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By Manish Puri.

A couple of months ago the stars of friendship aligned for one glorious weekend when two of my dearest London mates - Simon (now residing in South Carolina) and Kevin (now in the Netherlands) - happened to be in New York on the same weekend.

The last time the three of us had taken a trip anywhere was 2009; 16 years isn’t long by astrological standards, but, assuming the same frequency into the future, it would mean our next opportunity to spend this much time together would be in my 60s. That bone-chilling thought hastened me into making arrangements to join them.

Unfortunately, as with most last-minute trips, it wasn’t shaping up to be cheap. A compromise had been reached on the eye-watering costs of NYC accommodation, whereby Kevin and I would share a hotel room so small we'd reach a level of familiarity usually only attained by guests of His Majesty.

In another prudential move, and more significantly from a menswear point of view, I was only going to bring carry-on luggage!

Now, for most of the male population, I concede this won’t seem like much of a sacrifice. But, nestled here in the bosom of my PS brethren, I don’t need to tell you how challenging this was for me - as confided in my Thailand article, I’m one of those overpackers who thinks that he’s just ‘being prepared’.

Into my impossibly small luggage, I would need to cram an unimpeachable selection of clothes; garments that wholly complemented one another, with sufficient versatility to take me from an elegant martini-and-oysters lunch at the wonderful Maison Premiere to sunset beers perched atop plastic children’s stools outside a Chinatown dive.

My cream and brown holiday capsule (above left) certainly met the brief, but felt too soft and clean for a hard and dirty city like New York - that’s a compliment, by the way. An informal edit of Simon’s cold office outfits (above right) would better suit the environment, but with perfect cloudless skies forecast I wanted something a little warmer.

So it’s fitting that on a trip where I reconnected with great old friends, I also rekindled my affection for that great old cornerstone of men’s style: the colour blue.

A dozen years ago, in common with so many guys who’ve embarked on that perilous voyage to improve their style, I found the safest passage to be through the darkest of blue waters. The colour navy became a hedge against the financial and social risks attached to trying new (and usually more expensive) clothes for the first time.

Hence, my Saman Amel navy business suit was augmented with navy knits, navy polos, dark indigo jeans and a navy pea coat. My first bespoke trousers from Pommella were navy twill. My accessories - umbrellas, ties, hats, gloves and scarves - were uniformly navy. And I’ll give you one guess what colour my first and only pair of Common Projects (remember those?) were.

But, lacking the assuredness and wizened charisma of Noboru Kakuta (above), I think I convinced myself that it was all too bland. I was a chicken korma but my heart yearned to be a spicier dish. And like a moody teenager who reflexively thumbs their nose at their parent’s music, I began to reduce the amount of navy clothes I bought and commissioned.

I don't regret those impulses; without them I might never have learned that I prefer trousers to jeans, commissioned a cream linen suit or discovered that I’ll wear pretty much anything in pink.

But in the last couple of years, I’ve found myself buying more blue clothing once again: steely blue tailoring; cerulean t-shirts; azure workwear; baby blue bombers; and a smattering of navy (of course). I’m also now instinctively building outfits that are more monochrome than monotone: the ease and versatility of blue without the sobriety and conservatism of all-navy.

So as I started to sift through what I might want to pack, and could see the dabs of blue forming on the palette, I decided to make like Picasso and fully embrace my blue period for New York. To borrow a description from my favourite Nick Drake song, the clothes I took were “darker than the deepest sea…weaker than the palest blue”.

The plaid shirt, which I nabbed at the inaugural PS pre-owned sale, is from RRL. I generally don’t wear work shirts (of the many words that have been used to describe me, ‘rugged’ isn’t among them), but I think the simple porcelain blue and white makes this one a fraction more refined, and thus less conspicuous if occasionally worn more smartly.

RRL are particularly good at striking that balance, and a cursory Google search threw up quite a few nice options, including one on Marrkt which looks very similar to mine (available at the time of publication).

The washed denim shirt is from J. McLaughlin; their collars are too small, but the fabric used here is excellent - suitably weathered and textured. In bright sunshine, and with an attendant tan, it pairs well with my vintage 501s (from Holdwest), but on gloomier days, to obviate the risk of looking too washed out, the navy PS cotton knit or slate blue Kamoshita x Decorum jacket help anchor it.

The latter (still available in smaller sizes) has proved a big hit over the summer - worn for every occasion from black tie events to drinks in New York, straight off the plane, with my friend Richie (top).

The linen-cotton blend fared pretty well in the suitcase, and the lack of structure and more economical RTW price-point meant I wasn’t clutching my pearls as I folded it away.

The other navy-adjacent item I packed was the PS tapered T-shirt. While listed as ‘navy’, I’d argue it’s a shade lighter, with a subtle inky hue that’s easier to discern when worn with true navy (as above, in a look that coincidentally would fit perfectly alongside my holiday attire). The colouring makes a nice point of difference and gives the T-shirt a vintage feel.

I usually wear Uniqlo U T-shirts, which are a decent option at the price. But the PS T-shirt has a better neckline, softer and more substantial cotton, and a more flattering shape. Not to mention it’s a tubular knit. Like a lot of readers, I’ve been on the waiting list for a while and I’m very impressed with it.

The last two pieces I packed - a wide legged trouser from Decorum (above) and a Rubato polo shirt - were navy, and combined to make a smart but relaxed evening look. There's an interesting parallel with tailoring here: navy on top and bottom rarely draws a second glance, whereas pairing similar, pale blues walks a finer line between being striking and striking out.

However, most successful outfits tend to have some contrast - usually achieved by mixing darker shades with lighter ones or plain fabrics with patterned and textured ones.

For example, in my holiday wardrobe, while the RRL shirt and jeans have a similar tone, the checked pattern of the former helps create enough contrast with the latter. To further delineate top and bottom and add texture, I usually wear a belt; of course, I forgot to do so for this shoot (below), but you can imagine how a nice leather one would help here.

I restricted myself to one pair of shoes - not ideal from a maintenance perspective, but a real space-saver. The lucky pair were black cordovan Alden LHS loafers, the most comfortable leather shoe I own, plus cordovan is generally better at hiding fatigue than calf.

I’ve written before about my general preference for black shoes, but I suspect most readers would take a brown shoe or a canvas sneaker - both of which would work well with this mini wardrobe.

If opting for brown, suede is particularly nice, and for inspiration you don't need to look further than Noboru Kakuta who wears it almost exclusively in his all-blue ensembles.

So, how successful was my packing? Well, I’ve compiled a full list of the clothes I took with me at the end of the article, and I was happy to pair any one of those items with another. What’s more, in contrast to most previous holidays, I wore every single thing at least once.

There was even sufficient room in the case to indulge in a little shopping at the beautiful new Buck Mason flagship store on Broadway. (Pro tip: if, like me, jet lag plays havoc with your sleep, the shop opens at 8am and you can simultaneously get both a caffeine and menswear fix).

But my packing’s true success isn’t measured by luggage-space-optimisation, wears-per-garment or ensemble-permutation metrics; it’s about the clarity and confidence a considered wardrobe can bring.

For the four days I was away, I wasn’t wasting time in my tiny head or my tinier hotel room agonising over what to wear. I was present with my friends, rolling back the years (just with more frequent bathroom breaks). And long after the first hole in the elbow of my jumper appears and the shirts have become threadbare, the memories of our weekend in New York will endure.

Here’s to 2041, lads.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

The full list:

Decorum x Kamoshita jacket
PS x Speciale cotton crew neck
RRL plaid work shirt
J. McLaughlin washed denim shirt
Rubato navy polo shirt
PS tapered navy t-shirt
Vintage Levi’s 501s
Decorum x Kamoshita navy easy trousers
Alden black cordovan LHS loafers

Patience and proportion: How to dress like Illya Sobtchak

Posted on 19/11/202525/11/2025 by Manish Puri

Patience and proportion: How to dress like Illya Sobtchak

Wednesday, November 19^th 2025Tags:

47 Comments

By Manish Puri.

Illya Sobtchak is a menswear photographer and head of marketing and production for London-based denim brand Blackhorse Lane Ateliers.

I’ve long felt he would make a great addition to our ‘How to dress like’ series. Whenever I see him at events, his outfits - blending elements of Americana and workwear - always seem so well considered, and often stand out against the tailoring-heavy backdrop (not that Illya doesn’t enjoy a navy DB blazer or a well-cut suit) .

However, it was a recent post on his Instagram page, where he traced changes to the way he’s dressed over the past decade, that prompted me to reach out for a chat. The collection of photos, where similar ‘before-and-after’ looks were paired side by side, offered a really helpful and quite powerful illustration of that oft-used (and oft-abstract) term: style journey.

The diptychs (a few of which we’ve borrowed for this article) make it clear how small changes to silhouette, proportion and colour can enliven an outfit.

Which isn’t to say that the more recent looks are necessarily the ‘correct’ way (although I certainly prefer them). As Illya told me himself, while most of his followers favoured the latter looks, he did get some comments that preferred his older style.

But as is so often the case, the journey is really about understanding how to dress with intention: appreciating why ‘the rules’ became ‘the rules’, figuring out what proportions look best on you and trying different colour combinations. Then it’s about being patient while you assimilate what you learn, and giving yourself permission to do whatever feels most like you.

Illya, thanks so much for making time to speak with us. In your post, it sounded like a few things changed for you about 10 years ago which got you deeper into menswear. Can you tell us a bit about that please?

Yeah, it’s a bit stereotypical: I went through a break-up, and started going to the gym to make myself feel better as well as changing my lifestyle a little. I lost about 10kg, and with that my wardrobe had to change because I no longer fit most of my old stuff.

I said to myself, I'm going to go and buy things that are more considered, and invest in items rather than shopping off the high street, which is what I previously did.

I spent a lot of time on Reddit where people were recommending capsule wardrobes and ‘must have’ items like chinos and chukkas. But the thing I really connected with was raw denim, because I’ve always loved jeans - I just didn't realise there was a whole movement around them, and that opened everything up for me.

A nice segue to the first pairing, can you talk us through these outfits and what’s changed?

The biggest difference for me is the silhouette of the trousers and the rise - these days I wear a higher rise, which is something I discovered through trial and error. Because, back in the day, even the quality raw-denim shops like Rivet & Hide were catering for a slim leg, streetwear style, which just doesn't work with my body shape. I've got big thighs and plenty of junk in the trunk. So the top block for me is important.

And tapered jeans were also popular, but because I’m top heavy it gave me a bit of a carrot look. So I found a straight leg just gives me a better foundation and a better silhouette. These days I wear the wider leg model from Blackhorse Lane - the E6.

I’m also much more specific about having trousers or jeans hemmed to a specific length. I still have cuffs on jeans but I think with other trousers it looks better and cleaner and flows more naturally. And I think, with cuffs your leg looks smaller.

Here I notice two things immediately. The first is that it's the same jacket, which has aged wonderfully. The second is how much double denim or dark blue-on-blue you used to wear, which is something I think a lot of menswear newcomers can relate to. It’s certainly how I used to routinely dress.

I think this is a particularly nice comparison to show because I bought this jacket in 2014 - it's a Nigel Cabourn x Filson collaboration.

I’m generally more playful with colours now, less double denim. So today I’m more likely to pair this jacket with brown corduroy trousers or orangey duck canvas or a pair of chinos, rather than a darker pair of jeans.

I still wear it with jeans, but it’s also nice to draw out the browns and the olives and the earth tones. I try to make sure everything harmonises, without being overly matchy-matchy. Sometimes you get the balance right and sometimes you go too far. It's always a learning curve.

One thing that doesn’t seem to have changed over time is your love of hats.

Yeah, I’ve always liked the hat as an accessory. I’m bald so it has a function in the cold and the sun. But it's also a chance to style your outfit and play with it.

I also have a hat company with my mum called Hat's Anonymous.  She knits watch caps, which is why I would say it’s a signature of my style. It's a passion project, just very small batch stuff.

These days fedoras and cowboy style hats are a bit more on trend. And I have a friend, Matt Kitter, whose company is called Sierra and South and he makes my hats. I love being able to support friends’ businesses in our community.

Some menswear guys are allergic to anything they perceive to be a trend. You seem more comfortable with the idea, even though you’re not actively pursuing them.

To a certain extent I don't think you can escape trends. We all look somewhere for inspiration. We have to have some kind of source.  Otherwise we're just getting dressed in the dark.

I never feel like I’m wearing something totally original. I’m inspired by so many different people, but hopefully I give my take on it.

I love your summer outfit. I feel like this is how a lot of guys want to look in the summer, but never quite get right.  What's interesting to me is you're actually wearing one extra item of clothing on the right, but you look more easy and relaxed.

I really had to learn to start enjoying summer outfits.  Whereas before it was like, “Oh my God, what do I wear?”

My best advice is to keep things fairly simple and just make little changes to outfits, because you can wear this with chinos and maybe just tuck the shirt in.

I notice you wear more jewellery and accessories in the latter outfits too.

I think for a lot of us who dress in this kind of way there are some really common staples: your jungle jacket, your chinos, your loafers. So how can you make it a little bit of you? The way I would probably put it is I’m just adding a little bit of flavour to my outfit, and to everyday life.

And, as we chatted about earlier, it’s also a nice way to support craftspeople. For example, my motorcycle helmet (below) was painted by Jed, the letter writer who did the signs for Bryceland’s. It's nice, I get to personalise my ride while supporting what's going on in the London community.

Is there anybody you particularly like for accessories?

Yeah, so this guy whose brand is called Mount Hill.  He's based in Japan. I'd put him alongside Red Rabbit Trading Company. And the only other brand I wear is Good Art Hollywood - which I think Simon's written about.

I notice on every current outfit you tuck your top into your bottoms.

Exactly. That was probably the biggest change, tucking my t-shirts, shirts or even knitwear in. I think it helps define your proportions - the rule of thirds that people like to go on about.

Whether you're short or tall, it does help break things up and adds length to your legs, and I think a longer leg just looks nice.

You also mix in more smarter shoes now: loafers, slippers, etc.

I hated loafers for a long time, because suits and loafers were associated with where I worked - my background is IT and I previously worked for a construction company in the Docklands.

The tailoring and shoes I’d see in those environments were not something I’d really want to wear. It was Moss Bros, poor quality, and I just didn't know there was a better way of wearing tailoring. I think part of me loving jeans and workwear was almost like a rebellion against all of that.

But I’m a sponge mixed with a social vampire: I like to be inspired by what I see around me. So when I started working at Blackhorse Lane I would spend a couple of days in the shop, and my friend Wilbur, who's the manager there, is very much into loafers and tailoring - he changed my mind. To the point where I’m like, “ Yeah, actually this can be cool.”

I think your environment is fundamental to how you dress. And, once something is opened up to you, it's hard to go back to one way of thinking.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

Images courtesy of Illya who is @illcutz on Instagram

A sneak peek of ‘An Informal Guide to Workwear’

Posted on 17/10/202517/10/2025 by Manish Puri

A sneak peek of ‘An Informal Guide to Workwear’

Friday, October 17^th 2025Tags:

Casual clothing

11 Comments

By Manish Puri.

When friend of PS Tony Sylvester told us he was publishing a new book, An Informal Guide to Workwear, we knew it would be beautifully written, eclectic in its coverage and as lovingly thorough in its depiction of the cultural zeitgeist as of the clothes that sprang from it.

But we also know it can be nice to read a sample of a book, to get a sense of tone and content before buying it. So we asked Tony if we could get an early copy in order to share something exclusively with readers.

The book dives into so many workwear staples: berets, jeans, Doc Martens, and more pieces of outerwear than any one man will ever need. In the end we picked Tony’s chapter on fireman’s jackets - an item that’s become increasingly sought after in recent years, yet also one that we at PS knew very little about. Here Tony traces the popular Fay jacket’s origins back to the Great Fire of London in 1666.

But first, to help set the scene, we caught up with Tony to talk more about the book and what led him to write it.

Hi Tony! Congratulations on the new book. Can you tell us a little more about it and how it came about please?

I was looking to do a very different book with a publisher and had a wonderful meeting with the fine folk at Batsford Books - an independent imprint which has been going for over 150 years, specialising in art and design titles. While they weren’t interested in the initial idea I had pitched to them, they were keen to work with me, and we figured out a topic that we all agreed could be interesting to explore.

In my subsequent research I discovered they had actually published the seminal Working Dress: History of Occupational Clothing by Diana De Marly in 1986, so it was high time to revisit the subject.

In the book you speak about growing up in a time when what you wore could signal your tribe or your politics. How did those early experiences with youth culture shape your long-term fascination with workwear and its symbolism?

I feel pretty privileged to have grown up when I did, around the wellspring of subcultures in the late 70s and early 80s - I talked a lot about this with Simon at the Permanent Style talk a couple of years back. I have a deep fascination for clothes’ ‘second life’ and how clobber gets reused and reinterpreted, often ending up as a signifier far away from its intended utility.

This is especially true of workwear, and goes back almost to its foundations, with 19th century French artists adopting the trappings of the field worker or rich Americans donning jeans and boots on weekend retreats or ‘Dude Ranches’ in the early 20th Century. Both speak to some sense of the ‘authenticity’ of the clothing imbuing something to the wearer.

In the chapter on donkey jackets in the book, you have students and skinheads in the 80s adopting the coats as symbols of bona fide working class realness, whilst the labour leader Michael Foot gets an ear bashing from the right wing press for daring to wear one to the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday- a ‘crime’ it turns out he did not actually commit!

So he might not have put his Foot in it? Sorry... We’ve seen workwear go from utility to subculture to luxury fashion and back again. Why do you think certain items — chore coats, jeans, boots — keep returning and being reinterpreted?

Honestly, I personally think denim is not the most practical of materials: it’s neither a good insulator in the cold or particularly breathable in the heat, in fact it was mostly used as a cheap furnishing fabric prior to the development of jeans. But it holds so much cultural history in its warp and weft.

As I point out in the introduction of the book, Hollywood, the Civil Rights movement, and every possible archetype of American Male from the 20th century have left their mark on the humble cloth.

I think it is this broadness and diversity that gives jeans, in particular, so much scope for reinterpretation. In pure PS menswear terms, I think of Drake’s lookbooks in the early 2010s mixing up denim with chambray shirts, ties and tweed sports coats that really captured that ‘rugged sartorial’ appeal of the ‘Fuckyeah Menswear’ era.

These fits leant heavily on the “Warhol look” of the 1970s - where Andy Warhol and his business manager Fred Hughes popularised the style. According to Warhol’s biographer Bob Colacello “[Hughes’s].. Levi’s 501 looked as if they’d been altered on Savile Row… Fred was the first to wear jeans with suit jackets, but when Andy adopted the style as his uniform it became known as the Warhol Look."

Your experience - especially in retail and music - has brought you into close contact with a lot of the workwear pieces you write about. Were there any stories that were new to you or did your research lead you to a fresh appreciation of any particular item?

