Month: June 2009

The handkerchief is an anchor

Posted on by Simon Crompton

Bright colours often need reining in. Or perhaps anchoring is the right metaphor.

Left on its own, a bright jacket (for example) can dominate an outfit and seem to float above it, rather than harmonising. It strikes the viewer as an individual item rather than part of an intelligently worked ensemble. Equally, if the jacket is dark and the rest of the outfit bright, something needs to link that jacket to the brightness elsewhere.

The most effective tool for this is the pocket handkerchief.

Pick out a colour from the shirt or tie and echo it in the handkerchief – suddenly there is a connection across the lapel and everything hangs together. In the top image, for example, this navy jacket could look a little out of place with the yellow, green and pink, not to mention the shorts. It could look like he’d put on his suit jacket on by mistake. But by echoing the pink panel of the shirt in the pink handkerchief, the jacket is anchored.

The second image demonstrates this the other way around. Here a bright yellow jacket threatens to lift right off the model and float unaided. The contrast would be particularly stark were I (or someone equally undaring) to wear this jacket – as I would certainly not pair it with such bright socks, shirt or tie. I would have plainer accompaniments and need something to anchor that jacket to them. The white of the collar would do, or a blue pattern if that were in the tie or trousers.

In this image, the handkerchief is linked to the tie by its similar tone – though to be fair that job is also performed by the horse emblazoned on the breast pocket.

Lastly, the white suit is given some kind of foundation by linking a blue handkerchief to the blues in the shirt and tie. Note, though, that the blues are slightly different in each of these items – it is harmonising, not matching.

handk-3

Anchoring a bright item, like a jacket, is particularly important as the warm weather strikes (particularly in recent weeks in the UK). Suddenly you’re considering linen jackets, tan jackets, white trousers or even trousers in other brights. Go with it, but every time consider how to link that summery item back to everything else.

At a simple level, when I wear my bright green jacket I always add either a blue or white handkerchief, whichever best fits the rest of the outfit. Try it.

New personal website

Posted on by Simon Crompton
“Does anyone take pleasure in getting dressed anymore?”

For all those that are interested, my personal website has just relaunched at www.simoncrompton.co.uk. It contains details of my freelance work as well as the blogging done here and on other sites. There are also examples of previous work for those that have missed feature-length posts here.

Have a look and pass it along to anyone that might be interested.

All the best,
Simon

British bespoke – Part 2

Posted on by Simon Crompton

I saw my first British bespoke suit being drawn and cut recently at Graham Browne, in advance of the first fitting.

First I saw the patterns being drawn. Picture 1 shows the pattern for the front part of the trousers, which has just been drawn out. The three length points are marked first – the bottom of the trouser, the knee, and the top of the inside leg. The width of each point is then marked off and joined together by ruler.

bbp1

The three lines you can see in this photo are the inside leg, the hip and the waist, the lines between which are curved. The triangle in the centre of the picture is a front dart. Given my waist, two darts were needed (more or less can be used depending on one’s measurements) and the house style at Graham Browne is to have one in the front, here, and another in the back. Some tailors put two in the back but the guys here feel one dart in the front of the trouser adds a little needed room across the pocket – especially if it is a slant pocket. If there was no dart in the front, the curve to the waist (top right) would have to be more acute.

The back of the trousers is also 1¾ inches higher than the front. This varies quite a bit from tailor to tailor. The guys at Graham Browne say they have worked a lot on their trouser system in recent years, but wouldn’t give away any more than this.

The second picture shows the patterns being cut out – that’s the front and back of the jacket, right and left. The greatest skill is in drawing up and cutting these patterns correctly, rather than tracing them onto the cloth with chalk – even though this often gets greater attention.

In the next picture Russell is tracing the pattern of the sleeve onto the paper below, using a spiked wheel. Russell is fastidious about his sleeves – indeed just one mention of them launches an explanation of how rounded the shoulder must work here, and the fact that some other tailors fall down by leaving the sleeves up to the tailor, rather than the cutter.

And picture four, below, shows how that rounded shape is taken on – the larger piece is the outside of the sleeve and the front piece is the inside. The two shapes need to flow smoothly together, rather than chop squarishly from one shape to another.

Next the patterns are traced with chalk onto the cloth. I love the fact that the best way to rub out a mistake is just to hit the cloth with an open hand – the chalk dust flies off. If it were rubbed it would just work further into the material.

