Leather Fetish: Half of Hollywood’s A-list (the good half) are in Belstaff. Good for them. [WWD]

Emerging Market: Watch out, the luxury industry is going to pin you down and sell you diamonds. [WSJ]

Big Daddy: Adam Sandler pairs a questionable mohawk with even more questionable Knicks game shorts. [She Knows Best]

Defender of the Universe: Rebok’s Voltron collection combines to form… a pile of shoes. [Uncrate]

Do Women Who Find Ferrari Drivers Sexy Contribute to Global Warming?: You know, we hadn’t really thought about this one. [Wired]

Photo courtesy of Steidl

A precious glimpse at one of the world’s most incredible photo collections from the golden age of Hollywood is to be found in Robert Dance’s opulent new book, Glamour of the Gods. The pix are all from the archives of John Kobal, who was one of the first to collect studio portraits of stars like Greta Garbo, Marlon Brando, Marlene Dietrich, Humphrey Bogart, Grace Kelly and Rita Hayworth, realizing they’d one day be equally important, if not more so, than the movies they made.

Above is Clarence Sinclair Bull’s incredibly elegant study of Gary Cooper, done for MGM in 1934, one of our favorite photos of all time. Further evidence, as if we required any, that they don’t make movie stars—or even photographs—like they used to.

Feast your eyes on this clownish couple, but be forewarned before clicking to enlarge the picture: they’re so plastered with logos we got acute conjunctivitis just looking at ‘em. Underneath all the claptrap you might recognize NASCAR nuggins Jeff Gordon (right), and a certain Mr. Pharrell Williams, who has won the adulation of the style set despite the fact that he dresses like an 11-year-old Japanese kid with ADD and way too much disposable income.

The painful-to-look-upon pair posed the other night at a Hollywood party for the Pepsi 500, the yearly race held at the end of the NASCAR season at the Auto Club Speedway in Fontana, California. Despite the similar getups they were not in fact there as a couple; Gordon was accompanied by his hot model/actress wife Ingrid Vandebosch. At least he has good taste in something.

Paul Newman has seen a lot of ink since passing away on Friday, but we can’t help but add a little more. It’s hard to think of a more endearing movie star, or a more stringently moral one.

He was also the last star of his kind, bridging the gap between Old Hollywood’s contract players and today’s twenty-million-dollar free agents. More than James Dean or even Marlon Brando, Newman shaped the movies he was in around his own persona, the loveable, beatific loser. He made Hollywood more concerned with the heels of the world and less comfortable with the folks who run things, whether that meant the prison guards of Cool Hand Luke or the corrupt judges of The Verdict. There have been other movie stars—even other outsiders—but one way or another, they’ve all been copies of the same genuine article.

A few more pictures of Mr. Newman»