This is a blog post that accompanies the most recent bonus pod! You can listen to the first 15 minutes of the bonus pod below, but you’ll have to subscribe on Patreon to get the RSS feed of the full episode (as well as access to our Discord). 

I vaguely remember the first time I watched The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. 

As you might have surmised, this was a very angsty period in my life, likely around the middle or end of 2014, which was right around when I learned I was finishing my undergrad earlier than expected (flex, I know) — and had only just realized that I wasn’t into my major (accounting). It was basically a quarter-life crisis, which, like my commencement, was just earlier than expected.

Spurred on by The Grand Budapest (my first WA, which I saw at the beginning of that year), I wanted a bit of Whimsy and perhaps a little cry. And so I embarked on a little out-of-order Wes Anderson marathon, finally watching The Royal Tenenbaums (my fav), Fantastic Mr. Fox (rewatched recently, it’s great), The Darjeeling Limited (eh), Moonrise Kingdom (cute!), Rushmore (which inspired my Halloween costume in 2017 and 2021), and The Life Aquatic.  I obviously enjoyed all of them (I’ll cover them in due time, trust) and quickly became a fan of Anderson’s quirks: stilted drama, vintage needle drops and plucky score, considered blocking, and creative styling. [If I were ever to make a “proper” flick myself (as I used to wish that I had pursued film in college), it would be in that vein, though it looks like Castleberry beat me to the punch already.] But there was something special about The Life Aquatic. And it wasn’t just about the clothes. 

Even though the character was a proper asshole, I found some kinship in Steve Zissou’s inherent grief, both from losing his pal Esteban to a mysterious “jaguar shark” and simply getting older, and not feeling the same excitement for life (which likely has been reflected in how his team hasn’t procured a hit in twenty years); and yet, he feels the need to soldier on. Of course, most of the story is really about the father-and-son “relationship” between him and the young Ned Plimpton, whom Steve promptly manipulates into following his every whim and even financing the latest Zissou venture, being a great deconstruction of both cultural and father figures and showcasing just how selfish and shallow they can be. 

To be clear, I don’t have any experience with offspring, be they biological or surrogate (and I only hope that I have a decent standing in the eyes of people who have met me), but it’s hard not to feel it when Zissou finally steps up…only for Ned to suddenly pass away. In the end, Zissou even meets the leviathan that took away his best friend, but instead of destroying it, he (and his compatriots) can only stare in awe at the beast’s magnificence. At least Steve can take solace in the fact that he was right; the damn thing did exist. Again, even though I’ve never had my own Moby Dick moment, I distinctly remember tearing up. In that way, I find that The Life Aquatic may very well be the most emotional Wes Anderson film—it’s just that cathartic!

Obviously, the film’s quirky style did stick with me, even if my style was never all that “hipster” or “indie” to begin with. Despite its rather minimal approach, at least compared to his other, more maximally styled entries, you could still feel the intentions of Wes Anderson and costume designer Milena Canonero (who would later work together on Darjeeling and The Grand Budapest). It was eccentric, but familiar, serving to link Zissou’s ridiculous antics and surrealist fauna to our own. In any case, It was just so funny to see each member of Team Zissou dress in such a unified and yet absurd way, doing a practical, militaristic look (as is the case for most sailors’ attire, unless you’re bundled up in cable knit sweaters) in the most whimsical shades of blue— while adding in a striking red beanie.  I definitely had one pal in college who had at least one red beanie and wore it as much as they could to affect a Team Zissou look for Halloween. 

It wasn’t until a few years later that I made the move to wear beanies myself, owning one in navy and one in red, the latter being a definite shoutout to this film (and not Marvin Gaye, as other menswear guys tend to do).  It definitely looked great whenever I wore a chore coat or other forms of casual wear. My decision to use it with tailoring was also inspired by this film, as Team Zissou can be seen donning their saturated headwear with a rather immaculate black tie, proving that such attire can still be fun. Of course, seeing it done across regular tie-wearing looks by Drake’s and Bryceland’s only solidified the beanie’s place in my wardrobe, but I always knew that it was The Life Aquatic that planted the seed. I didn’t wear my red one all the time (I obviously wore my navy one more), but it was nice to break it out on occasion, just to add that bit of fun. I even did the Zissou black-tie look for Halloween one year, pinning homemade, fake medals to my jacket pocket (which wasn’t a tux, as I didn’t own a full one yet) to further link myself to this film.