The penultimate photo shows the full suit chalked up on the cloth. Notice that there is only one half of each section here – one side of the front of the jacket, one side of the back and one sleeve. The cloth is doubled up and both parts cut together.
bbp6

Finally, the two halves of the cloth are sewn together with a mark stitch to indicate where the outside edge of the jacket will be – the remainder of the cloth being the inlay inside the chest or sleeve. This is a loose stitch that is immediately ripped apart, but leaves knots of thread to indicate that outside edge. It seems like a tiresome process just to mark an edge, but such is the tradition of bespoke.
bbp7

First fitting later in the week.

Why men are scared of real trousers

Posted on by Simon Crompton

how to wear chinos


It often seems odd quite how many men wear jeans outside the office, and no other trousers. I was sitting in a taxi with three friends a while ago, all facing each other as you are in a black cab, and it struck me that we were all wearing mid-blue jeans, in a vaguely straight cut, without any distressing or rips. They were pretty much interchangeable.

And then you go into the pub, and look around, and realise that all the other men are wearing the same thing as well. It’s a little spooky when you start noticing it.

Everyone knows why jeans are popular. They’re comfortable, hard-wearing and universally accepted. But as important, I think, is that they are a great backdrop to other colours, clothes and textures. The material and colour of blue jeans means they go with black and white, bright colours and muted colours, shirt and t-shirt.

They go with everything. And they effectively separate socks/shoes from shirt/jacket as well, so you don’t have to worry about harmonising these other items.

I find this with the unusual items I buy – the bright green jacket or spectator shoes, for example, that have featured in previous posts. When I’m considering buying an unusual item, my first thought is “it’s alright, I’ll wear it with jeans.” And they do both look great with jeans; it is that bit harder to combine them well with suits or flannels. My problem is I end up with too many unusual items and wearing nothing but jeans!

Those in the US have it slightly easier. For them chinos are almost as ubiquitous as jeans, and while the former is not quite as adaptable, it does mean the Americans are trained to matching a different material with the other items in their wardrobe. Not just jeans.

This also leads me onto my suggested solution for British men. Stay with your favoured material, cotton, but experiment with different permutations. Try cords, chinos, gabardine. Try different weights and weaves in each of those – within what you might think of as chinos, for example, is a world of materials from the very rough to the very smart, the heavy to the lightweight.

Don’t wear suit trousers, please. In London you often see men wearing worsted wool (suit) trousers with trainers and t-shirts and, while it can occasionally look funky, you never think to yourself – ‘oh yeah, that really works.’ It is unusual and that’s all.

Finally, experimenting with different cottons will help men survive the summer. As the temperature increases, you see men gradually shedding layers and shoes, until they are in thin t-shirts, flip-flops and jeans. They never lose the jeans. No matter how heavy they are, they never lose them until (deep breath) it just gets too sweaty and they plunge into shorts.

There are other options. Don’t be scared of real trousers.

Pictured: Mats Klingberg of Trunk, in Incotex chinos

Permanent Style in French and Russian

Posted on by Simon Crompton

Permanent Style has expanded its reach to other languages, with articles on the site translated into both French and Russian for a foreign audience.

This week Hugo, who blogs at Parisian Gentleman, translated my interview with Patrick Grant of Norton & Sons for his readers in Paris. Read it and Hugo’s other fine work here.

And recently Igor Stukalov, blogging at Bespoke etc, asked to translate some of my articles into the Russian language for those following his blog in Moscow. If you are lucky enough to be able to read Russian, take a look at this great piece on shirt construction.

The picture is of a lovely pair of Corthay boots. Because we are talking about France and I wanted an excuse.

Ha! You think these are golf shoes?

Posted on by Simon Crompton

Golf shoes are the living memory of classic footwear. Within them the traditions of the past live on in a way not possible in any other walk of life (apologies for the pun).

This is because golf retains the twin features of social propriety and gentlemanly sport.

It used to be the case that one’s dress was driven by strict social mores. The proper attire for work, play and formal events was minutely prescribed, the punishment social ostracism.

(To an extent, this is one reason that royalty or celebrities often drove new fashions: they had the prominence to make something popular, but also the position to get away with it. Beau Brummell learned this social power of royalty to his cost when he famously snubbed his erstwhile compatriot, Prince George.)

