![]() You could get some notion of how his mind worked from reading his books, but he gave no clues as to the personal life behind them. The foundation of his writing was in reportage, not introspection. On the page, he’s just as detached from the fads and crazes he chronicled-chronicled, but didn’t experience directly. There are no photographs of him in a paisley shirt or a Nehru collar. You’d never catch him subscribing to the fashions of his time. He was a white-suited dandy-or a parody of a dandy. By the 1960s, however, Wolfe’s spiffy image was firmly established. The author who would go on to write The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, The Right Stuff and The Bonfire of the Vanities is nowhere to be seen. His voluminous raincoat billows in the breeze. His tie is wafting its way independently toward a nearby revolving door. ![]() Wolfe, by contrast, seems to be slouching all over the place. Kennedy, of course, looks impeccable: cool, dapper, sexy. It can be a shock to see a photograph of Tom Wolfe before he was “Tom Wolfe.” There’s a shot from 1958 of Wolfe interviewing then-senatorial candidate John F. ![]()
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