Illustration by Eric (Carl Erickson) / Condé Nast Archive
Digging through the archive for Dogue, I found not a bone but a treasure trove of dog drawings by the artist Carl Erickson, who signed his work Eric; the nickname given to him by his classmates at the Chicago Academy of Art. The use of a single name has come to denote a level of excellence, and this Swedish American had that in spades—style too.
In her memoir, former Vogue editor-in-chief Edna Woolman Chase described Erickson, circa 1930, as “a devotee of bowler hats, bow ties, and a large brown poodle.” That was likely Fez. By 1949, Fez had been succeeded by Dinah, Sandy, and Mousse, also poodles, when in a glowing Vogue profile, art critic Aline Saarinen painted a more nuanced picture of the artist as a dandy: “The black Homburg, the perfectly cut navy-blue jacket and trousers, the vest with cheeks which echo the smaller checks of the shirt and contrast with the scattered pattern of a black brocade tie, the immaculate gray suede gloves, the rusty-color suede shoes and, in hand, the ever present stick, plucked when he left his apartment from a Chinese blue-and-white vase which holds five umbrellas and three other canes.” Erickson’s friend, the photographer Norman Parkinson provides further details; the suits were British, the shoes handmade, the cravat from Sulka, and the Locks bowler hat “slanted over one ear.”