Doing the research was by far the most fascinating part of the whole process; especially the more theoretical and philosophical underpinnings - my wife Dr Cyana Madsen was a treasure trove in this regard as one of her specialist areas is biography in worn clothing - she was able to point me in the direction of Roland Barthes’s 1967 book The Fashion System and other notable writers on clothing and the dressed body.

There is a certain level of myth busting in the book which was equally gratifying - boring things like patents can really clear up any misunderstandings on the age of certain items, and I particularly enjoyed wrestling with the thorny issue of the term 'corduroy'.

You’ve lived through several revivals of workwear — from the skinhead scene to heritage menswear to today’s 1990s-inspired moment. What do you imagine the next chapter of workwear might look like, and what might it say about the era we’re entering?

I’m sort of fascinated how the 70s designer era is mingling with the 90s revival and creating the catwalk workwear of Sacai’s Carhartt collab and Louis Vuitton’s chore coats and Timbs. It feels like late-stage capitalism at its nadir or zenith - depending on your worldview I suppose!

In the TV version of Emily St John Mandel’s Station Eleven, the post-apocalyptic denizens all cling to the clothing that has survived mankind’s demise - lots of ultra-tough cordura and synthetic workwear staples dress the ragged survivors. Perhaps that will be the next and final legacy?

Well, I'm off to stockpile some synthetic workwear for what I hope is the very distant future. But looking to the near future, we wish you all the best with the book and thank you for your time Tony.

Extract: Fireman’s jacket

The roots of the fireman’s uniform come in the wake of the Great Fire of London in 1666. This was a boom time for fire insurance, and private companies raised their own brigades of part-time firefighters, who would be issued with their own livery – caps, coats, breeches and waistcoats in the chosen colour of the company. The priority here was visibility and marketing rather than life saving.

It was not until the early 19th century that the private firms began to be reined in under public control, and in 1833 the London Fire Engine Establishment was brought together from disparate firms into one streamlined conglomerate. Sobriety became the order of the day, and heavy serge grey Melton wool tunics and trousers were issued. The livery lived on in rows of brightly polished brass buttons bearing crests with crossed hatchets. Nationwide, this new standard took hold.

As technology developed, the most important part of the fireman’s ‘bunker gear’ (so named as it was hung next to the individual’s bunk at the station house ready to be sprung into action) was his protective coat. In late Victorian times, this consisted of a ‘fearnought’ – a coarse woollen duffel coat doused with water before each mission. The 1930s brought waterproof rubber coats into the mix, in the trademark yellow we still associate with firefighting.

My favourite development in the evolution of the fireman’s jacket came on 26 July 1962. An enterprising chap named Jess A Brewer applied to the US Patents Office for a newfangled clip fastening, one of a bevy of safety measures for firemen’s clobber patented around the same time. The idea was that a begloved fireman could still fasten and unfasten his coat at will, without getting snagged up.

The idea follows the lobster clasps of World War II-era US Navy deck jackets, but oversized and far more resilient. So, firemen on the East Coast of America adopted a style of coat using this closure method – a thigh-length jacket with an extra panelled placket with the heavy clips and a high rolling collar to protect the neck. This remains pretty much standard to this day, in no small part because, aside from being practical, they look pretty badass.

This might seem a little humdrum and even cumbersome an item to appeal to a more fashionable crowd, but a civilian version started appearing in Ralph Lauren collections for men and women from the 1970s.

In the next decade, two Italian brothers, Diego and Andrea Della Valle, found themselves in rural Maine and happened upon the local firefighting troop in their rugged finery. The brothers were the chairmen of their family-run luxury leather goods brand Tod’s. Quite taken by the distinctive metal fastenings on the troop’s jackets, they tracked down the makers and began to import them back into Europe. Some 40 years on, their sub brand Fay’s signature Quattro Ganci (from the Italian word for ‘hook’) coat is an icon of high flying Italian sprezzatura.

An Informal Guide to Workwear by AW Sylvester is available for pre-order now and will be published by Batsford Books on November 6th. Illustrations by Michael Parkin.

Image of Tony courtesy of @jkf_man

Rock, paper, scissors: Nina Penlington Bespoke

Posted on 03/09/202503/09/2025 by Manish Puri

Wednesday, September 3^rd 2025Tags:

Sat by the window of The Red Lion just off Jermyn Street, Nina Penlington tells me what first led her to Savile Row: “My plan was to learn some tailoring skills and move into designing menswear. After about six weeks I realised that ain’t happening. Not everyone can be Lee McQueen.”

That was 18 years ago, and since then Nina has gone on to cut for three very different, long-established houses of the Row: Dege & Skinner, Gieves & Hawkes and, most recently, Edward Sexton - working under Edward himself until he passed in 2023.

In 2024, Nina took some leave for health reasons. “It gave me some head space, and I started to sketch some of the designs that I’ve been thinking about for years. My drawings are a bit shit, but they got the ideas out of my head and helped me refine my voice aesthetically.” This year she started her own brand: Nina Penlington Bespoke.

While Nina says she doesn’t have a fixed house-style, I think it’s fair to say there is a strong house-culture.

It’s one where British rock ‘n’ roll glamour mixes with the hazy psychedelia of Laurel Canyon Americana. Where a velvet suit is de rigueur for popping into the shops and getting a pint of milk and a scratch card on your way home from a night out. (Nina has previously made tailoring for Jarvis Cocker of Pulp, so there’s probably more truth to that description than I realise.)

Underpinning it all is a sense of fun mixed with thoughtful intention. “Clothes are not something to take too seriously. But making clothes is something I certainly take seriously,” she says. Both facets are perhaps evident in the photo above of one of her offshore bespoke commissions - a single breasted dinner suit in a wool/mohair cloth by Smith Woollens, crowned with a xeroxed image of Bryan Ferry.

The style is fairly typical of what one can expect from Nina: padded shoulder, moderately wide lapel, high armhole and a higher, suppressed waistline. Nina offers a full bespoke service requiring a minimum of three fittings alongside a cheaper offshore programme where a suit is cut by her, but basted and finished offshore after one fitting.

One of her signature pieces is the ‘Get Back’ suit inspired by a three-piece worn by Paul McCartney during The Beatles valedictory public performance on the rooftop of 3 Savile Row in 1969.

“I’ve spoken to so many customers about this suit over the years,” says Nina. “It looks like a smart, classic 60s West End suit, but what’s interesting is how Macca makes it feel so casual when he wears it with beaten-up shoes or a grubby grandad shirt.” This is the suit I’ve commissioned (or, as Nina calls it, "the Manish version of the Get Back suit”), and I’ll review it in the autumn.

That gig (and the 2021 film that documents it) has proved an inspiration to Nina in more ways than one. “I love how the stage-managed image of ‘The Fab Four’ evolved into four guys with very individual styles; they’re untethered from what had come before. I’m fascinated by that creative freedom, and I feel like I’m now in a place where I get to make the clothes I enjoy.”

She catches herself, buries her face in her hands and hastily adds: “Not that I’m comparing myself to The Beatles!”

A Western suit on the board in Holland & Sherry cavalry twill

Nina expands on what that freedom means for her clients: “At a big tailoring house, you’re working to someone else’s time - which is right. But now I get to choose how I spend that time. I feel unencumbered, and have the space to think about each individual and their style and the garment I'm making for them.”

Some of that time is spent reading and responding to the cloth once it’s laid out on the board. “What might feel right on paper, might not work when it’s chalked out. What’s the cloth telling you? I might want to change the lapel slightly or add a lapped seam.”

Of course, everything is done in consultation with the customer. “There’s no point if you won’t wear it. And I really want people to wear their good stuff - life’s too short. But I do have more confidence telling you what I like, which is part of what I think people are paying a cutter for.”

And taking cues from the cloth is how Nina loves to work. It’s the reason she’s curating a bunch of her favourite fabrics along with suggestions on the styles she thinks they complement best; this can then be presented to a new customer, which I think is a great way of introducing them to the brand’s world.

“Often a cloth dictates to me what it should become as a suit”, she says. A prime example of this is the development of her Western suit, something Nina toyed with unsuccessfully for years, until a customer came in with a twill overcoat cloth that had the right weight and robustness for what she envisioned.

And now the Western suit she offers is full of technical and hand-finished elements that call upon her past cutting experiences. Consequently, this style is only available through the full bespoke programme.

The pockets are curved ‘smile pockets’, finished at each corner with arrowheads that are hand sewn by Nina using a heavy thread specially sourced from a notions shop in New York.

The jacket has no centre-back seam - a style Nina is familiar with from cutting mess kits at Dege & Skinner - and so the rear yoke isn’t merely a decorative Western signifier, but instrumental to adding shape to the back and helping the jacket hug the neck. The yoke on the trouser performs a similar function in place of darts. All the yokes are felled and top stitched by hand.

These details and techniques have been refined over time. “My style is wildly different to Davide [Taub, head cutter at Gieves & Hawkes], but I learned a lot from him in the way he would look at one element of a garment, get obsessed with it, and evolve it slowly until it was perfected.”

Jarvis Cocker in an older velvet suit made by Nina (photo *courtesy of* *Lauren Krohn)*

The house model that might initially strike you as counterintuitive is the Everyday Velvet suit. After all, isn’t velvet nocturnal? A vampire cloth only seen after dark in candlelit dining rooms and smoke-filled cigar lounges? “One of the things that makes a suit rock n’ roll to me is taking a cloth that’s mostly associated with evening wear and wearing it whenever you want,” says Nina.

And so, the Everyday Velvet reframes the cloth into something that can be worn for any occasion. The style is based on a vintage velvet suit Nina had as a teenager. “Growing up in north Wales in the 90s, I wore a lot of vintage stuff and got the piss taken out of me a lot because vintage wasn’t cool the way it is now. But I adored that suit, it eventually fell apart and I’ve never been able to replace it until now.”

Nina describes the jacket as “casual country” with big patch pockets, swelled edges and most strikingly a notch lapel. “A lot of customers expect it to have a peak lapel, but I’m slowly pulling them over to the dark side.” Another subtle subversion of the traditional velvet dinner jacket.

Given her love of vintage, it’s no surprise that Nina (like many tailors and designers) embraces the idea of her suits becoming ‘future vintage’. But her motives are less about proving durability or stylistic longevity, and more concerned with the story it tells others about the original owner.

“I think you buy vintage for the life of a garment. And when you wear it you get imbued with its history which influences how you feel in it. I recently bought a ridiculous shearling coat in San Francisco, and every time I put it on I think: who was the groupie that wore this?”

So how does she want the wearers of her tailoring to feel? “I want an ordinary guy to feel like a rock star,” she says. It’s a declaration that resonates, in a summer where the triumphant return of Oasis and the passing of Ozzy Osbourne have got me thinking about why so many people seem to be yearning for old-fashioned rock stars.

I think it’s because the essence of a rock star is someone who presents a truly authentic and individual expression of themselves, but in today’s cultural environment that authenticity is harder to find - or maybe it’s just harder to believe. So feeling like a rock star might simply mean developing an individual style and wearing the clothes that feel most like you. “It’s not about leather trousers and a skinny tie. It’s about having the freedom to dress as you wish,” says Nina.

Emma Richardson in full bespoke, cloth H.Lesser 30930

To readers who prefer that dress to be more backstage than front man, more George Martin than George Harrison, I should say that the eclectic playlist of Nina’s house specialties (the ‘Get Back’ suit, the Western, the Everyday Velvet) are merely jumping off points - a shorthand for communicating her visual identity.

Within reason, there aren’t many restraints on what you can make - this is bespoke, after all. “I’m more than happy to make a morning suit or a classic business suit,” she says. Although, interestingly, Nina estimates that as many as 95% of her clients don’t wear her suits to work. Presumably the 5% includes artist and musician Emma Richardson, who’s planning on wearing her full bespoke suit on the job - it just happens to be on tour with the band Pixies.

But flexibility of bespoke aside, there’s no doubt that Nina’s is a style with a clear and strong viewpoint, which inevitably means it won’t be for everyone. She’s sanguine about such things: “Finding a cutter is about finding someone you align with. It’s like going on a date, they might tick all the boxes, but you need to have chemistry.”

Whatever your take, and for the record I’m a big fan, I hope we can agree that the state of bespoke tailoring has always been invigorated by the impetus of a fresh perspective - albeit here one that’s been honed over nearly two decades in the trade.

Not that Nina believes she is pioneering something new. “I’m not sure if it is possible to do anything entirely new now, unless you’re a really avant-garde designer. But I’m not a designer, I just love the craft.”

And it's true, Nina Penlington Bespoke does evoke some of the uproarious spirit of 70s trailblazers Nutters of Savile Row. She’s just turned the volume down slightly, to better suit today’s audience.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

Nina Penlington is on Instagram @ninapenlingtonbespoke, and can be contacted at [email protected]. Her upcoming US trunk show dates include New York (September 18-19), Washington DC (20), Nashville (22-23), Los Angeles (25-26) and San Francisco (29-30).

Prices (ex. VAT) from:

£4500 for full bespoke

£5500 for Western suit

£1995 for offshore bespoke (Offshore is limited to classic styles. More details to come in my review article)

Photos of Nina courtesy of Peter Zottolo. Photo of Emma courtesy of James Burns.

Three eyewear brands recommended by Astrologo Ottica

Posted on 15/08/202516/08/2025 by Manish Puri

Friday, August 15^th 2025Tags:

While on holiday in Italy a few years ago, I wanted to find some beautiful sunglasses, because is there any country that’s done more for the accessory? Both in terms of manufacturing and cultural positioning.

Was it too much to hope I too could swan about the boot looking like Marcello Mastroianni in La Dolce Vita (above)? (The answer to that question turns out to be yes; the reasons why are numerous and entirely unconnected to eyewear.)

You can imagine my disheartenment upon finding that everywhere in Italy seemed to sell the same designer-branded rubbish I could have bought at Heathrow. I abandoned my fantasy and headed to Schostal in Rome to buy some pyjamas to soothe myself.

As I approached along Via della Fontanella di Borghese, just a few doors from Schostal, I passed another shop’s window display: gleaming white with a small selection of glasses artfully arranged. The absence of decals promoting Tom Ford and Gucci and Ray-Ban was promising. I stepped inside.

The shop was Astrologo Ottica, and while its glossy counters, minimalist styling and cosmic-sounding name all seemed futuristic, the service and the product proved to be steeped in old-fashioned values: stylish, handcrafted goods sold by knowledgeable people.

The business is run by Fabrizio Russo (above with his mother Paola and father Francesco, all opticians), but was started in 1932 by his grandfather (another optician). In 2006, the shop moved to its current location near the Spanish Steps; Fabrizio couldn’t immediately recall the year, but cheerily notes: “It was when Italy won the World Cup”.

Astrologo Ottica stocks over 30 eyewear brands from around the world, most of whom are personally scouted by Fabrizio - either at optical fairs like SILMO in Paris and MIDO in Milan or through online channels. It’s a deliberately eclectic selection, a rejoinder to the homogeneous supremacy of behemoths like Safilo and EssilorLuxottica.

“The brands under Luxottica use the same factory, same mindset, same product,” says Fabrizio. “And a lot of the frames are [cheaper] plastic, which has no weight or strength and is more likely to break than quality acetate. The frames of the brands we sell are much more durable.”

But, in such a competitive and aggressively marketed industry, convincing customers to buy eyewear from small, obscure artisans isn’t easy. “The big brands don’t have to explain anything. I have to sell through my knowledge, through explanation. I might not make a sale today, but I’ve planted a seed.”

It’s that combination of expertise and diversity of offering that keeps me coming back to Astrologo Ottica.

On my first visit, Fabrizio instantly spotted I had a pinguecula (a small benign growth) on my left eye and reminded me of the importance of protective eyewear in the sun. I’ve had countless eye exams, and this was the first time anyone had mentioned it.

I’ve now visited three times in total, and on each occasion I’ve left with a new, very different pair of sunglasses (all above). And in a trajectory that will be all too familiar to PS readers, each one was more expensive than the last.

On my last visit in June, I sat down with Fabrizio and asked him to show me a few of his favourite brands to share with you. We’ve focused on sunglasses as these are less risky to buy remotely, but the brands mentioned all sell eyeglasses too.

Astrologo Ottica has a webshop that ships abroad. And, I’m sure readers vacationing in Rome will appreciate knowing that the Tax Refund office is just a few doors away from the physical store - which makes purchases that much more tempting. Please note though, the shop is currently closed until August 28th, and any web orders placed now will be processed on that date.

I’ve also included links to the individual brand’s websites where you’ll be able to purchase directly or enquire about local stockists.

Press eyewear

AO link / Brand link

Model above is Birth in Forever colour ($725)

A new brand (launched in 2024) from New York designer Jeff Press. The Press frames are almost exclusively made in Japan from Italian acetate, but their buffalo horn frames are handcrafted in Germany where “the best [horn] artisans” reside, according to Fabrizio.

The collection is fitted with Zeiss lenses - mostly bio-nylon or LightPro. The former delivers the lightness and durability of standard nylon lenses, but is more environmentally-friendly as it’s plant-based rather than petroleum-based.

The latter offers the same anti-glare benefits of polarised lenses, but is more selective in what light it filters, making it easier to see shadow and contrast, and read digital devices.

If there’s one thing that Fabrizio imprinted on me, it’s the importance of good lenses.

“When I buy brands, the frame’s design and material is important. But, I am an optician, and the lens is the number one most important. It’s what protects your eyes,” says Fabrizio. “The lenses in our glasses are made from reputable brands: Leica, Zeiss, Divel, Hoya.”

Of course, what makes a good lens would require a whole other article. Fabrizio is happiest when talking about UVA and UVB, spherical and chromatic aberration, anti-glare and anti-reflection, organic and mineral; I won’t pretend to know what all of these terms mean, let alone why they’re important, but I’m confident taking his advice.

Ophy eyewear

AO link / Brand link

Model above is Gropius in Polished Black (€315)

Ophy’s collection is Italian through and through: a Sicilian designer (Placido Minissale), Italian lenses (Divel) and Italian made using Italian acetate - specifically Mazzucchelli, the world’s oldest and largest manufacturer.

Of the glasses we looked at, the Ophy glasses were the boldest with strong frames made up of sharp angles and straight, almost architectural lines - clearly a formative inspiration given the names of some of the models: Gropius, Gehry and Mies.

The colour options help make these glasses more approachable and wearable - most of Ophy’s frames are black or very dark Havana brown. And, I can see them balancing out rounder faces or complementing structured tailoring.

Fabrizio proceeded to show me a brand new capsule that Ophy had made in collaboration with renowned Italian hatmaker, Borsalino.

The collection is inspired by four cinematic icons: Marcello Mastroianni, Ingrid Bergman, Jean-Paul Belmondo and Alain Delon. (The latter pair worked together on a 1970 French gangster film Borsalino, which helped repopularise the fedora-style hat.)