But despite all of that, I never really watched this movie that often. After all, The Life Aquatic isn’t as fun a movie as Anderson’s post-Darjeeling output.  This film is definitely a deep one that deserves your full attention, with a glass of wine and perhaps a melancholic mood to generate a good tear. Maybe it’s a good thing that I haven’t felt the need to watch this one; life is a bit too good lately. 

That being said, The Life Aquatic was chosen by Spencer for this month’s bonus pod, as he said it has a summer vibe. I can kinda see what he means, since Zissou’s private island and gratuitous use of Speedos feels appropriate for warmer months, but La Mer and the featured use of knit caps and sweaters feel more autumnal in my mind. I didn’t fight him on it, as I just wanted a good excuse to watch this one again, at least over the other WA flicks that at this point, I’ve definitely seen more than once. 

Plus there was that “Music from the Films of Wes Anderson” thing I went to, and out of all of Anderson’s output, there is indeed only one film that showcases evening wear:  The Life Aquatic. 

[My friend Nick over at BAMF Style has already written a great article on this film, so I apologize if any of this is a retread. In fact, you should just read his instead.]

It’s funny how taken I’ve been with the attire in The Life Aquatic. Unlike Wes Anderson’s other films, which are quite the sartorial menagerie, the outfits worn by the main cast in this film are quite singular and ultimately practical.  This all makes sense— Team Zissou has a uniform, providing a sense of solidarity  (they are not just “civilians”) in profession as well as allegiance to their selfish, grumpy, and aged leader, whose favorite color (blue) can be found on their outfits as well as the Belefonte (their equally aged vessel).  I typically find uniforms quite banal, especially militaristic ones, as the desire for cohesion trumps expression and variation.  But there’s something endearing about the look of Zissou and Co., something fun and charmingly pretentious, exemplified by their titular leader. 

Let’s take a look at what I think is the “platonic ideal” of the Team Zissou uniform, embodied by the man himself. The top is a short-sleeved military-style workshirt with epaulets and one breast pocket (not two, as is typical), featuring his “Z” flag as an embroidered patch. Zissou tends to wear his collar open, revealing a basic white crew-neck undershirt. The workshirt’s base is sky blue, which is contrasted by a darker blue (more cornflower than navy) on the placket and as vertical strips that go through the shoulder and down the sleeve; this base color and striping are also on the matching trousers, which, in true Y2K fashion, are mid-rise and slim-straight with a bit of a flare/bootcut.  And based on how the clothes look and lay, it’s likely these pieces are made of some form of poly-cotton, which is what most practical uniforms are made of.   To me, the whole thing feels more like something a gaggle of cruise ship staffers would wear, rather than the attire of adventurer-scientists, but that’s likely entirely the point. 

Steve Zissou, and by extension his Team, is absurd, quite laid-back and slapdash, yet takes himself quite seriously (give or take). A military-adjacent uniform, done up in a rather vibrant palette (which, honestly, would make visibility in the water difficult), makes sense for this group of misfits. This quirky absurdity is played up by their collab Adidas Roms, which have the same dark and light blue coloring (as well as nautical yellow laces) as the Team uniform. They also have a dedication to red knit caps, a reference to Jacques Cousteau, who, as a line from Zissou suggests, exists in the film’s universe. The saturated piece of headwear is certainly striking, adding a delightful pop of color against the soft blue palette found across Team Zissou’s attire and gear. It’s also practical as a form of warmth and high-vis (and a source of warmth when out at sea. But ultimately, it serves the audience as an intentional stylistic move, emphasizing the personality and quirks of this scientific ensemble while simultaneously reinforcing their unity.