Golf clubs are one of the few places in today’s society where similar rules and a sense of propriety can still be found. Formal day events such as weddings and Easter Sunday lost that a long time ago. Equally many aspects of conducting business.

This is one reason that golf shoes still retain such similarity to the ‘sporting’ shoes that were worn when the activity first became popular. Brogues were initially worn, because they were more casual than the undecorated shoes worn for business. Over time, other more casual shoes – spectators, saddle shoes, shoes with tassels – became part of golf clothing.

But while the rest of society’s dress went hurtling towards informality, golf moved very slowly. Other shoes, those more resembling trainers, were gradually allowed as the club rules softened. But society had sped past – pursuing jeans, t-shirts and flip-flops. So the shoes that, ironically, were originally worn for golf because they were casual, became some of the most formal worn outside the office. The became a residue of past convention.

The other reason that golf has retained traditional footwear is that, let’s face it, it is not a very active sport. In the twenties tennis shoes were leather-soled and made of nubuck. But then tennis was a social diversion where the objective was to hit the ball to the other player, not away from him – like playing bat-and-ball on the beach. As the sport became more competitive, its clothing became more flexible and athletic.

Golfers are sportsmen and they get injuries. But they don’t run around a lot. So the tasselled spectator has survived – it provides support and can have spikes screwed into the sole; what more do you need?

That’s why I find it funny when people see my spectators (pictured top) and ask how the greens were that morning.

Cheap bespoke part 2

Posted on by Simon Crompton

My post just over a week ago on the possibilities of finding cheap bespoke shoes by separately arranging for a personal last and a maker has drawn a lot of comment, both on the sites and privately through email or meetings.

To respond to one point quickly – I do not mind commissioning an independent worker rather than a bespoke company in London (that has invested “in bricks and mortar”) as small artisans need as much support as any manufacturer, no matter how small. I have also invested enough (indeed, many would say, too much) in the English shoe industry over the years.

Now to the main point: commissioning your own shoes. Those that responded to me agreed with my conclusion that simply sending a scan of your foot to Springline and then sending that to an independent shoemaker would not produce a well-fitting shoe. Bespoke is about process and about trial-and-error.
cb-lastmakers-tool
However, many people do go to the effort of producing their own lasts and then commissioning shoes. This takes more time and effort. You have to talk to the lastmaker, have him examine your feet and, if possible, see the imprint of your foot on the insole of shoes you have worn for a while.

Then you need to have a trial shoe made. This is best if it is at the stage where the shoe is ‘braced’ – an earlier stage than that at which the London firms tend to do the fitting, which is usually when the shoe is ‘in welt’.

And then return to the lastmaker for adjustments, which is easier if you have a personal relationship rather than just giving him a sheet of measurements. There will always be little things to discuss as well, like the allowance made for space at the end of your toes. This plus the length of your foot is the total length of your last – the ‘stick length’. (A hundred years ago the rule was ‘three sizes’ (one inch in total). Today most firms go shorter: two or two-and-a-half sizes.)

As with the process of having a bespoke suit made, it is as much about personal preference as about the measurements of the tailor.

Once the fit is good, the last can be altered for every subsequent order of shoes, as long as the heel pitch (height of the heel) and the toe spring (distance of the tip of the sole to the ground) remain constant.

As I said, many go to this effort and made. Some have a last made and then even buy their own leather and commission separate closers and makers. But that is the proper way to get the best-value bespoke shoes.

A couple of more points to clear up. Cliff Roberts uses lasts that are similar to those of Edward Green 888 and 202 – not the same, as this would be illegal. The guidance is largely for American customers that are ordering from further away but need a point of reference – and many have Edward Greens.

Cliff’s soles are attached by machine, but many do this (old firm Peal & Co is said to have attached all its soles by hand-cranked machine, even bespoke). The welt, however, is hand-sewn and the threads for that sewing and all handmade and hand-waxed. The heels are also built by hand.

My first English bespoke suit

Posted on by Simon Crompton


My tailoring is taking a step up in the world. I’m having my first English bespoke suit made.

The tailor is Graham Browne, whom I have written about on this blog previously. They are located on Well Court, just off Bow Lane in the City. I had originally gone in there for alterations but decided to take the plunge with bespoke as well.