The Marcello (above) is a shallow-lensed frame with thick arms that (although not identical) clearly nods to the glasses worn by Mastroianni in Fellini’s 8 ½ (below). Generally, Fabrizio is wary of shallow lenses (“they can let too much sun in under your eyes when you lie back on a sunlounger”), but I’m ok with that - my Mastroianni fantasy can only be thwarted so many times, Fabrizio!

The only thing I wasn't keen on was the Borsalino logo on the left arm - one of the few overtly branded frames in the shop.

Lunetterie Générale

AO link / Brand link

Model above is Hello Roméo in Vintage Crystal (€625)

A Canadian brand started by Julien Couture in 2018, Lunetterie Générale’s eyewear is handmade in Japan. Fabrizio tells me: “The Japanese have a strong optical culture, which might be because they have quite a high rate of myopia among their population.”

The acetate used for the frames is also Japanese, which tends to be denser and stiffer than the Italian variety due to an extended curing process - making it more expensive. Japanese acetate has a sharper, more glassy finish to it. “The way it’s brushed, it almost looks like marble,” adds Fabrizio.

Fabrizio describes Lunetterie Générale’s models as “more classical and elegant - especially the men’s designs”. With surgical precision he identifies my achilles heel and adds: “They look very nice with tailoring.”

Having eyed the brand on each of my three visits, that nudge from Fabrizio was all I needed to take the leap from Browser’s Bluff into Buyer’s Bay.

And, having previously purchased thicker acetate frames from Ottica Astrologo, I opted for the Cavalier Seul (above): a 4mm-thick frame made from beta-titanium (an alloy with a higher weight to strength ratio than pure titanium).

The relative simplicity of the mid-century style is subtly embellished with a few details like the gold-plated nose pads and end tips, and the etched finishing on the bridge and frame (see below). The lenses (a blue-green gradient) have a rounded-hexagon shape; the Mirage model offers similar details with a more typical rounded shape.

A few other notable brands:

The two other sunglasses I’ve purchased from Fabrizio are:

A pretty classic dark brown Wayfarer (Tazi €119) from Milanese brand Gast
A dark blue pair with a keyhole-bridge (Geronimo $375) from Miami brand Tejesta, who take inspiration from the American West - I love the cactus pins on the front

Astrologo Ottica stocks a collection of exquisite and intricate frames from Japanese brand Matsuda (€625 to €1650, above is the M3148 at €800), all of which are made in their dedicated workshop in Sabae, Japan.

And, finally, they’re not stocked by Astrologo Ottica, but I know readers will ask: The La Dolce Vita glasses are PO3260S from Persol. I couldn’t find a definitive source for the glasses in 8 ½, but quite a few people reckon they’re Prada SPR07F.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

The cream of the crop: My favourite off-white shirts

Posted on 13/08/202516/04/2026 by Manish Puri

Wednesday, August 13^th 2025Tags:

Readers might have noticed that I’m quite fond of a light shirt.

*Not honest enough. A breakthrough won’t come if you stay in denial*

Readers, if I could be any animal I’d be a cat, the cat that got the cream…shirt.

*What the hell are you jibbering about man?! Stop pussyfooting around and be direct!*

Readers…I’m obsessed with off-white shirts. I sit around all day fantasising about the cute little outfits I can make with them. I draw doodles about them on my ring binder. There’s a Parisian bridge with a padlock on it that has “MP 4 OWS” engraved on it. I’m hopeless.

But I'm not oblivious - I know I have a problem. The pale white trail of breadcrumbs leading to this ivory tower is a long one. As far back as 2023 I wrote, “I seem to have developed a slightly out-of-control fetish for cream/ecru shirts”. (Yes, I have the world's dullest fetish).

And now, every time I open my wardrobe it looks like a Farrow & Ball colour chart. All White, Skimming Stone, Pointing, Slipper Satin; you name the shade, I’ve got the shirt. I’ve seen Greek yoghurts with more colour variation.

But how did I get to this state? Well, you know that my preference for darker trousers dictates a lighter top to create contrast. And I just find cream tends to be warmer, more flattering and less clinical than white. It’s the difference between 35mm and 4K. It’s why romance occurs by the light of a candle and not the glare of a bulb.

It’s too late for me to change my ways; the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Just today, even though I have more cream than a French dairy, I was eyeing up The Anthology’s off-white cotton, silk, merino shirt in incognito mode on my phone.

But I want to save you from the same obsessive fate dear reader. In this article, I’ve highlighted two of my favourite off-white shirts - one formal and one casual - that I think are all most readers will ever need, and I’ve listed some alternative options along the way. As always, I’d love to hear about your favourites in the comments section.

The silk dress shirt

This sand washed silk dress shirt - an MTM purchase from La Bowtique (£450) - is actually the last cream shirt I bought, and has proved so successful that it prompted this reevaluation of my entire wardrobe of light-coloured shirts.

It’s a luxurious option without appearing overtly flashy or luxe; the epitome of what the ideology of ‘quiet luxury’ (if we really must use that term) meant before it became just another aesthetic fad.

That appearance comes from the sandwashing process, which removes a lot of the silk’s natural lustre and gives it a soft, matte, almost suede-like handle. In fact, the closest comparison is with Solbiati’s Art du Lin - an Art du Soie, if you will.

(Speaking of Art du Lin, the brown suit shown here is from The Anthology in their exclusive cappuccino colour - available in RTW, it’s a versatile shade that would fit perfectly into my cream-and-brown holiday capsule. The tie is from Speciale).

As you’d expect for a dress shirt, it works great with a silk tie, and I think it’s even smart enough to wear with black tie - as I did one evening in Florence this summer (above, wearing a pink linen MTM jacket from New & Lingwood and photographed by Lorenzo Sodi).

It drapes fantastically, despite being a relatively light 3.5oz, so I’d caution against getting one that’s too slim and allow that beautiful silk to flow from the chest into the waistband of your trousers. For that same reason, I also think a silk shirt makes a more elegant option than cotton for those tailored outfits that forego a tie entirely.

I’ve worn this shirt a lot more than I anticipated, which has also meant I’ve had to take the plunge and wash it at home. So far, I’ve had no issues doing so using a cool, delicate cycle that finishes on a low spin setting. The silk does feel compact and tight when it dries, but ironing it at a low heat quickly restores its natural ease.

Other options:

The best RTW option I’ve found in this category is the New & Lingwood ivory sandwash silk shirt (£275).

Readers looking for a more dramatic style might like this silk spearpoint collar model from Edward Sexton (£475).

I continue to recommend LEJ’s silk 1-Pocket Officer’s Shirt (£395, above), which I wrote about a couple of years ago. However, it’s undeniably a more casual option than any of the shirts above, with a softer collar, a chest pocket and larger buttons.

The utility shirt

I’ve bracketed this type of shirt as a ‘utility’ shirt, by which I really just mean one that is most useful to you. How that’s determined will (as always) depend on what you already have in your wardrobe, what best suits your lifestyle and what climate you live in.

But, for many of us, I suspect it's a casual, relaxed shirt that can be worn tucked in or left loose, has at least one pocket, and comes in an interesting fabric - maybe something with a little texture, or a weight that’s not typical of your other shirts. It’s a bonus if you can wear it with both jeans and some form of tailored trouser.

The shirt that ticks most of those boxes for me is the Rubato ecru chambray work shirt (£275), which is made from a 5oz Japanese chambray that’s been pre-rinsed to soften it up a touch. I’m wearing a medium - which is what I wear across the entire Rubato range. It’s a minor point, but that consistency isn’t as common as one might expect, and enables consumers to buy with confidence.

During Rubato’s recent PS pop-up in London, Oliver expressed surprise at how much more popular the ecru was than the classic light blue. I wonder if that’s partly due to the ubiquity of the light blue; the ecru is a nice point of difference and notionally easier to pair with denim.

I also think a lot of light blue chambrays on the market require a bit of wear and tear to get them to their optimal state, whereas what you see is what you get with an ecru.

The front of the shirt has two asymmetrical ‘covenience’ pockets; one patch, one bigger patch-flap and both secured with buttons, which I always find very practical when travelling or on those days out when you want to carry a few small valuables without lugging a bag everywhere.

Other options:

If I lived somewhere with a more dependably hot summer, I’d want to maximise the utility of my light shirts by opting for a lighter, breezier style. Readers that followed my adventures in Thailand won’t be surprised to hear that The Anthology’s off-white Bigman shirt ($325, above) would be my choice here.

The J. Mueser team have expanded their RTW significantly in the last 12 months and this ivory work shirt in Tencel ($245) is one of my favourite new designs from them.

Buck Mason’s Palomino ($168) shirt is a good western-inspired option made in a cotton/wool blend. It’s described as a white shirt, but you can see in their shop images that it's a softer warm white.

An Oxford cloth button down fits most of my criteria for a utility shirt, and could even be swapped with the dress shirt for some outfits. They have a lovely vintage quality in cream, but they’re not as easy to find as most retailers stock them in white. However, Drake’s currently has a nice cream OCBD (£195).

A more casual option would be this Haversack band collar shirt (£325) in a cotton/linen blend. The shirt is designed to be worn untucked which I think is an easier way to wear a collarless style.

To bring us full circle, and bridge the silk dress shirt and the utility shirt, readers might want to look at Bryceland’s Hollywood silk sports shirt (£489).

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

Photos by @adnatt

I’ve added a few shots of some of the shirts mentioned above for a little styling inspiration. From top to bottom they are: J. Mueser, Bryceland's, Haversack (via Clutch Cafe) and Buck Mason.

An Introduction to Thai Silk

Posted on 11/08/202508/09/2025 by Manish Puri

Simon is away on holiday this week, so you have a whole wonderful week of Manish to look forward to.

On my recent trip to Thailand in celebration of my girlfriend’s birthday, in between attending three menswear dinners, documenting all of my outfits, and getting bitten by a snake, we actually managed to find time to do a couple of things that she wanted to do. I know, it’s give give give with me.

Top of the list in Bangkok were visits to two separate but complementary tourist attractions: the Jim Thompson House and the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles (located within the grounds of the Grand Palace).

These museums gave me a better understanding of sericulture (the name for the cultivation of silkworms and the extraction of silk), a greater appreciation of the beauty of Thai silk, and an insight into the story behind its resurgence in popularity in the second half of the 20th century - to the extent that I picked up a couple of lengths myself.

Legend has it that silk was first discovered in the 27th century BC by the Empress Leizu; as she enjoyed some tea under the shade of a mulberry tree, a cocoon fell into her cup and the warmth of the liquid caused silk to spool out of it.

Archaeological evidence in Baan Chiang dates silk in Thailand back over 3,000 years. Although how production began in the country remains unclear. Was it developed independently or imported? The Maritime Silk Road connected China and India via ports in several Asian countries, including what we now call Thailand, and many historians believe this is the most likely genesis.

The video above (commissioned by the Museum of Textiles) gives an excellent overview of how Thai silk is made, and a few things become immediately apparent, chief among them the predominance of women in production and how laborious the process is. And remember, a simple necktie requires around 100-150 cocoons of silk, to create tailoring would need thousands.

The entire process is still largely hand powered - which is one of the things that gives Thai silk its reputation for quality. Of course, as Simon learned on his OMTC visit, this also means that it's slow, expensive and hard to resource - requiring years of experience to get right.

So, while Thailand is a major global producer of silk (depending on your source, their output ranks somewhere between fourth and seventh), they are still dwarfed by China, which makes around three-quarters of the world’s silk.

There are a few different types of silk made in Thailand. One of the most extensively produced is dupioni (above), whose yarn comes from dupion cocoons, which are formed when two silkworms spin their cocoons close together resulting in a slubbier yarn.

Thai silk usually comes from yellow cocoons, which tend to have more surface texture than the white cocoons used in China - the difference in colour is a result of the silkworm’s hemolymph (blood). That extra texture makes Thai silk particularly well suited to producing dupioni cloth.

The most expensive silk is brocade (above), a type of weave where an additional weft yarn is woven into the cloth for ornamental purposes.

The result is a richly decorative silk that requires considerable patience and expertise. A master weaver often works alongside a few assistants, whose sole responsibility is to monitor and count the threads of the pattern being woven. A sarong length can take a month to complete.

For these reasons, brocade is often reserved for the very finest garments, and is heavily featured in the dress of the Royal family.

One of the most coveted silks is mat mii (also known as ikat - above), which is mainly woven in the north-eastern region of Isan. Mat mii is a resist dyeing technique used before weaving.

Prior to being dyed, the weft yarn is gathered together, parts of it are wrapped in banana leaf (which help the yarn ‘resist’ the dye) and parts are left exposed (to absorb the dye). You can see this on the loose threads of my cloth (below); a mix of green and orange create the pattern.

This process might be repeated several times, using different coloured dyes and with different areas of the yarn covered. The dyed weft is then woven with the warp to produce silk cloth of strikingly intricate patterns.

I bought the length I bought in Bangkok. I’ve considered making a tie out of it, but it almost seems a shame to cut the silk and discard parts of it, so it may remain intact as a wall hanging.

Even after all these centuries, I’m genuinely astonished by the stages of cultivation, extraction, spinning, dyeing and weaving required to make a single length of plain cloth.

The idea that someone would then say, “we can make this better”, and proceed to part-dye one of the yarns, without being able to visualise what the end result would look like, is crazy. And then find a way of recording what produced a pleasing pattern, so it could be replicated.

It’s a remarkable testament to the patience, innovation and stubbornness of humans in the pursuit of something beautiful.

And yet, as we PS readers know all too well, craft and beauty are neither given favour nor granted immunity against the often subtle, sometimes seismic shifts in the sociopolitical landscape. By the 1940s, the very notion of what being Thai meant was changing - the result of a series of cultural mandates issued by the government of Field Marshal Plaek Pibulsonggram.

These mandates were an instrument used to modernise Thai culture. The edict on clothing instructed that "appropriate dress for Thai people consists of […] polite international-style attire”. The picture above shows inappropriate dress on the left and appropriate dress on the right.

This shift in national dress, which rejected traditional wrapped clothing, along with the proliferation of industrial textile production and synthetic fibres, meant that by the late 40s the Thai silk industry was in terminal decline.

It took two pivotal figures to resurrect it - an American spy and a Thai monarch (below).

James Thompson (above) was born in Delaware in 1906. His maternal grandfather, a General in the American Civil War, travelled across China building a railway, and his father was a wealthy textile merchant. With hindsight, the lives and experiences of these men seem destined to define young Jim.

After a stint as an architect, Jim ended up working for the Office of Strategic Services (the predecessor to the CIA) and for his final assignment in 1945, was set to parachute into northern Thailand to support the Free Thai movement, when the Japanese surrender was announced on the radio.

The war was over, but Thompson elected to stay in Bangkok, where his love for Thai culture and craft was kindled.

In the late 1940s, Thompson (above right) began to sell bolts of silk in the lobby of the Oriental hotel - the first hotel built in Thailand, and one which he part-owned for a short time. In 1951, the Thai Silk Company was incorporated.

Early in the company’s history, Jim made the acquaintance of Edna Wollman Chase, the editor-in-chief of Vogue magazine. Struck by the rich colours and the quality of the silk, Edna is said to have hailed it as a “magnificent new discovery”, and introduced Thompson to prominent designer friends.

Around the same time, Thompson was contacted by Academy Award-winning costume designer Irene Sharaff, who was in preparation for the opening of a new Broadway musical, written by Rodgers and Hammerstein and set in old Siam (the official name for Thailand until 1939); the show was The King and I, and the Thai Silk Company provided silks for the costumes, and did so again when the Hollywood version was filmed in 1956.

Features in Vogue and the box office success of the musical helped bring international recognition to the Thai Silk Company, which by 1957 was reporting sales of $650,000 per year. While it made Jim a rich man, the majority of the equity was held by Thai investors or distributed to the weavers - some of whom became millionaires themselves.

The growth of the business afforded Thompson the opportunity to design one last home in 1958: his own. That house is now a museum where visitors can learn more about Jim Thompson’s role in the silk industry, and see the beautifully appointed rooms (below). I would recommend it to any PS readers who visit Bangkok.

While Jim Thompson was building his business, King Bhumibol (above centre) had just commenced his seven decade reign of Thailand and married Sirikit Kitiyakara (above left).

The new Queen was a great champion of Thai silk, and would frequently wear garments made out of it. She even favoured mat mii (ikat) silk, which at that time was considered to be a fabric for poorer, rural women.

In 1960, the Royal couple embarked on an historic six-month tour of 15 western nations. The trip cemented Queen Sirikit’s status as a style icon with Time magazine describing her as “enchantingly elegant”.

The Queen’s meticulously planned wardrobe - over 150 pieces packed into custom-made Louis Vuitton trunks - delighted observers with the way it mixed western and Thai style, and brought further recognition to the beauty of Thai silk.

Many of these garments were made for her by Parisian couturier Pierre Balmain - the start of a fashion partnership that endured for over two decades.

Today the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles houses a wonderful collection of the various daywear, cocktail dresses and evening gowns she wore on that trip.

In 1976, the Queen established the Royal SUPPORT foundation with a dual aim of preserving traditional textile arts and crafts, and helping poorer communities (principally farmers whose income could be decimated by natural disasters) develop a supplementary income.

Similarly, in 1975, the James HW Thompson Foundation was founded to support “the conservation and dissemination of Thailand’s rich cultural heritage”.

And today, Jim Thompson’s now-eponymous luxury brand is a fully integrated silk manufacturing company, controlling each aspect of the process in the production of silk furnishings and clothes - the latter can be seen on the third season of The White Lotus (above).

As for the man himself, his story came to a mysterious end. In 1967, while holidaying with friends in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia, Thompson went for a walk and never returned.

As one of the most famous westerners in Asia at the time, his disappearance attracted global attention and sparked one of the largest ever manhunts in the region. Alongside the police, aboriginal tribesmen, clairvoyants, witch doctors and a psychic detective all offered to lend a hand.

As the search for evidence dwindled, a variety of increasingly wild theories proliferated. Tigers, money troubles (one biographer reports lavish spending on his art collection left Thompson with $50 to his name), and political abduction of the hitherto presumed former spy were all blamed - without any credible backing.

In 1974, after a statutory period of seven years, Thai courts declared Jim Thompson dead in absentia. By then, his legacy inextricably woven into the fabric of Thailand’s textile history.

Hand-framed cotton sweater

For a comprehensive treatment of Thai sericulture, I’d highly recommend this website which has a series of detailed pieces, including ones on where to buy Thai silk from.

The images of Queen Sirikit are copyright of the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles.

The PS Summer Wardrobe: A Care Guide

Posted on 18/07/202519/07/2025 by Manish Puri

We know the PS reader takes almost as much pleasure in caring for his clothes as he does wearing them. I said almost!

