Look What's in Landry's Laundry
Edited by Alexander Wolff and Kostya Kennedy
September 04, 1995
Bob Hope once joked that seeing Tom Landry without headwear was "like seeing Tammy Faye Bakker without makeup." But no one who knows the third-winningest coach in NFL history and the league's most storied hat wearer could have expected him to don his latest one, that of fashion model. What fits least snugly of all is the clothier for whom he has posed: Abercrombie & Fitch, haberdasher to the Connecticut gentry.
Bob Hope once joked that seeing Tom Landry without headwear was "like seeing Tammy Faye Bakker without makeup." But no one who knows the third-winningest coach in NFL history and the league's most storied hat wearer could have expected him to don his latest one, that of fashion model. What fits least snugly of all is the clothier for whom he has posed: Abercrombie & Fitch, haberdasher to the Connecticut gentry.
Landry was many things during the 29 years he stalked the Dallas Cowboys' sidelines, but horsey New Englander wasn't one of them. "We wanted a great American icon, a hero," says Sam Shahid, president of Shahid & Co., the ad agency that created the campaign. "We didn't use his name because we want him to be seen as a real person, not a spokesperson." In act, Landry, 70, who's i fund-raiser for the fellowship of Christian Athletes, looks surprisingly at ease in the black-and-white portraits currently running in The New Yorker and Vanity Fair. The A&F connection isn't the most incongruous thing about the ads: Landry is posing at a Montauk, N.Y., home once owned by someone from an even more remote world, he late Andy Warhol.