All my previous bespoke suits had been made by Edward Tam in Hong Kong but, while entirely satisfied with Edward’s work, I liked the fact that I would be able to get more of an insight into the bespoke process at Graham Browne.

Edward’s English is very good, but it is not always easy to have conversations about the finer points of jacket construction – the communication level is just not high enough. And, more importantly, I have never seen Edward’s suits being made. At Browne, the cutting is done on the premises, so I can witness that, and the sewing is done by a group based in north London, which again I will be able to visit. This will both enlighten me and, hopefully, provide some interesting reading.
gb-wools1
I wanted an investment suit, one that is conservative enough to last me a long time and get value out of the extra money spent on bespoke. But I was also keen to have a double-breasted suit – because it is so much harder to get a good fit off the peg.

So I went for mid-blue cloth, to be made into a 6×4 double-breasted suit. I always like to have some surface interest to the material – some texture, essentially – so I looked for herringbones with some variation in the blue. Pictured are two I decided between, eventually going for the Botany merino.

I do like buttons. Probably for similar reasons to the surface texture in the wool: I like little, subtle points of individuality. Not wearing my watch over my cuff, but having brown horn buttons on a blue suit, with a nice pattern to them. Again, pictured a few I picked between, with the final decision being number 4 on this picture.
gb-shoulders
Other style points: I like a relatively built-up shoulder on a jacket, as I have sloping shoulders myself; I like a slight rope to the sleevehead; and I like the gorge (where lapels and collar meet) set a little bit higher to give a longer, fuller sweep to the lapel – in this case 2.5 inches from the shoulder rather than Browne’s standard 3.5.

One last point to consider is that I will, obviously, never undo my jacket, even when sitting down. So any ways to make this more comfortable (possibly for hours on end) are a boon. Therefore the armholes will be cut rather small and high, to give maximum reach without pulling at the back of the jacket, and the sleevehead will be fuller for similar reasons – though with a roped shoulder there is already a little bit more material in the sleevehead anyway.

Next post at the first fitting, in two weeks.
gb-tweed

Keep your jacket on

Posted on by Simon Crompton

Takizawa Shigeru makes beautiful suits and jackets. But while the style details of his tailoring stood out to me in a recent communication (particularly his emphasis on a very slim edge to the top of a jacket’s waist pocket), it was the philosophy that was unique.

Says Shigeru: “A gentleman must not take off his jacket too easily.”

“Even if you sweat, working at your desk, sitting at a bar or having a dinner with your sweet heart.

“Not even while you are driving.

“When men wear a suit or a jacket, he must not take off his jacket too easily.

“That I think is the man’s dignity.

Though at the same time we must not forget that this theory becomes true only if the clothing is graceful and comfortable enough for his movement.”

Allowing for Mr Shigeru’s English, it is a beautifully made point. And I don’t know whether the positioning of the text (reproduced here) was deliberate, but does add some poetry to the sentiment.

It is not easy wearing a jacket all day while sitting at your desk. It is particularly difficult if your arms are constantly stretched forwards at the keyboard. Perhaps most of all, there is little incentive to wear your jacket when air conditioning makes it unnecessary for warmth.

There are several things that a man can do to make his bespoke jackets easier to sit in – without, of course, just making them bigger. A smaller, higher armhole adds flexibility, as does a relatively large sleevehead that has been edged into that armhole. (Also, if you have slightly roped shoulder, as I prefer, the sleevehead is that little bit bigger anyway.)

You can also have pleats put into the back – either one in the middle or two at the sides (an ‘action back’). These were originally designed to make it easier for a man to point a gun for long periods of time. The same function almost applies to typing. Lastly, you can have the jacket half-lined only, which makes the back more breathable for those long hours sitting against a chair. The only disadvantage to this is that the back will lose its shape more easily.

For those without access to bespoke, these things may not be available. One solution is The Logical Waistcoat Theory, which I have written about enough to bore anyone, including me. But even if you don’t have any of these solutions to hand, you know you could wear your jacket a little bit more during the day. And if you do it will flatter your figure, add purpose to your shirt and tie, and most of all give a point to buying suits in the first place.

Interview: Patrick Grant, Norton & Sons

Posted on by Simon Crompton

A perennial topic on this site, and indeed other style fora, is how customers interact with their tailors when they have their first suit made.