When we launch a new product therefore, we try to provide as much information as we can on how best to look after it. Sometimes, however, that’s not always easy to pinpoint among all the details on make, design and sizing.

So this article pulls together the care advice for the full range of our summer products, and we’ll do the same for the autumn/winter items closer to the season. This information will also live on the shop site from now on, as a constant source of reference.

We hope this helps you get the very best out of your PS clothes, and if you do have any specific questions please feel free to ask below.

Finest merino wool knitwear: Dartmoor, Finest Crewneck, Finest Polo

- If in doubt, these fine knits should be hand washed or dry cleaned. Hand washing is simple - just soak in warm water with a little detergent for half an hour or so, like the method in our video here.

- They can be washed in a machine, but use a delicate/wool cycle, cool/30 degrees, with minimal spin. Wool detergent is nice, but not required. You can also put the knit into a shirt bag or string bag, as is often used for delicates.

- Importantly, ironing is worth doing as it will remove any shrinkage that happens during the washing process. You can really stretch out the material and return it to its original size. The trick is to use a medium heat, with plenty of steam and pressure - the merino wool is tough and can take it.

- Dry on a rack, do not tumble dry. If hand washing, you might want to squeeze excess water out by rolling the knitwear in a towel (see video here).

- Given wool's odour-resistance, any of these pieces worn against the skin may be fine to wear for more than one day without washing.

- If in doubt, hand wash or dry clean. Hand washing is simple - just soak in warm water with a little detergent for half an hour or so - like the method in our video here.

- If you are used to washing knitwear in your machine, it can also be washed on a delicate/wool cycle, cool/30 degrees, with minimal spin.

- Dry on a rack, do not tumble dry.

Overshirts: Linen

- Best to dry clean when needed (we rarely do).

- They can be washed cool (30 degrees) and hung to dry, as with a fine linen shirt. However, it’s important to note that there will likely be some shrinkage (at least 2cm in sleeve length and body length, and a smaller amount in the width).

- Dry on a rack, do not tumble dry.

Overshirts: Suede

- For details on how to protect and care for suede jackets, see our video here, which will cover most wear.

- For heavy stains, you may need to seek out a specialist cleaner. In London, we’ve previously used The Valet and Ace of Suedes in north London is also very good.

Shirts: Ramie and Madras

- Care like a dress shirt: wash cool and hang dry

- No noticeable shrinkage

- Dry on a rack, do not tumble dry.

- The Madras can be ironed as normal, but not necessarily needed

Linen Harrington

- Dry clean only.

- A brush can also be used to remove surface dirt, and a damp sponge for small spot cleaning.

T-shirts: Tapered T-shirt and Undershirt

- Care like a dress shirt: wash cool and hang dry

- The Tapered T-shirt has little shrinkage (a centimetre in length and width at most), and the density of the material means it has a natural stretch that adapts to your body during the day, as denim can. You can give the shirt a slight stretch after washing too, to accelerate this.

- The Undershirt should have no shrinkage at all. However, if the neckline becomes misshapen, ironing is particularly useful to reassert it

Shorts

- Should be washed cool, at 30 degrees, and hung to dry before ironing.

The seasonal article running through things coming up in the Autumn will be published in early August

The Decorum by Kamoshita: Review

Posted on 30/06/202527/06/2025 by Manish Puri

Monday, June 30^th 2025Tags:

There’s an aversion to hyperbole here at Permanent Style. So, when I say that, having visited Bangkok earlier this year, I think The Decorum might just be the most exciting menswear retail hub in the world right now, it’s not a statement made lightly.

Just take a look at the list of brands their customers have been able to directly engage with over the past several months: Edward Green, Husband’s Paris, Bode, Bryceland’s, Minezo, Assisi, J. Mueser and Permanent Style, to name a few.

Given the success of their trunk show programme, it’s easy to view The Decorum as solely a marketplace for other brands, and overlook their in-house label, The Decorum Continuum - which is now in its second season of collaborating with Yasuto Kamoshita (below). That oversight, while understandable, would be a shame.

In London this week, The Decorum will be presenting and selling their Kamoshita Spring/Summer collection at a trunk show hosted by Trunk Clothiers in London (3rd - 5th July).

The choice of venue feels like a homecoming of sorts, given Trunk was one of the few places in the UK where you could buy the Camoshita United Arrows brand before it ceased wholesale distribution in Europe.

As Mats Klingberg of Trunk told me, “It’s refreshing and lovely to have [Kamoshita’s clothing] back in the shop.” On The Decorum he added, “I’ve been going to Bangkok for many years, and tourists don’t often get to appreciate the amazing retail scene, so it’ll be nice for our customers to see a different side of the city”.

Having tried some of the Kamoshita collection in Thailand myself, I thought it would be helpful to offer my take on the pieces for our London readers, ahead of The Decorum’s trunk show. For anyone that can’t attend in person, you can buy these items online. The prices shown in the article are for the trunk show, which may differ slightly from those online.

The collection is surprisingly broad with over 40 pieces including zip jackets, terry polos, Hawaiian shirts, popovers, boat neck t-shirts and scarves. However, for this article, I’ve focused on the more tailored items. Although across the collection, there is a consistent emphasis on soft, tactile cloth in a mix of muted and classic colours.

I’ve found most items to be true-to-size, which in my case is medium/size 50. Understandably, the clothes are aimed at the Asian market, which means the biggest sizes top out at XL and 52. I’ve spoken to Guy at Decorum and they’re planning on expanding the size range over time, using feedback from events such as this trunk show to guide them - so do let them know if you’d like to see something in a bigger size.

There’s always a healthy level of reader discussion whenever we post about jacket-alternatives. Given that appetite, the first piece I’d highlight is the Stand Collar Jacket (£400) - an Asian-inspired style I’ve been increasingly drawn to since my trip to Thailand.

It’s a clean look that offers the suggestion of a popped collar without looking too vampiric. And, while I think the more common point collar chore coat is more versatile, this is a lovely alternative.

The jacket is made from a 50% linen and 50% ramie blend which gives it a dry, subtly gauze-like finish which softens with wear.

The fit of the medium is absolutely perfect on me…almost too perfect. To the extent that it could be confused for a shirt - nothing that sizing up for extra slouch won’t resolve, of course.

That said, I think wearing it as if it were a shirt - almost fully buttoned - is also a nice way to style it, as you can see on Guy in the white jacket (above).

Readers looking for something a little less minimalist might want to try the Mandarin overshirt (£440), which is the same fit as the Stand jacket but made from check-patterned cloth and finished with a Chinese frog closure.

The Retro 50s Shacket (£400, above) will be of particular interest to those readers who (like me) coveted the vintage ‘Ricky’ jacket worn by Simon at Pitti two summers ago. As mentioned in his article, these types of jackets are often reproduced, and there was even an aborted attempt to create a PS model - we just couldn’t find the right cloth.

So, you’ll be happy to hear that I think The Decorum version is the closest (and best) one I’ve seen since. The colour (lavender) is good, slightly more silvery than Simon’s - which I think makes it less Cali-summer-day and more Cali-summer-night.

The cloth is fascinating; it has a silkiness and lustre to it that you’d associate with rayon, but it’s actually a linen-cotton blend woven into a dense satin and finished with a thin resin to enhance the softness. It’s a terrific choice, and feels cooler to wear than rayon.

The Shacket is described as cropped, and the size 50 has a back length of 68cm. While that’s not long, it’s also not short by vintage standards. By comparison, Simon’s ‘Ricky’ jacket is 61cm, and the similarly proportioned Adret Jack bomber is 64cm.

The Shacket’s extra length isn’t an issue per se, but it’s worth knowing in case you were expecting it to finish at the hips. The Shacket is also one of the few items in the Decorum collection where I think I could possibly size down to a 48, which would shorten it by an inch (or 2.5cm).

The only detail I’m not entirely sold on is the elasticated hem, which doesn’t have quite enough tension to cinch the jacket into the waist when buttoned up.

Again, this isn’t an issue necessarily, but without the functional benefit of the elastic my preference would have been for a cleaner finish to the hem.

That reservation aside, it’s a lovely jacket for smartening up a casual look. For readers unsure about the colour, have a look at my article on wearing pink. If you remain unconvinced, it’s also available in a less bold steely mid-grey or navy.

That blend of grey and blue is also a feature of my favourite item in the collection - the double breasted jacket (£820) in a 4 x 1 configuration.

Once again, the cloth is a lightweight Japanese linen-cotton mix, with a soft matte finish that’s fooled more than one person into thinking it was Art du Lin whenever I’ve worn it.

It’s impossible to try these garments without imagining how Kamoshita-san might wear them, and here (even though it’s not my natural instinct) I think the soft construction of the DB and the low button point works really well with a t-shirt - knitted or otherwise. In the photo above, the cobalt blue jacket is worn with a white/grey boat neck Breton tee (£120).

However, the mix of blue and grey in the dark grey colourway is so striking and chic that I think the jacket also works really well in a formal setting.

At the recent summer Pitti, I was invited to a party with that most dreaded of dress codes: black-tie creative. I took a punt and paired this jacket with the black trousers from my La Bowtique MTM suit, and (as you can clearly see on my face above) was delighted with the resulting combination.

The size 50 is a superb fit for me. The only alteration I’ve made (or, more accurately, begged my ever-patient girlfriend to make) was to shorten the sleeves by 6cm - which didn’t prove too difficult as the jacket comes without any buttonholes, so you can adjust the length from the cuff and then add buttons and holes as preferred.

I liked the DB so much that I wanted to get the matching trousers in the classic cut (£270, above), which seems quite typical of the style Kamoshita-san usually wears: mid-rise, straight through the hips and then a slight taper to the calf.

The size 50 fit me just fine, and will probably be great for a lot of readers, but they were a touch too slim for my current tastes.

In days gone by, hellbent on the need to have the full suit, I would have bought them regardless, felt a bit uncomfortable whenever I wore them, and then berated myself for knowing better. The fact that I tried them and decided they weren’t for me is growth, ladies and gentlemen.

However, before you’re overwhelmed with sympathy for my shattered dreams, I should add that I also tried the wide trousers (£280) and loved them. There are some nice colour options available (including the seersucker, above), and I got a pair in navy.

Made from the same 50% linen and 50% ramie blend as the stand jacket, they’re exactly the sort of trousers I’d suggest to a reader when they ask: How can I wear navy trousers?

The fit of the size 50 was perfect, with (crucially for me) enough room in the fork to make them very comfortable. The only alteration I’ve had to make was to finish the hem, which (to give you an indication of width) has a leg opening of 24.5cm compared to the classic’s 21cm.

I’ve worn my navy trousers casually with a T-shirt, with minimal discomfort in the sweltering Florentine heat. And, I’ve also paired them with the dark grey DB jacket (above) to create a tonal look that I think epitomises what modern tailoring, and this collection, is all about: relaxed, easy and elegant.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

The Decorum trunk show will be held on Thursday, 3rd July - Saturday, 5th July at Trunk Clothiers, 8 Chiltern Street, London W1U 7PU.

Photo on stairs courtesy of Su Shan Leong. Photo below courtesy of Chase Winfrey.

A guide to knitted T-shirts

Posted on 13/06/202514/11/2025 by Manish Puri

A guide to knitted T-shirts

Friday, June 13^th 2025Tags:

132 Comments

The Anthology knitted T-shirt ($120)

The only suit you’ll ever need. Five hacks to up your style game. The ultimate summer wardrobe cheat code.

These are headlines you’re unlikely to ever see on Permanent Style - and if you do it probably means Hell has finally been able to open that ski resort.

The promise of one-size-fits-all fixes just isn’t the way we like to play the game. Because, to quote Denzel Washington’s magnificently malevolent Alonzo Harris in Training Day: This shit’s chess. It ain’t checkers.

Developing your style and wardrobe is about more than just trying to bluff your way to a quick fire checkmate. It’s about relishing the mid-game: evaluating the board, considering the permutations, and then assiduously building your position to one of such strength that the outcome becomes inevitable.

But, everyone has to start somewhere. Every player needs a solid opening.

In a starter wardrobe, that might translate to an upgrade of a basic - elevating the quality, fit or style of something like the humble T-shirt, which, while perfectly fine in its simplest form, can be harder to pair with a more tailored wardrobe.

These days there’s no shortage of options here. For the sake of brevity, I’ll refer to them in this guide as knitted T-shirts, but that’s something of a misnomer, because even the cheapest T-shirts are often jersey knits.

In this instance (and I think it’s fair to say, often across the industry) the term is shorthand for T-shirts that are made more like a quality sweater than a cheap sweatshirt. In other words they are:

- Fully-fashioned rather than cut-and-sewn, so each panel is individually knitted and linked together, rather than being cut out of a single larger piece of fabric before being sewn together.

- Finished at the edges with ribbing which allows some stretch (permitting a closer neckline that you can still get over your head) while ensuring it holds its shape on the biceps and waist.

- Made from higher grade cotton and other finer materials.

You can read more about why some of these attributes are desirable in Simon’s article about knitted, fully-fashioned T-shirts. And, more specifically, why they can be helpful in relation to tailoring here.

For now, let’s press on with a survey of the best out there. As always, I know the readership will have a wider set of recommendations than we could ever hope to include, so please do spill the tee in the comments section.

When searching for an all-rounder knitted T-shirt, it’s hard to look beyond The Anthology’s offering.

It’s been one of their staple products for some time (which means it’s benefitted from minor refinements, such as an increase in length, over the years), it’s fairly priced and is available in more colours than any other brand in this guide - 11 at last count, including two nautical stripes.

They’re made from a soft organic cotton that’s a little thicker and heavier than the Rubato Nonpareil T-shirt (covered later) or the new Bryceland’s Skipper Tee (£189). This lends The Anthology knit a slightly more casual air, and the additional sturdiness of the cotton also means it doesn’t need to be handled quite so delicately when laundering.

Of course, these statements need to be considered within the narrow context of this guide; compared to a High Street jersey T-shirt, The Anthology knit is still very smart, and works as well with tailoring (above) as it does with jeans (below).

In terms of fit, I size up to an Anthology large - which is almost identical in fit to my medium Rubato tee.

The only noticeable difference is the sleeve length, with The Anthology’s measuring a full centimetre longer. Ok, that’s only really “noticeable” by the forensic standard of these guides, and a non-factor when worn under a layer, but I know some readers will appreciate the heads up.

A final commendation to The Anthology for the styling inspiration found on their website.

The product page of each T-shirt showcases at least three or four entirely different ensembles - running the gamut from beach-casual to office-appropriate.

This should help stimulate ideas on how readers can wear them, and are especially helpful for the more unusual colours like rust (above) and mustard.

Nicola Radano Posidonia open-knit tee (€180)

Knitted tops have been synonymous with Italian style since the end of WWII, so it’s only right that I include at least one Italian brand in this guide.

My choice is the Posidonia tee from Nicola Radano, a Neapolitan brand whose crochet knit polo I’ve been wearing a lot recently - the waffly finish aiding breathability and adding texture.

The vertical open-weave strips of the Posidonia perform a similar function, which makes it a nice alternative to the plainer tees in this guide - perfect for someone who already has a few knits and is looking for something more distinctive.

The medium works perfectly for me. Compared to the same size from The Anthology and Rubato, the Posidonia is a bit slimmer in the chest (by 2-4cm across the half-chest measurement), but is also straighter through the body, so it’s a good option for those that prefer the proportions of a regular tee over the more exaggerated full chest-trim waist variety.

The Posidonia is also longer than those tees by 4-6cm, and that length is allowed full expression as it’s not funnelled into the waist by a tight hem.

This makes it ideal for two extremes of reader: those who want to bring a looser, longer untucked energy to their summer looks, and those who like to be able to tuck their T-shirts into their trousers. (You can do the latter with The Anthology and Rubato too, but you’ll need a higher rise).

The cotton is from Zegna’s Baruffa collection, and I have to say it feels absolutely wonderful against the skin. To my hand, it’s the softest of the cotton tees in this guide, without feeling too fine or thin.

As you’d expect from a brand whose tagline is “funky elegance”, Nicola Radano’s colour options are a bit more adventurous, but each is tempered by a sunbleached feel - think bright beach towel left behind on a deck chair in Sorrento.

The denim (above) is the sort of colour I’d advise a reader to try when they ask what they can pair with navy chinos and shorts.

Batoner High Count Linen Short Sleeve Sweater (£195)

Batoner is a Japanese brand that began life as a knitwear company before expanding into other wardrobe pieces. However, their reputation for quality knitwear remains and Simon himself has recommended them to me previously.

The High Count Short Sleeve (there’s also a long sleeve option) has been around for a few seasons, which again affords Batoner the opportunity to refine and improve it over time. This year, they’ve changed the gauge number to improve durability, and as a result the Batoner is one of the heavier T-shirts in the guide - but it’s still very breathable.

As is often the case with knitted linen, it doesn’t feel quite as cool to the touch as the woven variety (used for tailoring), and the knitting process helps draw out the texture - the Batoner has a dry, crunchy handle (even more so than the high twist Rubato Nonpareil).

In terms of sizing, the boxfresh chest fit of the size 2 is comparable to most other mediums. However, the body length is longer, similar to the Nicola Radano knit, and so has the same benefits when it comes to wearing it tucked in and untucked.

The Batoner is also wider in the shoulders with a slightly longer sleeve length. The combined impact of this is clear in the product shot above from stockist Trunk Clothiers (model is 6'1" with a chest of 38.5” wearing a size 2) - the shoulder seam sits just past the shoulders and the sleeve finishes after the bicep.

The tee also tends to stretch and lose a bit of shape during wear - which I’ve found isn’t unusual for linen tees - but will mostly shrink back when washed. However, given this natural stretch alongside the fit through the shoulders, readers might want to consider sizing down if they prefer a neater silhouette.

The Batoner collar is particularly nice - high and chunky like a sweater. The rib’s depth is 3cm which makes it the thickest in the guide alongside Rubato’s.

The colour choices (there are two stocked by Trunk and four on Batoner’s website) are the most conservative of any of the brands in the guide, essentially variants of grey, blue and black. However, Simon has one in grey which he said had a “beautiful, Armani-esque marl” to it.

There are some brighter colours available in Batoner’s other knit tee models - one made from Sea Island cotton and the other (rather fascinatingly) made from a Japanese washi paper and rayon mix.

Rubato Nonpareil T-shirt (£290)

The thing I noticed most when I received my first Rubato T-shirt was the neck opening. Measuring 11cm at its widest point (in comparison, my Uniqlo T-shirts measure 17.5cm), it appeared comically small.

And yet that neckline has proved to be one of my favourite features of the T-shirt. The cotton - a really lovely crisp, cool high-twist - offers enough stretch to pass over the head, and enough resistance to snap the ribbed neckline back into place.

