Low, Danish furniture on angled or straight legs and flat (not bunion) feet. Look for modular pieces and combo units, like the very long side/serving table thingy (there’s a proper term, but I can’t recall it) with built-in high-fidelity stereo system and/or TV console.
A shag rug for the conversation area – pit or no pit. You’re lucky on this one: shags are back in style and readily available (try IKEA).
A mosaic tile-top coffee or side table.
Tobacco accessories: humidor with Cuban cigars; unfiltered cigarettes; a long, ladies’ cigarette holder (think Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast At Tiffany’s); a man’s pipe; ceramic, abstract-modern-splatter-patterned, boomerang-, amoeba-, or paisley-shaped ashtrays, with unfiltered cigarette butts in them; and one or more vintage lighters (these are collectors’ items, and well categorized by year).
A vintage Pez. To be left, perhaps with the head poking out insouciantly, from a sport jacket pocket.
A small chrome-plated clock or two (often Sputnik-influenced) for your table or wall. Your lighting options really explode by the time of the Gemini and Apollo programs, but circa 1960 the real deal is generally a tad more restrained.
Optional: a bottle of wine turned into a candle holder, with lots of multicolored wax drips coating it, retained for sentimental reasons and relegated to a small, Formica-and-chrome-edged table in the kitchen. This is true Beatnik Hip ('50’s-'60’s) as opposed to late-'60’s hippy, if I’m not mistaken. Your c. 1960 mod ladykiller might well have dabbled in Beat Hipness as a preppy (post-?) college lad, after all!
Plaid wool-blend sport jacket with patches on the elbows. Very preppy.
A leather flight jacket. Very '50’s-'60’s test pilot chic, and a helluva lot more practical and attractive than a space suit. I don’t think that a pair of Ray-Bans would be wrong, either.
Brylcream, for your hair. (I think this is appropriate for 1960, but I’m not certain.)
Either Marimekko fabrics, or fabrics with boomerangs, Sputnik-like thingys, or a certain kind of abstract modern splotch pattern. Ikea always sells Marimekko-like fabrics of their own design: Swedish-for-Finnish.
At least one piece (or poster) of true mid-C. American Modern art; you get bonus points if it’s Abstract Expressionist. Try Hans Hofmann. Nice alternative: a Charles Sheeler(-like) B&W photo. Pop Art came a bit later.
A hat stand with a black bowler on it, and a long black umbrella with a cane handle (alternate: vintage plastic). Recall James Bond: he didn’t lose the bowler until 1965’s Thunderball, IIRC.
A mixology book (vintage Playboy or other more modern books). I have one devoted entirely to martinis. You need this. And remember, James Bond be damned, a true martini is mixed with gin, not vodka.
A vintage Playboy or two, left casually strewn on the coffee table. These can occasionally be found at garage sales, in addition to vintage shops, certain used book stores, etc. With luck, you find other mags from the era (esp. Popular Mechanics, Life, The New Yorker).
Cufflinks, and French-cuff shirts to wear them with. Also, an ascot (but be careful not to wear this outside said batchelor pad!). And pocket squares for your dinner jackets.
And, if you’re really intent on “drinking the Kool-Aid” with your Swinging 1960 Batchelor Pad project, a vintage phone – black, old-fashioned base (I think: when exactly did the “Princess” phone become available?), and pain-in-the-ass rotary dial. Readily available at garage sales and thrift shops everywhere.
A nasty Jell-0 gelatin salad or ham loaf (see James Lilleks’ Internet Gallery of Regrettable Food for recipies, yum!). Also, Kool-Aid to wash it down with. No, not really… just have some on hand in case you should ever have to host children. The only drinks at The Pad are martinis…
Whew! This was fun! 