The customer thinks he knows what he wants but he can’t quite express it – at least not in the terminology the tailor would use. And the tailor tries to divine the customer’s wishes from every source he has available: what he is already wearing, his facial expressions, his reactions to suggestions and things he tries on.

It’s a difficult process and one that takes time, hence the need for several fittings. Permanent Style spoke to Patrick Grant, owner of Norton & Sons on Savile Row, about this quandary as part of a series of pieces in a new project called Gentleman’s Corner (details to be divulged next week).

Among other things, Patrick agreed that tailors often resort to using house styles or fit generalisations (classic, slim, skinny) because of this very inability to communicate.

norton-sons

Permanent Style: What proportion of customers know enough about what they want when they walk in and answer all your questions?

Patrick Grant: Not many, is the honest answer. A lot of people have a good idea of how they would like to look. And a lot of them know that they like what they end up wearing, but that’s about it.

They know when the results are good. They can feel the difference from what they had before – but they won’t be able to say that the difference is because there is an inch more suppression in the waist, or the jacket is a touch longer. They know where they want to get to, but they can’t necessarily articulate how to get there.

PS: Is that first conversation difficult then?

PG: When you go into the fitting room, David [Ward, head cutter] will measure you up and have this conversation with you. It starts off a little bit broadly: ‘How would you liked this coat to be cut? Shaped, in a classic English style?’ And the customer will reply: ‘Well yes, quite shaped. But not too shaped.’

PS: So no answer at all then.

PG: Sure, but then it gets more focused, and the customer will say he doesn’t want it very fitted, really skinny. He’ll express one preference and then another, and we ease towards a vision.

Some people are also very happy to say ‘you’re the experts, you cut me a suit that is going to make me look as good as I can’. But it’s a process that takes a lot of time. On the first suit this conversation is repeated in three, sometimes four fittings. And the conversation becomes a little easier when there’s a coat to talk about and point to.

The first meeting is a little vague, but actually nine times out of ten we get it pretty right.

PS: Is it fair to say that one reason some tailors have a house style is that the customer knows what he is getting and has probably come there for that reason – saving everyone the first, vague conversation?

PG: Yes, I think that’s quite right. If you left the shape entirely up to us, you would get a suit that looks like the one on the mannequin in the shop window. That’s why the models are there, so the customer can say ‘that’s what Norton & Sons looks like, that’s what Henry Poole looks like, that’s what Huntsman looks like and this is the one I want to look like.’

PS: Do people come in and just browse sometimes? On this site we have discussed how much men would like to do that more at tailors.

PG: Absolutely, we have people come in and try suits on and have a conversation about the style, just to get an idea. It’s quite normal for people to try three or four tailors before they order.

In fact, we picked up a new customer a few weeks ago that had a suit made at ourselves and two other tailors on the Row, to see which he liked best. I won’t say who the other two were, but he had exactly the same suit, same colour same cloth, just so he could decide which he liked best.

PS: That sounds pretty meticulous. He sounds like he’s going to be a serious customer.

PG: He said he just wanted to find the best tailor for him and be able to make a real comparison.

PS: That’s what makes it hard for many newcomers to this area to get an idea of what they want – not many people, no journalist and no one on the various style sites has tried all the tailors.

PG: That’s fair. And the main reason people switch between tailors, as we’ve seen since I took over, is not an objective comparison like this customer made but just a simple feeling. They’ve been with someone for years and have a good relationship with them, but suddenly something’s just a little wrong. It’s changed and it’s not like it used to be.

Get ready. The sales are starting early

Posted on by Simon Crompton
The worse the economy, the earlier the sales start. Everyone is that bit more desperate to get their hands on your cash. Before anyone else does. It was the same before Christmas and, despite some positive news on the economic front in the UK, it is the same this summer.

Ralph Lauren has started its ‘private sale’ – meaning a sale for anyone that has ever bought anything there ever and not refused to be on the mailing list. And any other name they have got hold of. The sale starts on Saturday, until Tuesday. The official sale starts on the 18th, so expect the second wave of reductions two weeks later. And the desperate, 70% sale another fortnight after that. This is the greatest stage, but it only lasts a few days!

Other brands started even earlier – Etro’s private sale was in the middle of this week.

(Oh, and is it just me or is there a typo in this advert? 50% of? Surely 50% off.)

Cheap bespoke – too good to be true?