The result is a T-shirt that feels as neatly fitted as a mock neck with the comfort of, well, a T-shirt.

And it’s that flattering closer, higher neckline combined with the finer cotton which makes this my preferred knitted T-shirt to wear with smart tailoring (above).

However, I also think the Nonpareil knits shine as part of the very simplest smart casual combinations - a T-shirt paired with just trousers or shorts (below).

The quality of the cotton and the higher neck help of course, but there are a couple of additional points of visual interest.

The first is the addition of a chest pocket on the left hand side - a nod to 50/60s styling, with the functional benefit of being big enough to hold a pair of sunglasses.

The second is the ribbing on the hem, sleeves and neck. Now, most knit T-shirts are ribbed, but the Rubato ribs are just a little bit meatier. Once again, it’s not a significant difference - they’re deeper by 1cm at most (or 15-20%) - but it’s these small details that add character and elevate the T-shirt when worn solo.

I’d also add that Rubato’s Marin colourway (top) is one of the best blues I’ve seen - dark enough to co-ordinate with a navy suit, but with a twinkle of indigo to stop it from looking too flat and sombre.

Connolly Cashmere & Silk T-shirt (£495)

Unsurprisingly for a garment made from 70% cashmere and 30% silk, the Connolly T-shirt feels great with a light, soft handle.

Given the lightness of the material, it also makes a good base layer, and is particularly nice for travelling - a touch of luxury and comfort that can mingle unnoticed with more casual travel gear.

While the Connolly T-shirt is true to size, it is slimmer than most of the other brands in this guide, with measurements that are probably most similar to the Posidonia knit - closer through the chest and less taper into the waist.

The sleeves are a bit slimmer too - although not to the point of restriction - and they’re finished with a shallower ribbing, which makes them look a little less vintage-inspired.

The colour choices are excellent. I think the mink (top) is very chic. And, perhaps because it’s a unisex offering, there are some bolder options - which is always welcome. My favourite, which won’t come as much of a surprise to anyone that’s read my article on pink, is the mauve (above).

I know some readers may question wearing a garment made primarily from cashmere in the summer. However, Connolly uses a very fine, light cashmere here, and (more generally) cashmere is very breathable and adept at moisture wicking. That said, we did find it slightly warmer than some of the cottons.

Honourable mentions

While I think The Anthology T-shirt represents excellent value for the quality, I know some readers would prefer a cheaper option. For them I would suggest taking a look at Arket (£47).

Of course, one can’t discuss Italian (or Italian-American) inspired knitwear without a shoutout to Scott Fraser Collection who carry an extensive selection. For crew neck tees, have a look at their Chet knit (£230) (above) and Net knit (£135), but be warned these models are more cropped than any other T-shirt in this guide.

For more non-cotton options, I’d suggest Colhay’s sport shirt (£230) (above) which is made from a merino wool from Zegna’s Baruffa Cashwool collection, and is a little thicker than the John Smedley wool. Currently only a few larger sizes are available (and I’d recommend sizing up to readers), but I’ve been told there will be a restock of select colours in July.

Thom Sweeney carries a very similar, 70/30 cashmere/silk T-shirt (£495) to Connolly. The main difference is size (the Thom Sweeney is slimmer, so I’d recommend sizing up) and the sleeve ribbing (Thom Sweeney’s is about 1cm thicker).

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram.

My first bespoke overcoat

Posted on 30/05/202529/05/2025 by Manish Puri

Friday, May 30^th 2025Tags:

Spring is well and truly here in London.

I’ve just returned from a stroll through my local green which was fizzing with people enjoying cold beers and iced coffees. Through the window I can see my neighbour scraping last year’s chargrilled residue from his barbeque, and from the way he’s mopping his brow I suspect he’s cursing himself for not doing this before putting it into hibernation.

The theme for Match of the Day pierces the air as an ice cream van rounds the corner. The Pavlovian lure of the bells is strong, and before the chime has ended a small queue of eager children has formed to buy ice creams as big as their heads.

So, naturally I’m here to tell you about my bespoke winter overcoat.

It’s a special one for me in a number of ways - not least because it’s my first ever bespoke overcoat commission, made by the lovely team at Whitcomb & Shaftesbury.

I’ll save a more detailed review of the coat for a future article.

Today, given this was my first such commission, I thought it might be helpful to talk readers through my process in deciding what to go for, as well as the process with Whitcomb.

So why Whitcomb & Shaftesbury? Well, a few reasons actually.

First, I’ve always admired the coat wardrobe of my fellow PS columnist Aleks Cvetkovic, and one of his best - an Ulster coat in rich chocolatey Donegal tweed (above) - was made by Whitcomb & Shaftesbury. When it comes to making serious clothing decisions, nothing beats seeing a garment first hand, or getting some trusted advice.

Secondly, Simon has long praised Whitcomb & Shaftesbury for their consistent delivery of “quality and value”, and having received and worn my coat over the last few months it’s been a joy to read about his visit to the Chennai workshop and the tailors who work so hard to maintain those levels (below).

Finally, I’d had the good fortune to meet Suresh (co-founder - below with Simon) and Sian (head cutter) socially, and found them to be lovely, easygoing people. Of course, this doesn’t qualify you as a master tailor (I’m sure many a nice suit has been cut by utter bastards), but I think life’s too short (and the bespoke process too long) to work with people whose company you don’t enjoy.

The choice of colour was something I grappled with for some time, a conundrum verging on the philosophical: to be (a little unusual), or not to be (a little unusual).

Were a sartorial apocalypse to ravage all our wardrobes tomorrow - a simultaneously terrifying and liberating prospect - I’d unhesitatingly advise myself and readers to get a navy DB overcoat in heavy wool to stay warm and comforted in the bleak aftermath. Something like Simon’s B&Tailor coat (below) will do very nicely indeed, thank you very much.

The problem is I currently have a navy DB overcoat, two actually - one sharp and one a more relaxed belted model. And I like them both…a lot.

So, do I opt to upgrade something from good to great? Or do I cast my gaze wider, at the sort of coat that one covets and bookmarks on Instagram, but when push-comes-to-shove (or card-comes-to-tap) is always jilted in favour of a more versatile and conservative model?

I don’t really think there’s a correct answer to these questions; a lot will depend on one’s outlook - not just on clothes, but on spending money in general. However, I do think one useful way to think about it is as an interplay between risk and reward.

The commission of a bespoke navy overcoat would be substantially less risky, but the reward perhaps isn’t quite as rich given the number of similar, quality RTW/MTM/vintage options available. In contrast, while a more unusual colour carries more risk, if you get it right the reward is potentially greater - amplified by the relative paucity of similar options on the market.

Clearly I chose the more unusual option, a pale taupe cashmere, and I’ll talk about the colour and cloth more in the review article.

By now I’m fairly well practised at commissioning MTM/bespoke suits and jackets - to the extent that I wrote a couple of articles last year on some of the lessons I’ve learned.

I thought that experience would be adequate preparation for commissioning an overcoat. I was wrong.

This is partly just a numbers game. Even a relative tailoring novice will have tried a few different sports coats and suits over the years, but they’re unlikely to have an equivalent volume of experience with coats. How can you truly know if you prefer patch pockets (above) or postbox pockets (below), when your only winter coat has side entry pockets?

This isn’t purely a rhetorical question. I genuinely struggled with the choice of pockets over a couple of fittings - flip-flopping between the options. It was here that Suresh and Sian’s experience came to the fore, patiently shepherding me toward a decision.

Their advice, only proffered when I’d been through more flip-flops than an Australian backpacker, was to consider the pleasing form of the postbox against the function of patch pockets - which tend to be a little easier to get your hands and other winter accessories in and out of.

With that in mind, I tried on a display coat with patch pockets, instinctively thrust my hands into them, and immediately realised I should opt for the more functional choice.

In a similar vein, while the fundamentals of fit and balance are largely the same as a jacket, there are just a lot more elements to consider with a coat - and those elements combined can have a dramatic impact on the style, fit and even the nature of the coat itself.

Take the lapels of a coat. The questions posed by the tailor - on width, length, belly, gorge - will be familiar to anyone that has experience commissioning clothes, but the scale (and hence the potential margin for error) is that much bigger.

Or how about the buttoning point? Across an entire range of DB jackets, you might lower and raise the buttoning point by a couple of inches at the most. Whereas on different DB coats you could conceivably move the buttoning point from the bottom of your breastbone down to your hips. Or lose the buttons altogether!

Don’t let my cheesy grin fool you, shorn of buttons and hip pockets, it was very tricky to gauge what felt like a natural buttoning point at the first fitting (above) - and Suresh noted that the straight edge of the coat wouldn’t seem as long when those elements were later added.

However, the collective view was that it could stand to be lowered. And, sensing my uncertainty, Suresh also suggested an unscheduled interim fitting a few days later - a chance for me to see the new buttoning point before forging ahead.

It was an excellent idea, and the type of modest and unhurried evolution that is only really possible when making bespoke clothes using a local tailor. (And I think it helped get the balance just right - below).

Finally, solid advice for a normal person looking to commission a first-time bespoke coat would be to start now, allowing yourself at least four months before you’re likely to need it. However, if you’re not the sharpest of shears, why not commence the process in October, like I did?

Jokes aside, my tardiness did unwittingly help with some of the design decisions, as I’d attend fittings wearing coats and winter clothes, unwittingly giving Sian visual cues that she quietly used to hone the style - in particular, noting that I prefer my coats longer. It also gave us both the opportunity to see how the different iterations of the coat looked over the clothes that I’d ultimately wear it with.

It’s not a master plan I’d recommend to readers, but it clearly had its advantages. Besides, with care, a merciless crusade against any moth that crosses my hearth, and a calorie-controlled diet, this coat should last for many many years to come, so there’s no sense in fretting about losing half a season of wear because I missed the optimal commissioning date in the annual bespoke cycle.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram.

Photos of me in Florence by @adnatt.

Other clothes shown:

- Taillour DB suit in Fox Brothers Heritage Flannel chalkstripe

- Bryceland's MTM shirt

- Speciale Tie

- Nichols London leather tote

Should I stay or should they go?

Posted on 14/05/202503/11/2025 by Manish Puri

In the TV show Mad Men, there’s a great scene where Don Draper, growing tired of a client who is reluctant to follow his professional advice, feigns to end their meeting.

“Listen, I'm not here to tell you about Jesus,” says Don. “You already know about Jesus. He either lives in your heart or he doesn't.”

Which is to say that many of you have probably already made up your mind about the subject of today’s article: shirt stays. They’re either in your heart or they’re not.

If it’s the latter, I sympathise. They are a faintly ridiculous looking item, and (in British culture at least) seem to epitomise the guy that’s the butt of the joke in old Carry On films: weedy, seedy and hapless.

But I can’t think of many functional items that are so harshly judged by their form, because by golly do these things work as advertised.

But let’s just take a step back for a second, as there may well be some readers who have no idea what the heck shirt stays even are.

Originating in America in the late 1800s, shirt stays are elasticated bands with clips on either end that connect your shirt hem to your socks; their purpose, to anchor your shirt firmly in place as you go about your day.

Like many of its detractors, I’d never actually tried shirt stays before, but when I collected my La Bowtique dinner suit from Mickael (who wears stays daily), he gave me a pair made by Sharp & Dapper and insisted I try them when I debuted my tuxedo.

It didn't take too long to find the knack to attaching them and getting the right tension in the length, but in the beginning I did have to enlist the help of my girlfriend - who to my utter delight seemed to enjoy the process. She’s a keeper.

Once attached, the stays ensured that my shirt at the end of the night looked much as it did at the beginning.

Another benefit, which I don't think is mentioned enough, is how well the stays control relaxed fit shirts, doing a great job of drawing the fullness into the waist in smooth and even lines.

Now, I know some of you will say that a bespoke shirt and bespoke trousers (perhaps with the rubber grips sewn into the waistband) should obviate the need for stays, and to an extent I’d agree. But in my experience there are still minor adjustments and re-tucking of the shirt that takes place during wear - often completely unconsciously, and often after bathroom breaks.

And, of course, looking neat and tidy isn’t just the preserve of bespoke wearers. As Johan Ekelund (above) explains in the circumstances that led him to found the brand in 2011:

“In 2008 I was working behind a nice bar where staff were required to look smart, but during a shift I’d be twisting in every direction - reaching up, bending over - and my shirt would keep coming untucked. So, while I was searching for braces on eBay I came across a pair of shirt stays. I bought them to try, wore them on a shift and never looked back. It was a lightbulb moment.”

On mass-market RTW shirts, Johan (who makes each pair of shirt stays himself in London) adds: “Longer shirt tails can help keep things in place, but they’re getting harder to find in the RTW market. If a manufacturer wants to save money, one of the easiest ways to do that is to reduce fabric costs by cutting down the length.”

Given my first experience with shirt stays was under my dinner suit, I also asked Mickael of La Bowtique if they’re really necessary for black tie.

After all, if you’re wearing a cummerbund or a buttoned-up jacket, there’s not that much of the shirt actually on show. His response was a good one, which is that if the shirt does start to untuck it’ll often go the only place it can, which is to puff away from the chest - which can also interfere with your bow tie.

I’ve subsequently worn the stays a few times with other tailoring, and you do forget you’re wearing them - which can actually be problematic. I clipped them on during Pitti in January, promptly forgot they were on and went into a shop to try on some pyjamas.

I spent several panicky minutes in the changing rooms detaching and reattaching them, trying desperately to remember what the Italian for “just a moment, please” was. Goodness only knows what was going through the poor shopkeeper’s mind.

Otherwise, the only reminder they’re on comes when I bend over and can feel the gentle strain of the elastic. But, as a middle aged man I’m accustomed to feeling something tight whenever I bend, so this isn’t an alien sensation.

Shirt stays are unlikely to become part of my daily routine. It’s not a case of them being fiddly - I make a stovetop coffee every morning, and goodness knows there are easier ways of fixing a caffeine hit. It’s just about personal priorities - we all draw our own lines of what’s essential to our routine, and what’s not.

However, for black tie nights and other special occasions where I want to present myself absolutely pristinely, they will definitely stay in my arsenal. And I would happily recommend them to readers, while fully acknowledging they won’t be for everyone.

“I realise it’s a polarising product,” says Johan. “But they’re effective, affordable, and a bit of fun. I used to promote them at events by wearing them without my trousers. In fact, one night I went trouserless straight from an event to pick someone up for a first date. It must have worked, we’re married now.”

Shirt stays are available on the Sharp & Dapper website or in person at the La Bowtique showroom.

Photos by Alex Natt. Other photos courtesy of Sharp & Dapper.

La Bowtique: The Accessories

Posted on 18/04/202518/05/2025 by Manish Puri

At the end of 2024 I received and reviewed an MTM dinner suit commission from Mickael at La Bowtique. The one-line summary was that, on a like-for-like basis (ie comparing this first commission to other first makes), I’d rank La Bowtique among the better MTM tailors I’ve tried.

To complete the set I also picked up a shirt and a few accessories they offered, and thought a run-through of some of them would be helpful to PS readers. Let’s start with the single most important: the bow tie.

As my dinner suit was a classic one-button peak lapel SB, it was a nice canvas to try different shapes against. And since Simon’s introductory article in 2021, the range of styles offered by La Bowtique (who make the best bow ties I've tried) has expanded considerably. Here we took pictures of three of my favourites.

The first option we tried was the medium Diamond, which Mickael describes as one of his most vintage designs, redolent of 1940s Hollywood.

Clearly it would work well with vintage tailoring, which is where I would recommend any readers looking for evening wear on a budget start their search. Mickael also thinks it pairs particularly well with an off-white/ivory jacket.

It’s a slightly whimsical style, or in Mickael’s words: “A sharp look, which people will think you made a very conscious decision to choose.” I thought it looked good with the suit, and I liked how distinctive it was. However, in this particular case, maybe a touch small given the width of the lapels.

The second bow tie is the Brandon - one of La Bowtique’s most design-led models. The majority of Mickael’s ties are roughly the same width, but the Brandon is wider (you can see it rests on my lapels), pretty straight across the top and has full wings. All of which combine to make it a bigger tie that perhaps suits the taller or broader gentleman.

The tie oozes 1970s flair - the sort of thing one might have worn with a pair of tinted oversized spectacles to a New Year’s Eve party at Studio 54. This is an unwittingly apt analogy as the design was initially created for one of Mickael’s New York customers Brandon Mitchell (who I spoke to for my article on Dunhill Tailors) to go with his superb 1976 Tommy Nutter suit.

It’s clearly a statement piece, but these days that seems true of any type of formalwear. Mickael contends that “it’s not as bold as people think when they only see a picture”. Having tried it on, I’d agree with that, and I can see it being a great addition to the right suit, or a second tie for people that attend a lot of black tie events. A similar, but toned-down option for readers would be the Laurent or the small Laurent.

However, I wanted something a bit more classic, which brings me to the third bow tie (and the one I took home): the Crompton, named after you-know-who. You can read Simon’s thoughts on the model - which was originally a bespoke design for him - here.

It’s a medium dropped bow tie, i.e. the bottom half of the bow is longer than the top. Out of the approximately dozen styles offered, this is La Bowtique’s best-seller, which Mickael thinks is because it hits a sweet spot of “classic, but a bit different”.

Not as dominating as the Brandon or a large dropped; but a shade more unusual than the symmetrical medium classic. I felt it worked the best with the style of the suit, and perhaps my own sartorial ambitions - classic, but a bit different isn’t a bad style philosophy.

I mentioned in my review of the suit that the shirt was the one area which didn’t work out the way we’d hoped. In fact, Mickael was more frustrated than me - and it can be refreshing when a tailor just acknowledges an issue, rather than try to ‘manage’ the situation.

The shirt itself was good. It's quite full in the body - you might recall Mickael cautioned against making black tie garments too form-fitting as there's a good chance you'll overheat - and has a healthy collar that will work with all but the most oversized bow ties. I liked the amount of spread in the collar too: not splayed too wide (which I'm generally not a fan of), but enough space for the knot of the tie to nestle into.

However, you can see that the pleats, even after being painstakingly individually pressed, just refused to stay flat, and would instantly pucker and dimple to look like seersucker.

What caused the problem is somewhat unknown. It could be the cloth, insufficient pressing as the pleats were sewn, the stitching being too tight, or maybe some combination of all three.

It’s a shame because Mickael was keen for me to try a proper hand-pleated shirt - a real labour of love. He’s going to make a replacement, and this time we’re going for a slightly wider 0.5” pleat (as opposed to the 0.25” above) to see if that helps.

I’m happy to pop back and provide an update on how that fares. However, for now, my experience hasn’t done much to change my personal view that a Marcella front is an altogether cleaner and lower maintenance option.

As my jacket was single-breasted, I also took the opportunity to get a cummerbund from Mickael. Essentially you have one decision to make: Do you want five pleats and a straighter edge? Or four pleats and a rounder edge?