Indeed, Steve has been referred to IRL by the actors as “Papa Smurf” due to his beard and the excess at the top of his beanie. He is the leader, and the rest of the team are his Smurfs. And despite being a bit callous when we see him in the film, it is made clear that Steve does, in fact, care for his Team.

[It should be noted that Cousteau seldom had a strict uniform and often wore his own red beanie with chambray (a proper seaman look), guayaberas, and short swim trunks. He makes it look so easy. Zissou’s pairing it with an actual uniform in nearly every on-screen appearance makes him come across as simultaneously serious and pompous by comparison.

But here’s the rub: Team Zissou look isn’t actually a strict uniform. While Steve is the only one who sticks to the platonic ideal, he seems to have let the rest of his compatriots customize their look, provided, of course, that they remain on theme with their color palette— and their Adidas shoes. And when you look closely, you’ll find that a handful of Team Zissou members have a unique (or at least personalized) look. 

Klaus, the first mate who thinks of Steve as a surrogate father (who, in turn, views Klaus like a younger brother), wears a thin roll-neck and short-inseam shorts, the latter serving as a nod to his German heritage (his nephew shows up twice in the film, wearing lederhosen). You can see that his red beanie has a little pom on the top, adding to his childish personality. A few other Team Zissou members also take care to customize their headwear. Vikram, the team cinematographer, has a red Turban; Ned (I mean Kingsley) adds an embroidered traffic light to the folded cuff; Steve’s beanie has a bit of slouchy excess at the top.

Wolodarsky, the substitute teacher turned team physicist and composer, adds a lab coat (with a breast pocket full of pens) over his uniform. Interestingly, he forgoes the knit cap and instead has a red docker cap, which is basically a brimless baseball cap.  Wolodarsky also forgoes pilot-style sunnies (worn by nearly everyone else) in favor of 30s-style, yellowish frames— a very retro-chic move. All of this, combined with a penchant for talking with a dangling cigarette, makes Wolodarsky quite an underrated style icon, evoking a subtly cool, hipster vibe even within this Wes Anderson world.

Of course, the real kudos go to Pelé, who is cool not simply because of his silky, Portuguese covers of Bowie Songs, but because of his choice of top. Instead of a professional, trussed-up military shirt, Pelé stands out with his gaucho-esque shirt, which looks a bit like a skipper polo, just with a fully closed-up neckline; it’s also like an integral collar sweater, if it were combined with a “V”-stitch sweatshirt with the body and sleeves of a regular pique polo. This unique design, which features soft collar points that lay flat and the subtle use of dark blue (the “V” neck area and sleeve hems), evokes a midcentury attitude, specifically the attire of 50s-60s jazz musicians. Again, Pelé is very cool.

These individual style cues are seen even during a glimpse of the team’s bedroom wear. While they all seem to own classic pajama sets (a button-up shirt and matching pants), their patterns differ. Most are versions of multistripes (awning and dobby), but Vikram gets a nice plaid. Obviously, the pajamas are unified in their color palette, incorporating shades of blue and yellow across their comfy garms. 

What makes Team Zissou’s attire even more interesting is the fact that there seem to be on-theme garments for almost any situation. 

For protection against the elements, the Team dons nylon parkas over thick knit, mockneck sweaters, the latter of which is probably their most nautical-themed garment (outside of their watch caps, of course). All of them have an embroidered white “Z” on the navy blue base— except for Pelé, who has a handsome red sweater.  There’s also the “Team Zissou tee shirts”, that pop up as casual wear in a few scenes, the bathrobes (complete with Zissou patch), the diving suits (of which there seems to be some mild variation in the colors, as well as a special shorts version for Klaus), and lastly, based on Ned’s one time use of it (RIP), a light blue flight suit (with yellow accenting the zippers).  

I find the sheer amount of branded or Zissou-colored attire quite hilarious and charming. It also allows the characters to mix and match, making each of their appearance interesting and dynamic while still displaying their solidarity.   In other words, the members of Team Zissou are dressed the “same” but also different. And when you look even closer, it’s actually Steve who leverages this move the most, giving his look some variety despite again being the “platonic ideal” of the Zissou uniform (as he doesn’t do much customization). 