Posted on by Simon Crompton

Entirely handmade shoes are not cheap. The high-end benchmade shoes are hand-clicked and hand-lasted, but not hand-welted. In this country, most of the entirely handmade ones are made bespoke. And that makes them even more expensive, as the shoe is being made unique to your foot, as well as being constructed by hand.

Most entirely handmade shoes are pushing £1000 or more. Laszlo Vass of shoemakers Vass in Hungary is one exception, but then unless you want a pair of shoes you haven’t tried on, you have to go to Budapest.
hm-vass-h
One exception has recently popped out of the brickwork. His name is Clifford Roberts and he worked for one of Northampton’s biggest shoemakers for 30 years (though he won’t say which for the sake of discretion). Having left that firm, he now makes handmade shoes from his house, just outside the town. And they start at £290. Less than £300 for entirely handmade shoes.

Since he was first discovered, on eBay and by the members of a discussion here, the timeline for the work has extended for six weeks to twelve. But that is still a lot quicker than the five months it takes, for example, for a pair of made-to-order Gaziano & Girling shoes.

Several members of the forum have made their own orders and reported their results. The quality of the leather seems to be good, the fit equally good and all the work (noticeably, the welting) all done by hand. There have been one or two criticisms that the lasts Cliff works on are ‘blobby’, but this is only one of the three or four shapes he works with – and besides, it is a question of taste.

Now, the dream of any shoe geek is to be able to get bespoke handmade shoes at an affordable price. If Cliff can make handmade shoes, is there any way he can do bespoke? Well, in theory yes.

Pretty much all the lasts in this country are made by Spring Line in Northampton. The only remaining last-maker in Britain, the company makes wood and plastic lasts for everyone from Nike to Edward Green. They will make you a bespoke last for around £190 – just send them a 2D foot draft or a 3D foot scan.

The first of these methods of measurement should be done after requesting specific instructions from Spring Line. Or, ideally, by getting an experienced shoemaker to make a draft of your feet. The second method, though, is pretty easy to accomplish. Just go along to Lodger, the new shoe company on Clifford Street that has been mentioned on this site before. They use an electronic scanning and imaging machine to build up a 3D picture of your foot. It’s for their shoes, but they won’t mind doing it for your own use as well.

So measurements from Lodger, a bespoke last from Spring Line and then handmade shoes on that last from Cliff Roberts. Bespoke shoes for less than £500?

Well, not quite. You see, bespoke shoemaking is not that straightforward. No one gets your last and shoe right the first time. If you have a bespoke pair of shoes made at, say, Foster & Son, the process will involve several fittings. First you will get a trial shoe, only half made or constructed in a cheap leather than can be thrown away afterwards. You try that, you make a few comments and the last is adjusted accordingly. Even when the final shoe is constructed it can be altered, and often the last will be tweaked slightly for the next order.
hm-foster-son
So to recreate this experience at Spring Line would take more than one visit to Northampton. For someone in the UK, this makes it a little tiresome. For someone in the US, it makes it impossible or very expensive – particularly given the extra steps and communication between the two craftsmen, of lasts and of shoes, that wouldn’t be needed at a bespoke shoemaker.

The other catch, of course, is that your last could only be in one toe shape. If you are at all interested in design, this could be a constriction. You could have another last made, but it would cost another £190.

Now if you already have a bespoke last you are happy with, you’re sorted. Just send it to Cliff with some instructions. Very few shoemakers will do made-to-order shoes on a bespoke last – they would rather you went through their bespoke service. But Cliff will do it for the same price.

Also, if you have very unusual feet (and live in the UK) it is still probably worth the effort to work with Spring Line and Cliff to get a last you are happy with. If you don’t, then (blasphemous as it is to say) ready-to-wear shoes are a good bet. The advantages of bespoke are not the same for everyone.

Reader question: Fake welts and lacing

Posted on by Simon Crompton
Patrick: I recently had a pair of black cap-toe boots repaired and afterwards the cobbler explained to me that my Banana Republic boots had fake welts. I realized that I hadn’t really paid enough attention to a lot of shoe details. Among the questions I had were:

Is there a preferred way to lace dress shoes? I searched online and came up with this site http://www.fieggen.com/
shoelace/lacingmethods.htm which lists 33 different methods for lacing shoes. Most seem inappropriate for dress shoes, but it also didn’t address the issue of stitching the bottom set of holes with laces over or under the holes. Also, have you ever gotten taps installed on your leather bottom shoes to extend their durability?

