This website uses cookies to improve your experience navigating our site. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
OK, I understand
Shop
Stories
Postcards
About

Email Sign Up

Close x

Email Sign Up

Close x
/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|
/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|/\|

Send a Postcard

Show someone you care. All you have to do is type in your details below –and the details of the loved one – and hit send. We’ll do the rest.

To:

From:

Message:

140 left
Send my postcard

No Thanks

By submitting your email, you indicate your consent to receiving newsletters and information on our services from us. View our Privacy Policy.

Shopping Bag
0 items added to bag
Number of Items0
Sub Total Amount
0
Proceed To Checkout

Icons

Cary Grant

Words: Jack Moss

When it comes to Hollywood stars, a certain generation is often to be found lamenting that ‘they just don’t make them like that anymore’. And, while much of the time this can be dismissed as misty-eyed nostalgia, in some cases it might well ring true: after all, who quite encapsulates old Hollywood like Cary Grant? In over 50 movies, he was America’s perennial leading man – once told by an interviewer, “everybody would like to be Cary Grant”, he replied, “so would I”.

To Catch a Thief was Grant’s penultimate collaboration with Alfred Hitchcock, a tale of a retired jewel thief (Grant), who must clear his name after a series of crimes are committed in his style. Set amid the sun-drenched climbs of France’s Côte d’Azur, Grant is captivating as the charming ex-con, playing opposite the ultimate Hitchcock heroine Grace Kelly. And, though surprisingly lightweight fare from the lauded director, To Catch a Thief nonetheless runs off the two stars’ eternal charisma and style.

On the latter of those, To Catch a Thief offers plenty of sartorial panache – has there ever been a leading couple quite as well-dressed as these? Such a feat is made all the more impressive by the fact that, while Kelly worked with legendary Hollywood costumer Edith Head, Grant selected his own wardrobe. “Generally I wore simple, tasteful clothes, the same kind of clothes I wear off screen,” he said.

Which somehow feels like an understatement: in To Catch a Thief, Grant provides an exercise in grown-up Riviera style, whether striped nautical sweaters and polka-dot neckerchiefs, his succession of well-cut suits (including one particularly devastating tuxedo), cotton shirts (unbuttoned with a hint of chest), signature Henry Maxwell’s loafers (brown, worn without socks) or – in a sort of proto-Daniel Craig-as-Bond moment, rising forth from the Mediterranean Sea – the perfect pair of swimming shorts, belted, canary yellow, and just brief enough.

“I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be and I finally became that person. Or he became me. Or we met at some point”
– Cary Grant

Read Next