Only the interns who lack variety and style. Each of them does indeed wear the exact same thing: a navy tee with “intern” emblazoned on the front, navy shorts, a plain hoodie, and rather boring grey sneakers. None of them are afforded the grace to customize their look, save for Niko, who often wears a yellow tee and ends up joining Team Zissou proper by the end. 

As The Life Aquatic focuses on oceanographers in the field, you would think there wouldn’t be much in the way of tailored clothing. You’d be wrong, of course, as this is a Wes Anderson film after all. 

There are indeed a few jacket-and-neckwear-adorned characters, like financier Oseary Drakoulias, who wears colorful bowties with his tuxedo and hexagonal tortoise-shell eyeglasses. Ned Plimpton had a jaunty blazer, hat, and western bowtie combo as part of his “Air Kentucky” uniform. There’s Bill Ubell, the Bond Company Stooge, who has a dull, vintage-corporate look that feels ripped right out of Office Space: a short-sleeved cream shirt, taupe slacks, a brown-and-yellow tie, and, at one point, a beige Harrington. And I can’t forget Alistair Hennessey, whose salmon scarf against a white belted coat and tan linen trousers makes Steve’s rival look more like a socialite than a competent (if not arrogant) scientist. 

Of course, Team Zissou also gets their hand at being sartorial. Steve himself wears a striped number when he appears in his in-universe films, pairing it with a simple white semi-spread shirt and narrow black tie (it might be a knit). The outfit looks vaguely mid-60s, an attitude echoed by the details of his evening suit, which has narrow peak lapels and a tightly tied horizontal bow tie. Steve, of course, accessorizes this black-tie rig with his trusty red beanie, a move the rest of his team follows; only Steve gets to wear a modest string of medals, pinned to his breast pocket in lieu of a pocket square. Team Zissou’s use of matching and striking practical headwear, even in black tie, simultaneously makes them look absurd yet totally serious, wholly committed to their Team and leader.

I find this slouchy, if not downright irreverent, take on evening wear that truly displays Wes Anderson’s costuming ethos in his films and why I love it so much. Some may find the attire in WA’s films ironic, but to my eyes, it feels earnest.  These are characters who understand the convention of dress codes and yet find ways to express their personality with nuances that still leverage the possibilities of classic and vintage menswear. It’s all about expressing some facet of personality and quirk while still feeling grounded and ultimately familiar to audiences. 

Seeing this done with aplomb in eveningwear is perhaps the epitome of that theme, where adhering to the most formal of attire (no one wears white tie anymore) can still be fun. It’s no wonder most menswear guys love this look, and why shots of Zissou and his crew in their tuxedos are turned into inspo fodder around NYE. I’ve never done it myself until attending the “Wes Anderson in Concert” at the Hollywood Bowl, complete with fake medals! It was a nice look, though, as you know by now, my use of creative evening wear has expanded beyond simply wearing a red beanie. 

In any case, it’s clear that Wes Anderson likes clothes and that he and his costume designers use his films as an excuse to get his characters dressed up.  And even when it comes to having an actual uniform, these quirky filmmakers can’t help but make each character’s look quite personal. 

What’s funny is that, with all the retro vibes in the clothes, tech, and overall attitude, it seems that The Life Aquatic actually takes place in the modern day; we see regular Y2K clothes among the paparazzi waiting outside of the film premiere. It’s a bit immersion-breaking to think that Wes Anderson’s characters, at least the ones in this particular flick, are indeed the only quirky ones in a normal world.  Though I guess it serves to add to his characters’ angst and shared  “no one understands me” attitude. 

Perhaps that’s why every WA film after The Darjeeling Limited (his follow-up to The Life Aquatic) has a firmly period setting, allowing him the freedom to dive into an offbeat (but still familiar) world where people were just inherently a bit more dressed up. 

I can’t blame him. I’d do the same thing if I made a movie. [Maybe I’m also just an angsty and pick-me Wes Anderson character.]

– end of blog post – 

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Always a pleasure,

Ethan