Thanks for all the all the great information. I have yet to find another blog that offers such keen and timeless insight into men’s style.

Thank you for the questions, Patrick, and your kind words. I’m afraid you have fallen into a design trap of some of the bigger US brands that sell their own shoes. As brands like Banana Republic are design-driven rather than craft-driven, they don’t worry much about the construction details that are the focus of much of classic men’s style sites like this one and the various fora.

I believe all shoes sold by Banana Republic are glued rather than stitched, and certainly not Goodyear welted, like classic British shoes. Someone in the design team may have decided, however, that they want to produce a British-looking shoe (driven, perhaps, by the return of the brogue into fashion through Thom Browne, Grenson collaborations etc.). So they have produced a glued shoe that looks like it is welted. The only advice I can give is to shop at a more traditional English store next time – for the same price (around $140 I think) you could get a pair of Barker or Loake shoes that will last you far longer.

(A little aside on Loake, make sure you look at the product details on their site as to where the shoes are made. Despite the song-and-dance about British workmanship on the homepage, some of the Design range is made in India.)

On lacing for dress shoes, most people use the straight (European) lacing from that site and I would recommend it. It looks neater to have straight bars across the eyelets, and having a criss-cross underneath makes them much easier to tighten. Start with the laces going over the bottom two eyelets. On more casual shoes a criss-cross lacing on top can look good, but that’s more a question of taste.

Lastly, I tend to avoid metal taps on shoes but it is largely because I can’t stand the sound they make. Sounds like I’m on the parade ground on in a tap-dancing troupe. They can also be a little slippery. But some people do like them and they are certainly effective. And having plastic ones can avoid the two problems I bring up. I would recommend you try them and see.

A flamboyant wedding

Posted on by Simon Crompton

beach-wedding-ceremony

A colleague of mine is going to a wedding this summer, on the beach, with the proscribed dress code of “flamboyant”.

Now, a dress code like that has the potential to condone all manner of horrors. From black tie with flip flops to Hawaiian shirts and grass skirts, linen suits with t-shirts to board shorts and knobbly knees. Doubtless the bride and groom realised this and were brave enough to give their friends and family free rein.

Also, the wedding is likely to be fairly formal so it needs to be flamboyant in a smart way. So my colleague wanted suggestions on ways to make a suit, or odd jacket and trousers, flamboyant enough to fit in and retain personality.

To kick-off, here’s what I would wear if I were also invited (sniff sniff). A two-buttoned Etro suit I own in pale-grey Glenurquart check with green overcheck. A white French-cuffed shirt with colourful glass cufflinks; paisley silk handkerchief; and a tropical but not overstated boutonniere. On the feet, tan loafers without socks (easy to kick off for those dances in the sand, but equally appropriate to retiring to the veranda later for cigars and coffee).

I would instinctively go without a tie, but knowledge of the family itself would give more guidance here. If a tie was more appropriate, I would pick an unlined gold silk, probably pinned.

As with any invitation, the interpretation of the dress code does depend on some knowledge of the hosts. Given that, my colleague’s initial thoughts were: seersucker suit, white shirt, large boutonniere and plimsolls. Not far off my suggestion.

But he has since had a change of heart on the seersucker suit and decided to go with just trousers in that all-American material, with an odd jacket. So what odd jacket to wear? Well, given that the seersucker is in traditional blue and white, either blue or white would be fine. Perhaps in a heavy-weight linen, to look suitably crisp on top of the trousers. And probably blue, given that my colleague would like to get some use out of these items after the wedding (they are being made bespoke at the moment) and navy will have more lasting use that white.

I would also lean towards slip-ons or formal shoes with this outfit, rather than the plimsolls suggested earlier. Plimsolls or other slim-line trainers in a smart, clean colour can look great with a casual suit. But an odd jacket/trouser combination could use something to root it to the ground. Plus, it means my colleague can find a pair of very bright socks that match his flower. What fun.

Reader question: Reiss and made to measure

Posted on by Simon Crompton

Thientai: I live in London and never have a chance to get a proper suit. With a tight budget, I can’t afford bespoke, but am quite interested in made-to-measure etc.