While the height of both cummerbunds is the same (14cm), the four pleat/rounded shape has a fuller appearance, which perhaps works better for taller customers and in combination with some of the bolder bow ties.

La Bowtique’s design also has a handy loop on the inside front of the cummerbund which slides over the waistband closure of your trousers, and helps to keep it anchored to a central position.

I also picked up some silk socks from Mickael which feel nice, but are more sheer than anything I've worn previously. As long as my leg hair isn't too visible (which it wasn't) it's not an issue for me, but one reader did comment that he felt it drew too much attention to the ankles, which I can understand. The other silk socks I've tried are Gammarelli (via Mes Chausette Rouges) which are more opaque.

By the way, the opera pumps on my feet are Bowhill & Elliott, which I borrowed from Mickael for the photos. In the next couple of weeks, La Bowtique plan to have a full size run of the B&E patent pumps available, so customers can try them for size and order directly.

The decision about whether to go for an Oxford shoe or an opera pump is a personal one. My argument in favour of pumps is that the chance to wear black tie comes round infrequently enough. And so, within the bounds of classical styling, I try to grasp the opportunity to push the envelope, the button and the boat out. That means studs, silk socks and opera pumps. By comparison, a polished Oxford (as undeniably elegant as it is) seems relatively prosaic.

The option to buy shoes from La Bowtique means the only black-tie-related item you can't get from them is jewellery (studs, cufflinks, etc); this expansion is welcome. For the uninitiated, a black-tie debut can be daunting enough without having to scour the four corners of the internet for the various elements.

However, as I noted in my suit review, the very best thing that Mickael offers costumers is his experience, knowledge and enthusiasm for evening wear.

La Bowtique can be contacted on WhatsApp at +44 7572 869286

Photos by Alex Natt

Postcards from Thailand

Posted on 16/04/202517/11/2025 by Manish Puri

There’s a scene in Frasier where Niles is packing some clothes to keep at his girlfriend Daphne’s place, for the morning after the nights he stays over.

Daphne, becoming increasingly concerned that she doesn’t have enough spare room in her closet, asks: “Isn't there anything you can leave behind?”

“I don't see how, I have formal, semi-formal, deshabille, wet weather, cold weather, cloudy. I mean, if there's something here you find excessive, jump right in.”

I mention this because it was the first thing that came to my mind when Simon asked me to write about what I wore on my recent holiday to Thailand, where I was celebrating my girlfriend’s 40th birthday.

I’m a hopeless overpacker, Simon!

The problem is only magnified on warm weather trips, where the absence of coats and knitwear frees up precious weight allowance that I seem hellbent on filling with wispy cotton shirts and a variety of beige shorts, which are so similar it would require a scanning tunnelling microscope to distinguish them. (Don’t worry, I pack one of those too.)

But, perhaps my weakness in this area presents an opportunity? A chance for me to reflect on what I wore the most and what stayed untouched in the case. I hope the exercise proves helpful to readers too, and by reading this you are now personally responsible for holding me to account should you ever encounter me at the airport trying to flirt my way out of excess baggage fees.

The above outfit is what I wore on the first full day in Bangkok, and it’s one I returned to again and again over the course of the trip.

The shirt is the Bigman from The Anthology (size large, off-white). Long-time readers will know that I’ve been a customer of the brand since their first UK pop-up with Permanent Style back in 2019, and I think the Bigman is one of their best RTW designs.

The chest pockets are ideal for carrying a phone, sunglasses and a tub of ya-dom (a herbal inhaler beloved by Thai people). Cash remains king in Thailand, and given I’ve long abandoned the billfold wallet in favour of a cardholder, the facility to button both pockets proved to be very useful for keeping my Baht safe.

Inspired by vintage workwear, the shirt is a straighter and fuller cut than their house style without ever feeling blousy. And the fabric, faithful to those origins, is a relatively sturdy linen/cotton blend.

To be frank, it was perhaps a touch heavy for the extremes of heat and humidity in Thailand. However, I continued to favour it over lighter shirts that were more tailored, which led me to a minor epiphany: if there’s a choice between a relaxed fit in a heavier cloth and a closer fit in a lighter one, I will pick the former.

Of course, the ideal garment would marry a relaxed fit with a lighter cloth - and I’d like to try that with this shirt using The Anthology’s MTO programme. But, I also fully appreciate that not everyone wants different weights and silhouettes for a holiday wardrobe, and will try to make do with the things they wear at home in the summer.

The realisation that I prioritise fit over fabric will certainly help me make better holiday selections in the future.

The trousers are the 5-pocket Swinger jean by LEJ, and are something of a departure for me. They’re made from a 10oz cotton sateen - which means they’re fairly light and much softer than denim jeans - with a camouflage print.

I picked them up after seeing the brand’s founder, Luke, wearing them. I convinced myself I could pull them off, and then (somewhat predictability) filed them in my wardrobe for 18 months. Ironically, given the print, the trousers stubbornly refused to blend into the background, and became a persistent reminder of my sartorial meekness.

However, as I mentioned in my article on Rondini sandals, I wanted to wear clothes that felt relevant to the places we were going in Thailand. The aim was to feel as at home in a cheesy backpacker bar (one of my favourite genres of bar) as I do wearing a suit and tie in a cocktail joint in London, and for me that meant trying a couple of new things.

After all, isn't travelling our opportunity to escape the quotidian? We meet new people, wrap our tongue around new words, savour new flavours and, if we’re lucky, feel something new stir within ourselves. Given how much we embrace novelty when we travel, why shouldn’t that extend to what we wear?

Now, I’m not for a second advocating that a group of men who are as particular about their clothes as we are stuff their suitcases with new and untested clobber. I can imagine few things more dispiriting than getting to your destination and feeling like you’ve got nothing nice to wear.

But, I will challenge readers to try one new thing on holiday. It's the perfect opportunity to experiment with a 'stimulating' shirt, a wide-leg trouser, a shorter short, a pair of sandals, a hat, a new colour. And please do report back on what's brought unexpected joy.

My camo trousers certainly fell into that category. A little fun, a fuss-free way to indulge my preference for trousers over shorts (which helped keep my shins bite-free), and still less punchy than the elephant print trousers sold to unsuspecting tourists who don't realise you can't wear shorts to the magnificent Buddhist temples.

The two green shirts in the photos above are also LEJ. You can read more about my and André’s view of the brand in this article we wrote in 2023, but shirts continue to be one of its strengths. They’re not just well-made, but also well-curated.

For example, an apparently conventional striped shirt might come in an offbeat colour or with a shadow stripe, and the summer cloths - typically a super-light (2.5oz - 4oz) cotton voile - have a silken handle that rests delicately on the body.

All of LEJ's shirts are relaxed in fit, and usually I take a medium - as I did in the sage green Officer's shirt. However, as I'm certain Morrissey once sang, some shirts are bigger than others.

In particular, their Come-Up-To-The Studio shirt is one of the more generously proportioned RTW shirts around. I sized down to a small in the striped shirt (above and below) without any noticeable loss of ease and comfort, and, to be honest, I think I could potentially wear an extra small without it looking tight.

Now, I don't want to give readers the impression that I spent the entire tropical holiday swanning around in full-sleeve shirts and trousers. I did wear shorts and T-shirts too.

I do have a tendency to pack too many shorts. As mentioned earlier, this is partly because I prefer trousers and partly because some of my shorts are too similar to one another. However, I also keep forgetting there are some days - spent at the beach or by the pool - where swimming shorts negate the need for other shorts.

The swim shorts I wore on this trip were from Ripa Ripa, an Italian brand that does a nice line in plain and patterned designs. The design above is the Toscano, in a washed-out aqua green. I'd definitely recommend sizing up, I'm a 34" waist and went for an XL as the mesh interlining on the large was so tight I felt like a dolphin caught in a fisherman's net (or some other less delusional analogy).

The non-swim shorts I wore split into two categories: the Tyler model by Ralph Lauren (above) and the Riviera model by Scott Fraser (below).

The former are a classic chino short with shallow double pleats and belt loops. They're a great option for anyone that wants to try a fuller short as they're so easy to pick up second-hand - this eBay link has over 300 options, and you shouldn't pay more than £30-£35 (I suspect US readers might be able to find them for even less).

I wrote about the latter last summer, and they remain my most worn shorts. They're undoubtedly high-rise, but I think it might be slightly exaggerated by the angle of the photo above.

What I really appreciated about them in the scorching Thai heat was the tab-and-button side adjusters, which allowed me to loosen the shorts whenever I was feeling particularly hot.

That ability to 'adjust' your clothes is something that shouldn't be overlooked when whittling down the final selection of one's holiday wardrobe. My fixed-length metal watch - which is perfectly comfortably on the wrist in London - felt like I'd been handcuffed by an overzealous dominatrix once in Thailand; it was swiftly abandoned for a watch on a leather strap that I could buckle one or even two holes looser.

For those same reasons, I'd consider taking drawstring trousers on future holidays, and I'd be keen to hear from readers that have any good recommendations in that area.

For T-shirts, I packed a lovely selection of knitted versions from Rubato (below), The Anthology and Adret. Like Simon, I'm an advocate of the knit T, and think it's one of the easiest and more inexpensive ways that a 'jeans-and-T-shirt-guy' can upgrade their look.

So, it initially came as a surprise that I didn't wear them as much as I thought I would - especially during the day. However, with hindsight, it does make some kind of sense.

The beauty of the knitted T-shirt is that it sits (and stays) higher on the neck, has cuffed sleeves, a ribbed hem, shape through the body, and is often made from a sturdy cotton. But in the intense and punishing heat of Thailand, those aren't necessarily the qualities I prize.

I want a T-shirt that weighs nothing, that sags away from the neck and flaps off the body whenever there is the merest suggestion of a breeze. In short, I want a T-shirt that is (and forgive me for using a highly technical menswear term here) a bit shit.

Of course, I'd have my Permanent Style accreditation revoked if didn't pack any tailoring. On this trip, our stints in Bangkok (which book-ended our travels) coincided with two dinners hosted by The Decorum to mark the trunk shows of Assisi Bespoke House, The Anthology and Edward Green - ample reason to take a suit.

As an aside, I had the chance to visit some of The Decorum's stores and chat with co-founders Guy and Ball, and I'm really impressed by the breadth of what they're doing. There's a strong emphasis on classic menswear and an exciting roster of almost weekly trunk shows. But they're also making more fashion forward brands like Bode accessible - I'd love to have attended a recent event where you could personalise Senior Cords.

The suit I wore to both dinners was made by J. Mueser from a Spence Bryson dark-brown linen. It's the first thing Jake made for me and it's turned out just great - no mean feat considering one of the fittings had to be held in the back room of a busy wine bar at Pitti. (Apparently if an Italian sees a man wandering around in their underpants they just assume they must be getting a new suit.)

I do find plain linen suits one of the easiest to break up, and I think the trousers combined well here with my (tucked) Bigman shirt and Baudoin & Lange Stride loafers.

I actually wore the suit one more time on holiday. The third occasion came unexpectedly in Ko Samui, where a very polite and well-groomed gentleman stopped me by the pool of our hotel to let me know he was a Permanent Style reader. Hi Pawel!

We chatted over the next few days, played a few frames of pool, and on Pawel's last night at the hotel agreed it would be fun to don our finest and enjoy a valedictory meal together.

Dressed in a navy polo and high-twist woollen jacket from Cavour, Pawel was elegant and cool as a cucumber, and remained so even after volunteering to take part in the evening's entertainment - a fire show. A final reminder of the importance of cloth selection when embarking on a summer trip: make sure it's both breathable and flame retardant.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram. This article is dedicated to the birthday girl, my wonderful Gemma, whose unlimited patience in taking photos of me until we got one without my eyes closed made this article possible.

The Rondini British sandal: A review from the road

Posted on 07/04/202507/04/2025 by Manish Puri

Monday, April 7^th 2025Tags:

By the time you read this I will have returned from my first-ever trip to Thailand, a glorious fortnight spent in Bangkok and some of the southern islands including Ko Pha Ngan and Ko Tao - both of which are popular with backpackers, the latter renowned for its diving and the former its Full Moon Parties.

Given that reputation, coupled with the withering tropical climate, I knew that (with the heaviest of hearts) I just might have to leave my cream linen DB suit and cordovan loafers at home, and pivot toward a more casual holiday wardrobe.

I’ve already been asked by Simon to pick through some of the holiday outfits I wore. That article will follow soon, but today I wanted to share with you the unexpected hit of my travels: a pair of Rondini sandals that I bought expressly for the trip.

My go-to holiday footwear has traditionally been Moonstar Gym Classics in white (below). They’re lightweight, fairly comfortable, and passable with casual tailored trousers when clean - which is rare. But even these canvas shoes can feel hot, especially if worn with socks (invisible or otherwise).

The only open-toe shoes I previously owned were a pair of black Havaianas - which I must have bought on a dare. They are supremely naff, with an uncomfortable wedge of hard rubber jammed between your toes and a flimsy sole that flaps and yaps around the heels like an irritating dog. In case I haven't made it clear, I don’t like them.

And yet, I dutifully pack them in my suitcase for every warm weather trip, pull them out only when absolutely necessary, and hate every second they’re on my feet. And the cruelest twist is that I then tell myself it’s not worth spending money on a better pair as I’m just not a ‘sandals guy’ - thereby ensuring that the Havaianas and I are destined to remain entwined in a loveless tango for at least one more holiday.

However, this time around, in anticipation of the environment I’d be travelling in, I was determined to broker a reconciliation of styles between the ubiquitous Birkenstock-clad backpacker and my own instinctively dressier leanings.

In a startling act of pro-activity, I did what I suspect a lot of us do before travelling: consult Permanent Style. Simon’s article on sandals featured the Rondini ‘Bande Coupée’ model, which I like, but I wanted something that would grip the foot a little more.

I eventually opted for the ‘British’ model on the advice of a super helpful reader comment from Eric Michel. And cos I’m well British, innit.

Eric said they were “very comfortable”, and he’s absolutely right. I picked up a box of plasters expecting the leather to chafe against my sockless toes, but I didn’t have to use a single one - even after wearing the sandals for long strolls.

My usual shoe size is UK 8.5-9 (EU 42.5-43): if it’s a wider shoe the 8.5 is often fine, if it’s narrower I go for a 9 and accept that in exchange for more comfort across the instep I might have to add an insole or heel grip to secure my foot.

A warning to potential customers: the Rondini website crashes more frequently than a fairground bumper car. But when it works it’s diligent in helping you find the right size, using a series of detailed measurements - length, width and circumference around various parts of the foot - to recommend a size to you.

The website suggested I go for EU43 (UK9). I was slightly nervous that this would be a touch loose as there wouldn’t be enough time to exchange them before my departure (and adding a heel grip would presumably be ineffective). However my nervousness was unfounded, and they’ve proved to be absolutely perfect.

Over time the leather straps have stretched a touch - which has actually been welcome as my feet can swell in extremely hot climates. But the sandals continue to hold my feet securely, and I always have the option to buckle them tighter.

The sandals are adept at transitioning between short/T-shirt and trouser/shirt combos. (I’ll talk through some of the outfits in more detail in that upcoming article).

The other unexpected benefit was already elucidated in Simon’s article, where he said that one of the advantages of a sandal on holiday was “having a shoe to quickly slip on and off”.

In this respect, the Rondinis have been invaluable in Thailand where local custom often requires shoes to be removed before entering homes, temples, and even shops and restaurants.

I’ve enjoyed wearing the sandals so much that I’m tempted to pick up a pair of the ‘Franciscaines Fines’ model (above). It’s the style I was originally drawn to, before opting in favour of the chunkier British model - an all round safer/more conservative option for the first timer.

I’d also like to try something in a darker colour (‘coffee’ or ‘black’) which I think will pair more successfully with my preferred darker tailored trousers than the Rondini default ‘natural’ colourway.

The only downside to having such an uncovered foot is that it left me exposed to a snake bite while returning home from the beach one morning.

Fortunately, the assailant in question (a green cat snake) is only “mildly venomous” - which is like describing someone as “not a very good murderer” - so I didn’t require any medical treatment.

To be honest, I didn’t really mind getting bitten as this is the manliest thing to happen to me since I asked for more drape in the chest of my suits. However, on that fateful morn, as I sat on the kerb and inspected the blood and the puncture marks, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “this wouldn’t have happened if I was wearing my cordovan loafers”.

A contrasting view: Mixing dark trousers with light tops

Posted on 17/02/202503/12/2025 by Manish Puri

Monday, February 17^th 2025Tags:

When I started to wear more tailored clothing - and it won’t surprise you to learn that coincided with when I began to read PS regularly - it seemed to me that the epitome of elegance was the ability to mix darker jackets with lighter coloured trousers.

The digital manscape was awash with photos of handsome Italians, strapping Swedes and impossibly chic Japanese men sporting creamy flannels, pale grey Fresco and taupe twills on their lower half.

And, even as recently as last year, Derek Guy (in a post distilling style lessons from Seinfeld’s George Costanza) advocated for “dark top; light bottoms”.

I tried, Derek. I really did.

Left: An impossibly chic Japanese man. Right: A handsome Italian

Whenever an opportunity to wear non-corporate tailored clothing presented itself, I’d dutifully trial various combinations and permutations, before predictably falling back on what felt most comfortable to me: dark shoes, dark trousers and a light colour up top.

It seemed like a fairly unremarkable (and even dull) preference. It was only when Gianluca Migliarotti (above, right) who is stellar at pairing dark sober colours on top with lighter, more expressive trousers, complimented me on the way I mixed lighter jackets with dark trousers, that I realised I might have something verging on a style-signature. (Ok, it’s no watch over a shirt cuff, but even Agnelli had to start somewhere!)

But why did I gravitate towards darker trousers in the first place? I’ll try and answer that question in this article.

Now, in doing so, there’s bound to be an element of post-purchase rationalisation at play: isn’t the quest for personal style often about stumbling on what feels right and telling a pretty story about it later?

But I believe the preference was ingrained by my early forays into classical menswear, where I found my best purchases were practical, versatile and, to a certain degree, inconspicuous.

Charcoal trousers (in particular) ticked all three boxes, and that’s why they’re referenced so much in this article. But similar reasoning holds for dark green, brown and blue trousers.

Of course, with time and some experimentation, I’ve come to embrace a paler bottom [note to self: must rephrase that before publishing]. But in spite of my shift, it seems to me that in the interim the prevailing winds of taste have started to blow gently in my direction.

Don’t believe me? Take a look at the PS Lookbook - a great resource, not just for outfit inspiration, but for seeing how even permanent style can evolve. There's been a marked change in colour gradient over the years, with less contrast between top and bottom as well as more dark bottoms mixed with light tops.

For example, in 2017, Simon paired his chocolate suede bomber with stone chinos and white trainers, but in 2023 they’re replaced by charcoal flannels and black tassel loafers.

