Bolo Ties Join the World of Fashion : Enthusiasm for the versatile neckwear reflects the popularity of Southwest design in everything from fine art to bedsheets.
Ted Greve doesn’t like to admit it, but once only cowboys and nerds wore bolo ties.
“It wasn’t too many years ago that wearing bolos was like having tape on your glasses--a little bit nerdy,” says Greve, manager of T.B.’s Out of Santa Fe kiosk in Fashion Island, Newport Beach.
In the fickle world of fashion, that’s ancient history.
Bolo ties have become the neckwear of choice among the fashion-forward. Bruce Springsteen and Tom Cruise wear bolos, giving the leather laces an aura of celebrity chic they never enjoyed at home on the range.
“They put bolos out there and people started seeing they looked sharp,” Greve says.
The resurgence of bolos also reflects the popularity of Southwest design in everything from fine art to bedsheets, according to Greve, a former resident of New Mexico where the bolo is the state tie.
Yet in moving from the prairies to city streets, bolos have changed, becoming streamlined, modernized.
“Instead of a 40-pound nugget of turquoise and ornate silver work, you have clean, contemporary, simple designs,” Greve says.
At his kiosk, Greve sells a bolo tie with the fastener made of glazed banana chips. He also has rabbits, coyotes and cacti made of hand-painted wood, a pink quartz heart, a dog biscuit, psychedelic swirls made of fused glass and acrylic geometric shapes that form miniature collages.
“Originally, bolos were made exclusively of sterling silver. Now they’re made from everything,” he says.
His finer bolos feature fasteners of sterling silver eagles and steer skulls, and silver ovals or triangles inlaid with semiprecious stones such as turquoise, onyx, lapis, salmon coral and malachite. All of the bolos are made by 20 artists from Santa Fe, Albuquerque and Taos and range in price from $15 for the banana chips to $135 for the larger sterling steer skull.
“Bolos offer a great deal of variety,” Greve says. “It’s not just a western look. Bolos have been integrated into contemporary fashion. I know men who wear them with tuxedos.”
There’s no end to bolo designs.
At the Sawdust Festival, which takes place through Aug. 26 in Laguna Beach, several artists have turned the bolo tie into artwork on a string.
Catherine Reade, a mixed-media artist who designs a line of fashion accessories called Fat Kaktus, makes bolos from richly colored suede. She cuts the suede into mythical Southwest animal shapes, sets them against a geometric background and adorns them with sterling silver accents.
She borrows symbols of Indian culture and California heritage for her designs.
“It’s a mix of fashion and culture,” she says.
“Medicine Woman,” her interpretation of an Indian medicine bag, has a fold of blue suede adorned with fringe, feathers and a silver arrow.
“Star Bear,” a takeoff on the California flag, comes with a purple suede bear and a silver star, and “Magic Buffalo” has a white buffalo, an Indian symbol of wealth and good fortune, according to Reade.
“A kernel of mythology gets diluted into a 1990s piece of art,” Reade says. “I like taking something traditional and giving it a modern look. I love making these suede animals and giving them life.”
Reade never wants to see her bolos cranked out on an assembly line and hanging on the rack of a discount store.
“It’s art to wear. Each piece is unique. It’s made by hand, not made by a machine,” she says. “You’ll never see yourself coming and going.”
Her one-of-a-kind bolos can be ordered in different colors and cost from $55 to $75, depending on the amount of work and sterling that goes into each piece.
“A customer will ask me, ‘Well, can I have a pink coyote?’ So I’ll make them one.”
She treats her finished bolos not as neckties but as jewelry.
“I’ll put on a pair of pleated pants, a silk blouse, a soft jacket and then I’ll put on a bolo. It looks great.”
The bolos also go well with a cowl turtleneck sweater in a jewel tone that matches the suede design, T-shirts, or a tank top and a jacket.
“You don’t have to be restricted to wearing a (western-style) shirt,” Reade says.
Artist Laura Mercer makes bolos with iridescent orbs on metallic cords that can be worn to fancy parties.
“You can wear them real formally,” Mercer says. “I’ve worn them with a sequined blouse.”
Mercer makes her bolos by melting and layering polymer with metallic foil, then molding the warm goo with her fingers. It’s a little like making taffy.
“I stretch and wrap it with my hands. Some of the bolos even have my fingerprints,” she says.
The bolos measure about three inches in diameter and have swirling hues of green, purple, red, copper or other rich tones.
“It’s a take-off on the traditional bolo,” Mercer says. “There’s a playfulness to them.”
Her bolos sell for $35 at the Sawdust Festival, and they’re available year-round at her boutique, Laguna Village, and the Pacific Gallery, both in Laguna Beach.
Some bolos are so playful, even children can wear them.
Deborah Alessi makes bolos with colorful dinosaurs, each with names such as “Sharp Tooth,” “Little Foot,” “Petrie” and “Spike.”
Alessi makes the bolos as a child would--cutting and painting the dinosaurs out of paper. She then glazes the dinosaurs and hooks them on satin cords with painted wooden beads.
“Scott loves to wear his daddy’s real bolo tie,” says a woman standing before Alessi’s bolo display at the festival.
Alessi’s prehistoric bolos also appeal to adults, who look on them as alternatives to the dull corporate tie.
“One woman wanted to wear one with her business suit,” Alessi says.