The other choice is of course, off the peg. So I browse high street stores a lot, and carefully observe their cutting and materials. One brand strikes my interest, which is Reiss of London. Their suit style seems sleek and contemporary. However they don’t come cheap. I wonder what do you think about their fabric materials and overall quality of the suits. With my lack of expertise, I want to make sure that my hard-earned £400 is worth it. I probably need to do quite a lot of alteration afterwards.

If you suggest their quality doesn’t match the asking price then would it be better to go for, say, A Suit That Fits?

Thientai, a few words first on my experience of Reiss and then some general advice on made-to-measure.

Reiss suits are great, but they are overpriced. I have a two-button suit in brown flannel that I bought a few years ago and it has lasted very well. The material is of good quality and the handiwork has stood up well to a fair amount of abuse and dry cleaning.

I think the biggest advantage of Reiss suits, however, is the individuality of their materials and attention to detail. The brown flannel of my suit is so dark it looks like charcoal to some eyes – definitely dark rather than milk chocolate. I have never seen another wool like it. Equally, friends have Reiss suits in some fantastic checks (large-scale but faint red and green, for example) and there were a few in subtle proportions of mohair recently that caught my eye.

reis-mtm

On the detailing, my suit has some very fine pick stitching around the lapels and beautifully rich mid-brown buttons. Others I’ve seen have experimented with mother of pearl. And I notice that this season the brand has brought out lines with my favourite double-breasted design, with just the two buttons across the waist.

The suit pictured is made with 27% mohair, jetted pockets, side adjustors on the waist and only a half-lining. All of these serve to create a crisp, light and uncluttered design.

But Reiss is overpriced (this suit is £395). Everyone I know would say the same, men and women. So if you’re going to get a suit from there I recommend waiting until the summer sales, or visiting one of their discount outlets (such as that in Bicester Village).

As to whether to go for Reiss off-the-peg (altered, as you say) or a company like A Suit That Fits, I think the choice is between material and fit. The Reiss suit will never fit as well as one that has been made for you, but I do rate the materials at Reiss more highly. I would put fit above material but I understand why others do not.

Double-breasted: Harmony v balance

Posted on by Simon Crompton

doubl-breast-hb


I read a discussion recently between sartorialists on whether a double-breasted suit should have cuffs on the trousers or not. Of course there were some declarations about it being a rule that they should, but as with all rules they are subjective and vary geographically. The important thing is to understand the reason behind the rule.

[If you haven’t read them already, you can hear my views on similar rules such as wearing brown in town, white after Labor Day and trousers without a break.]

Having trouser cuffs fits the aesthetic and tradition of a double-breasted suit; it creates harmony. Not having cuffs balances this tradition with something cleaner and more modern; it creates equilibrium. It’s up to you which you want.

A double-breasted suit is generally perceived as being more old-fashioned, and as a result worn by older gentlemen. It is also perceived as being more serious and business-like, particularly in a pinstripe. I’m not saying I agree with these perceptions, but they exist.

And, as with many questions of style, how an outfit is perceived (by either lay or stylish men) is central to its success, whether people admit it or not. A trend is merely a question of mass perception, and propriety, after all. Even if that trend lasts 20 years.

A double-breasted suit is also more bulky than a single-breasted suit and less flattering for shorter or broader men. This is not a question of perception. It is rational: the more horizontal lines and breaks in the material there are, the more the impression of height is lost.

So the question of whether to have trouser cuffs with your double-breasted suit (or which one to buy, for those without access to bespoke) could be rephrased as whether you want to match the aesthetics of the jacket to those of the trouser.

A young man buying his first double-breasted suit would probably not want a six-button jacket and cuffed trousers in a navy chalk stripe. He should go for a slightly more modern version of that ensemble – in a herringbone, perhaps, with four or even two buttons. Yet the chalk stripe might be the objet du désir for a man 10-years older, with a penchant for grandfather clocks and upholding tradition.

Equally, you might feel that you want to find balance for a very traditional shirt and tie (a contrast collar and knitted spot tie, say) with more modern aspects to the suit. Or you want an ultra-traditional suit because the handkerchiefs will be rather wild. The picture above is of a relatively conservative cut (and cuffs). But the shirt, tie and other accessories are certainly not.

Don’t be bound by the rules. If you understand them they will break softly and pleasingly.