Or take two lovely casual outfits worn at the summer edition of Pitti: in 2019 Simon fixes the dark colours up top, while in 2023 it’s inverted.

The more generous-natured among you might say, “Bravo, Manish! You’re clearly a man ahead of his time!”

Alas, a more precise summation of my “trendsetting” is offered by Junior Soprano in one of my all-time favourite lines from the show: “Some people are so far behind in a race that they actually believe they’re leading”.

Anyway, I hope my thoughts prove helpful to readers, especially those who are relatively new to classic menswear, and often ask how they can introduce smarter clothes to their wardrobe. Let’s start the dissection from the ground up.

Black shoes

Long before the menswear cognoscenti decreed that it was ok to wear black again, I’ve held a strong preference for black shoes. That kind of makes sense because, for most of my life, it’s what I’ve been told to pair trousers with - school and the office being the principal enforcers of the combination.

But the truth is, I could have worn more brown shoes at any point in the last 20 years. Over that time, office dress codes haven’t so much relaxed as popped a couple of Valium and put on a Bob Marley record, and the “no brown in town” rule is about as carefully observed as a VAR decision.

So my reluctance to wear brown can’t really be blamed on anything beside my own "spectrum of worries”. Or more accurately, the dizzying spectrum of choice: oak, antique, chestnut, museum, walnut. Am I buying shoes or building a cabinet? All wonderful colours and, with my menswear beginner’s luck, all guaranteed to be an ever-so-slightly different shade to what I actually wanted.

But black is black, with little margin for error - a critical (if unrealistic) precept when I started my menswear journey. And so, across my tassels, pennys, lace-ups and slippers, black dominates. Of course I’m a little more assured now, and I do own brown shoes; I really like the John Lobb Lopez in dark brown museum calf - but even that’s pretty black.

Dark trousers

Having pitched my tent in the black shoes camp, the most natural and versatile trouser partner seemed to be either mid-grey (above) or charcoal. I think taupe-coloured trousers can also look quite chic with black shoes, but there’s two reasons why charcoal usually prevailed.

The first is that charcoal just seemed a little less menswear-y. Take a look at most guys around you, and almost certainly they'll be wearing something very dark on their bottom half. So, to my eyes at least, even something relatively dark like mid-grey stood out in a non-sartorial crowd.

Whereas charcoal, although notionally a smarter colour, seemed better at hiding in plain sight. Seated at a table in the dimly lit corner of a local pub, my trousers might just be mistaken for washed black denim. Of course, the dainty loafers, one-inch belt and double pleats would eventually give the game away, but I’d pass a sniff test.

The second factor: charcoal is more of a workhorse. We all accept that one of the keys to the longevity of a quality wardrobe is to not hammer your clothes every day. Brush them, hang them and give them the occasional day off. But that logic was often overpowered by the zeal of this particular menswear newbie: I like these trousers, I’ve paid good money for these trousers, hence I shall wear these trousers.

And charcoal seemed better at hiding those tell-tale signs of excessive wear: creases and the odd spillage (sparkling water, maybe a cold-pressed juice, never beer). So it was a practical selection that allowed me to get comfortable with tailored clothes, without feeling like I needed to go out and immediately splurge on another pair to keep up appearances.

Lighter tops

Finally we move to the torso.

The sheer darkness of the bottom half naturally lends itself to higher contrast looks, and I maintain that a high-contrast look is one of the easiest ways for a guy developing their style to make a strong visual impact with minimal fuss.

For example, I’m still to be convinced that a good semi-smart summer outfit for most men requires more than dark high-twist trousers, a cream linen shirt unbuttoned to one hole below where you feel comfortable, and an accessory - a ring, watch, necklace - that feels personal to you.

In winter, charcoal flannels, a heavy white oxford-cloth shirt and your upper layer of choice - denim trucker, chore coat, knitwear, blazer or leather jacket (above, from Bryceland's) - should similarly see you through most eventualities.

Granted, these aren’t the most adventurous looks, but my ambition has always been to subtly improve my style, not get spotted by WWD.

The last factor in support of a lighter top might be the most personal. As someone with darker skin and an even darker beard, I always liked the contrast they offer. Give me a haircut, a shower and a crisp white shirt and I feel boxfresh.

Of course, as my beard slowly turns snow white, it’ll be interesting to see if my position flip flops. Expect to read an article from me extolling the virtues of black shirts in 2028!

The outfits

Finally, a quick word on the three outfits (where the only item I’ve changed is the trousers) - shot by Alex at Pitti.

The jacket is MTM from J. Mueser, made up in a Harris tweed from Campbell's of Beauly, and the shirt and tie are from Bryceland’s. Simon has covered a couple of commissions from J. Mueser, so I’ll just add that I’ve found their jackets really easy to wear. A clean, simple Neapolitan-inspired style with no element dominating another.

The charcoal trousers and the pale grey are both from The Anthology - the latter pair being my first ever bespoke trousers from them, so they’re a little slimmer than my usual cut.

The mid to dark grey trousers are the Aleks model from Kit Blake - a brand I’ve previously covered here. I still recommend them as a good well-priced RTW option to anyone looking for a fuller cut. They’re made from a 12oz Italian flannel, which feels very comfortable to wear, but (as you can see from some of the shots) did flap about a bit on a blustery afternoon.

My personal preference is for a heavier cloth (The Anthology trousers are between 14oz and 18oz), but I’ve been told by Kit Blake that they plan to release heavier cloth versions in the future, which is welcome news for me.

I hope the three looks help illustrate how much difference the trousers can make, and I present them largely without comment - by this point in the article, you should know which iteration I prefer! However, I’d be really interested to hear which one readers like and why.

That said, there are two thoughts on the photos that I’d like to share.

First, while I think the charcoal trousers work best with black shoes and the light grey with brown (unfortunately, I didn’t pack any to change into), the Kit Blake trousers would sit well with either - another strike for the versatility of mid-grey.

My second musing relates to the extent to which taste is shaped by our physical environment. In London, where the black tarmac seems permanently rain-slicked and the air itself can feel grey, dark shoes and trousers seem less of a style choice and more of a visual echo.

However, against the lambent sandstone streets of Florence, even I must humbly concede, the light grey trousers (which I usually wear the least) look bloody gorgeous.

Florence photos by Alex Natt

La Bowtique made-to-measure: Review

Posted on 30/12/202430/12/2024 by Manish Puri

By Manish Puri.

The first dinner suit I ever purchased was from the online vintage shop Savvy Row: a nineties bespoke Anderson & Sheppard double-breasted. And, after some alterations - which, out of a sense of custodianship of the suit, I chose to have done at A&S - I turned to La Bowtique for a bow tie.

As Simon said in his introductory piece on the brand, “[the founder] Mickael…makes some of the finest bespoke bows”, and the one I purchased - a large drop in grosgrain - was the crowning glory of my eveningwear.

However, of more value to me was the opportunity to tap into Mickael’s knowledge of evening wear (he’s literally written the book on it) and his boundless enthusiasm for it.

As a consequence, I’ve felt emboldened to wear black tie at events that I’d never have previously considered: at the theatre, special dinners, and even a night out to mark a friend moving to New York. My dinner suit, instead of being a dusty trophy worn every couple of years, is now a fairly active part of my wardrobe.

Before bow ties became his full-time occupation, Mickael (above) spent a decade fitting customers for bespoke and made-to-measure at Cad & The Dandy and Huntsman. So when he launched his own MTM tailoring this autumn, I knew I’d want to try it if I could.

Although one can commission suits and separates, the core offering revolves around evening wear - a genre of clothing I think marries well with MTM. It's not a stretch to assume assume readers would want to look as good as possible when attending a black tie do, so they might prefer something more customised than RTW; but, on the other hand, the cost-per-wear ratio of bespoke can be prohibitive.

Mickael offers the full spectrum of dinner jacket styles. However, it was the single-breasted peak lapel that caught my attention and ultimately my commission.

My jacket is typical of the house style in that it’s a classic cut - single-button closure, lightly padded shoulders, no vents, and longer and fuller than most modern jackets. The latter born out of pragmatism as much as any stylistic ideology, according to Mickael: “Black tie events are usually indoors, so you really don’t want anything to be too close fitting or you’ll overheat.”

The defining feature of the jacket is the gorge line - which is low by contemporary standards. On my La Bowtique jacket, the distance between the shoulder seam and the point where the lapel meets the collar (marked in red) is 4.5 inches. The biggest gorge drop on my other tailored jackets is 4 inches, and most have a gap of just 3.5 inches.

While there are some benefits to a higher gorge (something we should talk about in a future article), it’s not something Mickael finds flattering in modern evening wear. Although, he acknowledges that the mainstream trend toward shorter jackets has meant the gorge has had no choice but to rise to maintain proportions.

Once again, there’s a practical element to his preference: a lower gorge permits the bow tie space to breathe. I mean, you don’t put angel wings close to the star on top of your Christmas tree, do you?

While it is possible to adjust the gorge height, I didn’t stray from the house standard. And while I might not go as low on every subsequent lounge or business suit, I love the visual impact on evening wear.

Perfecting the gorge and lapel is something I know Mickael has spent many months on - not just in design, but in his efforts to find a maker that could accommodate those designs. His initial plan was to use MTM factories, but found they usually operated within too strict parameters. “There wasn’t much room for any personal imprint,” he says.

Instead he partnered with a bespoke workshop in India to deliver garments made at a level typically reserved for bespoke: a hand-padded chest, collar and shoulder as well as hand-made buttonholes. The price is higher than if he’d pursued the factory route, but he and the customer have more flexibility as a result.

I did ask whether, given the nature of the make, he’d considered upgrading to a fully bespoke product. Mickael was emphatic that, even though in his tailoring career he’d done “everything but”, he wasn’t a cutter. He’s also someone who prefers to keep things simple.

“I don’t enjoy the back and forth that comes with bespoke, and there are so many variables that can go wrong,” he says. “I believe 80 to 90% of people can get a good result from MTM. Having fitting garments helps to visualise the outcome at the start of the process, which limits the risks massively. Of course, it’s important to explain to people what the limitations of MTM are to manage their expectations.”

The fitting garments referred to are made from a kid mohair/wool blend. Mickael likes to use a lighter cloth here, as it’s easier to see where he needs to direct his attention when making adjustments.

But, equally important are the initial conversations around the customer's existing wardrobe, their tastes and how they like to wear things. In Mickael’s opinion, because of the use of fitting garments, MTM’s main pitfall is less about style and more about miscommunication: mistakes occur because the maker hasn’t tried to, or hasn’t been able to understand what someone wants.

Knowing my more traditional persuasions for evening wear, he guided me toward a heavier 14oz barathea from Dugdale, which he said would drape well (it does). I also prefer the matte finish of the barathea (the mohair/wool blend has a little sheen) as I find it allows the accents - the satin lapels, bow tie, studs, cufflinks - to catch the eye more.

One note of caution is that barathea is a tightly woven cloth and doesn’t have much give. Perfect for maintaining the sharp, crisp lines you want for evening wear, but a recipe for restriction if you opt for an overly tailored fit. If in doubt, I’d ask for a little more room.

The suit was delivered five weeks after our fitting appointment, where any final alterations - which are done in London by Savile Row tailors - can be discussed. The photos in this article (shot at the La Bowtique studio in east London) were all taken before the local alterations (with one exception, which I’ll come to).

There’s not much to say about the front, because, as Mickael has already pointed out, I kind of knew what was coming. I liked the house style, the size 40 fitting jacket was a pretty solid fit off the rail, and I’d already seen the barathea made up in one of Mickael’s personal suits.

The front shot does underline how classic that house style is. At a length of 31.25”, the La Bowtique jacket is longer than any tailored jacket I’ve ever had by a minimum of three-quarters of an inch - my others range between 29.5” and 30.5”. But if there’s ever a time to try a longer, more traditional coat, I think it’s for evening wear.

I’m very pleased with the length, but, as before, I might go half an inch shorter on subsequent lounge suits. Of course, as with the gorge, you can opt to shorten the jacket at the fitting stage, but at what point do you start to lose the essence of the house-style? Too many adjustments and you might be better served trying another maker or going bespoke.

To maintain consistency with Simon’s reviews, Alex took a rear photo. It’s the first time I’ve ever looked quite so forensically at the back of one of my suits; it’s certainly instructive, but (as Simon is often at pains to point out) can be misleading too. A tilt of the camera, a shift in the light or a quick brush down can change the perception entirely; if you’re not careful one could end up chasing phantom fit issues in a game of whack-a-mole.

Nonetheless, Mickael and I spoke about three things. The first was the back of the knees where the trousers gave slightly, and he suggested we pick them up at the waistband.

The second was across the shoulders. Now, you should know that I’m a hugger, a wildly inept dancer, and I like to lean forward with shoulders rounded when in conversation with friends - as if engaged in a dangerous conspiracy.

I’ve learned the hard (and expensive way) that I need comfort, so the back of my jackets tend to have a bit of drape. We’d already picked the back up at the fitting stage, however, we both agreed it could be slightly cleaner, without restricting me, by taking it up a touch more.

Finally, the right sleeve looked a little rumpled. From side-on, the pitch seemed fine. We discussed removing a bit of excess from the sleeve - which is fairly full - but I decided against that for reasons of comfort.

After the local alterations, the suit was pressed and ready for collection about a week later - the photo above shows the back of the finished suit.

I know pressing is something that most quality MTM/bespoke tailors will do, but few are quite as vocal about the benefits as Mickael. “It’s a totally different garment,” he tells me. Not only does it sharpen the lines of the suit, but it also brings shape and comfort when properly done. Case in point, the right sleeve has settled down nicely.

I could have just used this photo of the final suit and ignored the interim shot, but I hope the inclusion of both helps give the readers a better insight into the process, and illustrates that not everything necessarily needs ‘fixing’. I also appreciate Mickael’s openness to sharing images of the interim stages.

These minor alterations have helped turn a good fit into a very good one, and this will now be the starting point for subsequent commissions.

Having read Permanent Style (and the comments section) for many years, it’s clear to me there’s an increasing demand for quality MTM delivered at a reasonable price. Comparing like-for-like (i.e. this first make vs. other first makes), I’d rank La Bowtique among the better MTM tailors I’ve tried.

A two-piece suit or dinner suit starts from £2400 (mine was £2700), which is comparable to the price of most of the MTM tailors in Simon’s list (after allowing for a bit of post-Covid inflation).

Most of the brands on that list have less handwork than La Bowtique. Saman Amel’s Napoli line has similar levels (and I’d agree with Simon that theirs is another of the best MTM offerings going), but that’s around £1000 more expensive than La Bowtique (and some of the reasons for the price difference are explored here).

For the first-timer, it’s also incredibly convenient that La Bowtique sell every accessory you need for a black tie rig (bar shoes and jewellery): silk socks, cummerbund, braces, pocket square, MTM shirt and, of course, a bow tie - which is complimentary with every MTM dinner suit.

I’ll write about these in a follow-up article - some worked better than expected and some (notably the shirt) less well.

However, ultimately, the main reason I’d recommend La Bowtique’s MTM to readers is the same reason I went to them for my first bow tie: their affinity for evening wear. Mickael has worn virtually every type of evening garment you might ever consider for yourself; he knows the little details that can make or break black tie, and is familiar with the angels and the devil that lie therein. But, above all, he understands that these are clothes of celebration, joy and fun.

La Bowtique can be contacted on WhatsApp at +44 7572 869286

Photos by Alex Natt

Ralph Fitzgerald: The Chrysler Tailor

Posted on 18/12/202411/05/2026 by Manish Puri

Wednesday, December 18^th 2024Tags:

For my money it’s the most beautiful building in New York. And yet, despite being lucky enough to have been to the Big Apple on more than a dozen occasions, I’ve never actually been inside the Chrysler.

But today, after leaving Grand Central via the correct exit (itself a noteworthy accomplishment), instead of just gazing up at the steel gargoyles and the spire glinting in the early autumn sky, I’m going in.

The lobby glimmers with soft light and the rich browns of African marble, like the interior of an ornate Easter egg that’s slowly melting away. A security guard approaches and says, “How can I help you, sir?”

“I’m here to see Ralph Fitzgerald, the tailor.”

“Oh, Ralph. He’s on 49.” I’m ushered toward a bank of elevators and whisked skywards.

Ralph Fitzgerald started his career in London at the age of 16 when his Dad, who was friendly with a doorman at the nearby Scott’s restaurant, bagged his son an apprenticeship with Douglas Hayward on Mount Street. “He was the coolest tailor,” Ralph tells me, “I know Michael Caine’s Alfie was based on him, but I can’t believe there hasn’t been a movie made about Doug.

“I was there for four years and worked for no pay for the first two. It was totally worth it because I started as a nervous kid and came away with a lot of confidence.” For the record, Ralph’s claims of poverty aren’t strictly true: Roger Moore, upon delivery of a Hayward suit, did tip Ralph £50 for the express purpose of wining and dining an upcoming date.

After a spell at Kilgour, Ralph settled at Huntsman, and in 2017 was promoted to US Head Cutter and sent across the pond to help establish their pied à terre on West 57th Street, where he remained until he founded his own house in 2023.

Ralph’s house cut is clearly inspired by his London origins: strong shoulder, dropped gorge, nipped waist and lower buttoning point - often secured with a solitary button. (I could literally hear the strains of Mrs. Robinson as I tried on the rich corduroy jacket above).

I also found the double breasted model (below) very flattering. The low buttoning point (which Ralph favours as it exposes more of the shirt and tie), moderately wide bellied lapels, double buttonholes and rounded lapel points combine to look like the face of a somnolent fox.

Ralph also prefers a wider collar piece as it helps the leaf-edge of the collar to read straight upon the form - which he thinks looks better. It’s fascinating how, having expressed doubts about a bigger collar in the review of my Taillour DB (reservations that most readers politely and helpfully dismissed in the comments), I’m really starting to appreciate a fuller collar panel. A lesson in being patient with your clothes and allowing the eye and the mind time to adjust.

In deference to the meteorological and sartorial climate of his newly adopted home, the house construction tends to be much more lightweight than a traditional London coat - with less padding and lighter canvas.

This is just one of the ways that Ralph has adapted to and embraced New York life. But, just as interesting to me is how his overall approach has a simplicity, clarity and openness to new ideas that I’ve always found to be characteristic of my favourite New Yorkers.

Take the fitting process. This is kept as simple as possible - the majority of Ralph’s garments are delivered fin-bar-fin after one baste fitting, i.e. finished without buttonholes and with the lining still to be hand felled. As a result, turnaround times are relatively short: around 10 weeks for a first commission and five weeks for repeat orders.

While it's fairly unusual to skip a forward fitting, Ralph's model has been honed by his experience of US trunk shows - where a garment can easily take over a year to finish. As he explains: “Time is a big factor here. It’s nobody’s fault, but I think people get exhausted by lots of fittings."

