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»

Our favorite bowtie-glad pop artist is expanding into yet another field. Not satisfied with fantastic gallery work and the occasional high-fashion collab, Takashi Murakami is getting his Pixar on. Or should we say, his Miyazaki.

His latest project is an animation and film studio dedicated to the characters he’s produced. The trailer for the first major animated film kaikai & kiki debuted at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary art this year, and he’s already gone as far as setting up office space. Apparently he has a bit more faith in the economy than Mr. Hirst.

See the trailer and a few of Murakami’s economic musings»

One of the startling things about Old Hollywood photographs is how comfortable all the stars are with elegance. Gary Cooper made his living playing tough guys, but when he put on a suit, he didn’t forget details like the pocket square, and he didn’t fall into knee-jerk simplicity. He wasn’t afraid to dress up.

We’ve gushed about Cooper before, but this time we got a little better peek at his wardrobe. The pic comes from an exhibit at the International Center for Photography, spanning from 1923 to 1937. We aren’t surprised Cooper made the cut. During those years, he may have been the most glamorous man in Hollywood.

Any McQueen comparisons are purely coincidental…

It’s hardly news that fashion is cyclical, but frametop glasses were the last thing we expected to come back into style. Costume designers in Hollywood have been using them as shorthand for the creepy loner type for at least 15 years. We can’t help but suspect Thom Browne…

Angry outbursts never look good, but we’re going to have to call this one as fair play. Or at least not obviously foul.

A true gentleman would have exercised a little more politeness, but frustration is just a byproduct of passion, and passion is always a good thing. Hundreds of actors would have let a few slips from the crew slide, and in the process accepted less from the movie and less from themselves. Much as the gossip press wishes it were otherwise, there’s no shame in caring about what you do.

Even if it means getting a little unkempt.

Anyone who’s seen an action movie in the last ten years can probably recognize the work of Michael Bay—our particular favorite would be The Rock which, along with Armageddon, has the honor of being the unlikeliest Criterion edition we’ve come across—but now that he’s the recipient of everything from fake screenplays to a fake twitter persona, it might be time to dig a little deeper into the enigma that is Mr. Bay.

Luckily, some hapless assistant on the western coast has spent their morning uploading all of Mr. Bay’s commercial work onto Vimeo, with an almost unbelievably pretentious title card at the beginning of each spot. If you were looking for the core of the Bay aesthetic, this is pretty much it. Let the car commercials begin!

See our favorites after the jump, including the timeless “Aaron Burr”»

Time for another entry in our ongoing series on the taxonomy of beards.

Imagine you’re a creative type unbound by dress codes and only the thinnest pretense of nine-to-five regularity. You’ve met with some early success—people even started throwing the word “genius” around—but it scared the suits, and you’ve spent the rest of your career being suffocated by unimaginative businessmen, the stolid nature of the entertainment industry and the ultimate venality of the world.

Look on the bright side: While your existence may be plagued with self-doubt, your facial hair problems are pretty much solved.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we present the Stifled Genius Beard.

Perhaps further explanation is required»

We’re not sure how the Brits at Belstaff became Hollywood’s coat-makers of choice, but they’ve done a better job than anyone in California could have. This particular item was whipped up for Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds, and we’d say the combination of the oversized fur collar and the European slant of the pockets place it above anything you might have seen in Benjamin Button.

Cruz Control: Ladies and gentlemen, the best reason to see Nine. [Vanity Fair]

Let’s Go Make a Picture: When Hollywood starts being compared to Detroit, you know things are getting bad. The good news? At least Coraline was a hit… [Thompson on Hollywood]

Man Up: A discourse on masculinity, courtesy of the internet. [This Recording]

The Daily Nudes: There is no problem that cannot be solved by nude calendars. [NY Daily News]

By all accounts, Rip Torn has been having a pretty rough February, but we wanted to take a moment to appreciate why we care about him in the first place, and why we hope he’s doing all right.

It’s hard being a Hollywood lifer, but Mr. Torn pulls it off better than just about everyone, which is one reason he’s spent the last few years as a go-to curmudgeon for comedies. Don’t be fooled; he’s a whole lot cooler than that. For one: he’s friends with both Harry Nilsson and Miles Davis—which is quite a feat by any standards.

For firsthand proof, we’d suggest the Larry Sanders Show, where his producer Artie was both a career peak but quite possibly the perfect specimen of the showbiz fixer. One particular high note: He describes his beloved Glenlivet by saying, “When you die and go to heaven, you’ll say hello to God, and when God says hello, this is what you’ll smell on his breath.”

But only in moderation…