With that said, Ralph made it clear to me that he wouldn't baulk at offering a forward fitting if one were needed. In his experience, he's just found that it's not often the case. I'd recommend that any potential customers with concerns reach out to Ralph beforehand. However, ultimately, the proof is in the wearing, and that's something I will be able to comment on in the future.

Ralph’s pricing is also a good example of clarity. Sports coats are $5,000, and suits and overcoats $6,000. These are fixed rates for most cloths, barring super-luxe selections such as cashmere, vicuña and alpaca - the latter used for the overcoat above which is my favourite commission of the year (alas, not mine). As Ralph explains, “It’s frustrating for a customer when they're told an initial price and then get charged an extra 10% because they picked a more expensive cloth.”

I’d agree with that sentiment and add that, in a pricey town, Ralph represents good value, especially when you consider that more established American purveyors of an English style, such as the travelling Savile Row tailors or Leonard Logsdail, can charge up to nearly twice as much.

Of course, the decision to have fewer fittings helps to control costs, plus those other businesses carry more prestige and significantly higher overheads than Ralph’s nascent, one-man enterprise.

At the heart of Ralph’s tailoring identity is an openness to new ideas. Recently finished commissions that I saw hanging on the rails included a reversible satin/alpaca bomber jacket, a trench coat made in a reproduction World War II cloth by Hainsworth, and a barathea jumpsuit for a Pilates instructor (below).

“I think tailors should be excited to do something different. I’m not better than any garment, and I like to understand how things are made,” he says.

In my opinion, it’s that enthusiasm and willingness to try new things that’s helped Ralph become an inadvertent hit with the ladies…in business terms! Around 50% of his clientele is women.

“New York women have incredible taste and they’re often accustomed to paying very high designer prices, so when they walk into a bespoke studio and realise they can have whatever they want for a similar amount it’s a shock to the system. Women are also great at spreading the word if they’re happy.”

I asked Ralph about the challenges of adapting to cutting for women: “It’s not rocket science, but, of course, it is significantly different. However, the main difference isn’t technical, it’s taste.

“Generally, there will be small differences in men’s taste. But women have wildly different preferences on the shoulder line, lapel, shape through the waist, trouser style - it’s far more challenging in that way. But that’s where I think the cutter’s skill lies: working out what the customer wants.”

At present, Ralph sends all his cut bundles to London to be basted and finished. “There’s some incredibly skilled makers in New York, and I’d love to have everything made here one day, but there isn’t the same capacity as there is in London,” he says.

However, minor alterations and certain finishing touches are done in New York - including two of my favourite stylistic flourishes of Ralph’s.

The first is the precisely stitched buttonholes - long and lean with a small keyhole, they resemble matchsticks and are among the neatest I’ve come across.

The second is cloth-covered buttons. Ralph found a shop in the Garment District that would cover them, and now it’s become something of a signature on evening wear, overcoats and even blazers. It’s a detail that I always liked on George Cortina’s Anderson & Sheppard suits (from the days when he was a fixture on The Sartorialist’s now-defunct blog), and I think it looks particularly charming on winter clothing, as though the buttons are chilly and need a protective layer too.

That Ralph was pottering about in the Garment District will come as little surprise to those that know him. He has a self-declared passion for sourcing cloth, and his vintage collection - much of it scored in that neighbourhood - is as interesting as any I’ve seen. Among his stash you’ll find hand-dyed ombré lambswool, Pierre Cardin alpaca and a prototype worsted-spun cashmere-denim made by Dormeuil.

“The Garment District is sat on so much rare and wonderful cloth, and a lot of it is really unusual because it comes from the fabric development teams of big designer brands. A new find that I really like is cotton gauze [as seen on the first DB shown in this article]. It gives some of the same effect as linen, but it’s more porous, requires less maintenance and tailors better in my view.”

For my first commission with Ralph I chose a vintage navy Japanese wool seersucker (above) that is so crisp and textured it could double as a very gentle skin exfoliator - not a property I’d normally commend to you, but you really should feel this stuff. Count on a review from me when it’s ready next year.

I left Ralph to the tranquillity of his studio, high above the hustle and bustle of midtown Manhattan. “It’s nice just to lose yourself in your own stuff, and not see what everyone else is doing all the time,” he tells me.

As I exited the majestic Chrysler I took one last admiring glance at the spire - and asked myself 'Has it always looked like a sewing needle?'

Ralph Fitzgerald can be contacted at [email protected]. All images are courtesy of Ralph Fitzgerald.

The versatility of olive: Anthology MTM in PS/Fox flannel

Posted on 27/11/202403/06/2026 by Manish Puri

Wednesday, November 27^th 2024Tags:

I’ve had my eye on a dark green suit for a long time. So when Simon very kindly offered me a length of the olive flannel that he’d collaborated on with Fox Brothers, I jumped at the chance.

To give me an idea of what I was in for, Fox Brothers sent me a large swatch alongside ones of the black and brown houndstooth and the navy chalk stripe for good measure. I’m going to be honest with you - as Simon would expect me to be for any product - the green swatch was slightly underwhelming.

It didn’t help that the chalk stripe is essentially my platonic ideal of what a navy version should look like, or that I’m a sucker for houndstooth - particularly one in such an easy combination of colours. Even then, the green - despite having the lovely finish of Fox’s classic flannel - looked a bit flat in comparison to the other two.

O ye of little faith.

The final suit delivered by The Anthology is superb, and I’ve found myself reaching for it every chance I get - on the recent WM Brown Tweed Rally (where it was the garment of mine that attracted the most interest), Saturday night drinks with friends, and even dinner with my lovely ex-wife (it has her seal of approval, even if I don’t).

The colour is spot-on. More than one person has said it’s a “perfect green” - neither too bright and jewel-toned, nor too rustic. Another friend described it as a “city green”, which I like. As Simon said when the cloth was launched, it is a little “muddy” but, without wanting to start the menswear equivalent of “the dress”, I don’t think it contains quite as much brown as you might think based on close-up shots like the one below - especially when you see it fully made up and worn in natural light.

The cloth excels as either a suit or a pair of trousers. I don’t think it works quite as well as a standalone jacket, but I find that to be true of most flannels. The depth and darkness of the green makes it really versatile - adaptable to both day and evening wear and to different styles of dress.

In the daytime, I wear it more classically: with a pale-blue shirt, a crisp white shirt or (as shown here) a pale blue-and-white stripe, finished with a navy or grey tie. (Forgive me if it looks like my tie was hastily tied in a pub toilet with no mirror, it’s because it was). Finished with some black shoes, I think the suit is sober enough to wear to an office - apart from those that still adhere to the strictest of business codes.

For a little more personality, and a smidge less formality, the green also plays well with denim and chambray shirts and autumnal colours like rusty orange, burnished red and ochre. And perhaps a switch to chestnut brown shoes or boots to keep everything earthy.

However, what’s surprised me most is how well this cloth works for evening wear. I would go so far as to say the green is quite chic and a little unexpected for a night out; more interesting than navy and less clichéd than black (with no offence intended to those that wear black - I sport it in the evenings plenty too).

I love pairing it with a fine black knit polo - the one shown is cashmere and silk from Saman Amel. As the polo has quite a soft collar I tend to wear it buttoned up so I don’t lose it under my lapels during the course of an evening.

That’s not something I do very often, but, along with the belted trousers, I think it nods toward the 80s/90s Armani vibe that is so en vogue without mimicking it wholesale - my suit isn’t soft or louche enough to be confused with that look.

While hunting for an Armani reference image, I came across this screengrab in an old PS article by Simon about the style of Richard Burke (a character played by Tom Selleck in the sitcom Friends). The look is almost identical (although Selleck’s suit is more grey-green), and Simon notes “without the belt it would all be a little plain, but that belt draws it together”.

I’d say the same is true of my look too. The belt (an embossed croc with a polished brass buckle from Dylan & Sons) brings a little texture and shine to the sunken green. It’s one of the reasons that I went for belt loops - to allow me to wear the suit more simply (no tie, no pocket square) without sacrificing all points of interest.

Which brings me to the maker of the suit, The Anthology. Regular readers will know that I’ve been a happy customer of theirs since their formation. After some changes in physique and taste over the past couple of years, we’re updating my bespoke pattern which won’t be firmed up until their next London trunk show in early 2025.

However, given how keen I was to get my hands on this suit, Buzz (a co-founder of The Anthology) suggested I try their made-to-measure. Indeed, that’s one of the key features of their MTM: the relative speed of service for trunk show customers. Where a new bespoke commission will take a minimum of eight months - three trunk show appointments, which take place every four months - a finished MTM garment is delivered at the second trunk show, i.e. after four months.

For readers that are really pressed for time and have relatively straightforward requirements, the finished garment could be delivered directly to you eight weeks after the measuring appointment.

This is something I took advantage of given how well The Anthology knows my body and preferences. However, the team were eager to stress that they would still request that the client book an appointment at their next trunk show so they could assess the fit and make any alterations to the garments or adjustments to the pattern - which is precisely what I did with my green suit on their recent London visit.

Return clients can then order future commissions remotely and expect delivery in around six weeks. In those cases, The Anthology team is happy to advise on cloth choice, and that’s something I think they do really well - not just what bunches they recommend, but what specific cloths suit your style and existing wardrobe.

The MTM fitting process begins by trying fitting garments that are broadly the same as their RTW single-breasted offering and typical of The Anthology house style: slightly extended and gently roped shoulders with a lower gorge on the lapel.

There are small differences between the RTW and the MTM fitting jackets. The latter is slightly bigger in the waist, as it’s more instructive to pin something closer to a customer than to have to imagine letting it out. Interestingly, the fitting garments also vary slightly by region: Asian fitting jackets are a touch shorter in the sleeve for example.

Having tried a lot of The Anthology’s RTW (my preferred jacket size is UK40/IT50), and recommended it to anyone that’s looking for a suit that’s a level up from my suits under £1000 article, I was pretty confident we’d get a good result. Having tried the fitting jacket (also a size 40) I became very confident. You can see from the photo how clean the front looked without any pinning.

And that’s a good barometer of whether to opt for MTM or bespoke: how does a fitting jacket (assuming one exists) feel? If there appears to be a lot of issues - collar gap, fit through the shoulders, balance, comfort - then bespoke might be safest. However, if the house block passes muster as a respectable fit then MTM could well be a good option.

With the benefit of experience, I look back on my Suit Supply MTM days and realise now that the fitting jackets weren’t good templates for me. We’d size up significantly as my regular size was too slim, but that meant other elements were too big and imbalanced. They'd try and fix everything through the MTM system which (understandably) had limits on what could be changed, and while the final results weren’t terrible, it was also never quite right - like trying to ward off an invasion of fit issues with a potato gun.

Of course, it’s not always easy as a customer to make that assessment in the moment - especially if you’re new to custom tailoring. In those circumstances you’re really looking to the tailor to steer you in the right direction. Here I think it helps that The Anthology’s MTM programme is run by the same people that fit and cut patterns for bespoke customers - so they know exactly what their MTM can and can’t deliver.

I’ve written before about the importance of trust in a client-tailor relationship, and how that trust can sometimes be cemented by being told “no”. I used The Anthology as an example of a tailor that I felt would give me the right long-term advice, even if it cost them a sale in the short-term. So, I’d have faith in them to guide me on choosing between MTM and bespoke too.

The Anthology’s MTM starts at £1750, and my suit is £1980. For reference, the bespoke starting price is £2850, and that price difference reflects, among other things, the extra handwork that goes into their bespoke garments.

So, having tried the MTM programme would I continue to use it, or would I go back to bespoke?

Had the MTM offering been available when I started commissioning clothes from The Anthology in 2018 I undoubtedly would have started with that. Today, however, I think I’d stick to their bespoke trousers - I’m supremely fussy about the fit through the crotch and seat, and the bespoke trousers have always been superb and well-priced.

In terms of jackets, it's not as straightforward because the MTM version is excellent - clean across the shoulders, comfortable in the back and elbows (two areas where ill-fitting jackets always bother me) and with nice shape through the waist. Having spent quite a bit of time and money refining my jacket pattern I’m minded to stick with bespoke, but it’s a very tough call.

The PS x Fox Brothers olive flannel is available here.

All pictures of the finished suit in the main article by @JKF_Man, shot at The Torridon. Other images courtesy of The Anthology.

Other clothes not mentioned:

Bryceland’s OCBD shirt
Drake’s navy polka dot tie
Alden LHS cordovan loafers from Moulded Shoe in NY (they gave me exemplary service)

As I mentioned at the top of the article, I’ve wanted a dark green suit for a long time so I’ve added a few images from my “look book” below to serve as inspiration.

Please note, none of these suits are made from the PS x Fox Brothers flannel.

A Guide to Shawl-Collar Cardigans

Posted on 11/11/202403/06/2026 by Manish Puri

Monday, November 11^th 2024Tags:

Anderson & Sheppard shorter cardigan (£395)

Unless you’re a complete newcomer to classic menswear (welcome, take a seat wherever you like) you're unlikely to need me preaching to you about the elegance of a shawl-collar cardigan. You’re already a member of the choir and sound fabulous.

What you might need is some reassurance about making the investment and guidance on which cardigan is best for you.

On the former point, I have a Drake’s lambswool shawl-collar cardigan; purchased seven years ago, it was the first quality menswear garment I had to save for, and psyche myself up to buy, as it was (and remains) an expensive proposition. However, it’s become one of my most frequently worn pieces, and one of the easiest ways to quietly elevate even the most casual looks.

On the latter point, I’ve picked out five cardigans today (and a few alternatives) that I think the PS reader will like. They cover all the main options, with a few points here and there making them distinct.

They say a great design is arrived at not when there’s nothing left to add, but when there’s nothing left to takeaway. I suspect this maxim might be pinned up on the walls of the Anderson & Sheppard design studio as I find it applies to a lot of their ready-to-wear.

Just look at how simple - almost austere - this cardigan is in comparison to the others in the guide. It’s the only cardigan with a plain knit - everything else has a rib or cable knit. It’s only one of two cardigans with no pockets. It’s trim (the only cardigan in the guide I’d even consider layering under a coat or roomy jacket) but not tight. And in proportion to the rest of the cardigan, the shawl lapels are cut slimmer - good for any reader that feels swallowed by a thicker and wider lapel.

Even the number of buttons have been cut back - most of the cardigans are five-button whereas the A&S has only four, which helps to lengthen the slimmer lapel and give it more of a jacket-like silhouette. The button colour is also a subtle point of difference: most brands are using dark horn, but A&S often opt for lighter buttons which gives a nice contrast.

The A&S colour selection is among my favourite of all the brands in this guide. Grey and blue is fairly standard across most makers, but the dark green and mocha brown are particularly nice and a bit different to the olives and dark chocolate browns found elsewhere.

I find Anderson & Sheppard knitwear can sometimes be a little small-to-size, so here I tried medium and large - both felt good with little to choose between them.

The cardigan is cropped and designed to sit around the hip bone; as I was wearing particularly high-waisted trousers that day (and generally prefer a higher rise) the medium sat really nicely. However, any readers that prefer a mid-rise might want to size up.

Other options: The Colhay's painters shawl (£595) is similarly aimed at going under a jacket, but is longer and, as it's made from cashmere, finer and a little lightweight. If you like a cropped cardigan, I've had a Speciale cardigan (cotton £395 and cashmere £695) for a year and it's been a really useful addition to my winter wardrobe. It's not a shawl collar, but it's similar enough to the A&S model to warrant a mention.

Drake’s lambswool cardigan (£475)

Now, I know some readers will sigh at yet another inclusion of Drake’s in one of these guides (when they stop making nice versions of classics, I’ll stop including them), but even those suffering from a particularly acute case of Drake’s-fatigue have to acknowledge that the shawl-collar cardigan is something they’ve done very well for a very long time.

For acolytes of a certain era of ‘hashtag menswear’, the Drake’s shawl cardigan (and the lookbooks in which it was presented) was the first time we’d seen the style worn in a cool and contemporary manner. Most other presentations were quite countrified: a tattersall check shirt, a roaring log fire and a model with the smug, satisfied air of a man that’s paid his mortgage off by the age of 40.

And that Drake’s styling was so helpful, because, at heart, their cardigan is probably the most traditional one in this guide: a chunky rib knit with leather football buttons.

The pockets are welted which means the cardigan won’t lose shape or bag if you like to stuff your pockets. That said, they are also the smallest of the pockets here so you won’t get much in them beyond a cardholder, a set of keys and a small tree’s worth of snotty tissues (just me?).

Drake’s probably use the hardiest wool in the guide too. It isn’t quite as soft as the Colhay’s or Thom Sweeney, although mine has definitely softened over the years. However that also means it’s arguably more robust - I only got my first elbow hole (easily repaired) after six years of regular wear.

Other options: Simon and I recently paid a visit to Campbell's of Beauly and I was very impressed with their range of Scottish knitwear. Their 4-ply shawl collar cardigan (£345) was very similar in style to the Drake's model and they had a couple of really lovely colours - a bordeaux red and a duck egg green. I tried the size 40 and it was great. For even more colour choices, you could also try the William Lockie Windsor Shawl Jacket (£279).

Colhay’s lambswool cardigan (£595)

If there’s one brand in this guide that has a special affinity for the shawl collar, it’s surely Colhay’s, whose current knitwear range has five different shawl collar knits (in multiple colours).

I’ve focused here on the superfine lambswool cardigan as it’s the Colhay’s style I’d recommend to readers when choosing their first shawl cardigan. However, for anyone contemplating becoming a two-cardigan family, the aforementioned painter’s cardigan and the shawl coat (a statement piece for knitwear lovers) are definitely worth considering.

I tried both the small and the medium, and while they both looked good my preference was the small. Even after sizing down, it’s a generous garment - the longest in the guide, with ample space to wrap the front panels over one another in a manner akin to a double-breasted jacket.

Even the patch pockets are big, and could comfortably hold a paperback or mini tablet. This might mean the pockets bag a bit more over time, but I can live with that - it’s a cardigan, not a dinner jacket.

My earlier comparison to a jacket is more perceptive than I realised, as Colhay’s founder Ronnie Chiu explained: “Our shawl collar emulates the lapels of a tailored jacket, and the buttoning point sits around the same point as the buttoning point of a tailored jacket. These aspects combine to create a nice V-shape I think - framing the face, broadening the shoulders, nipping in the waist - emulating the flattering effect of a tailored jacket.”

The cardigan is the softest of any of the wool models in this guide - partly because of the finishing, but mainly because the wool is superfine (c 18.5 microns). However, it’s not a delicate piece, the yarn is six-ply and Colhay’s knit more than a kilogram of it into a thick, defined rib-stitch which is very soothing to run your hands along.

I’d also like to make a special mention of the website copy - which is among the best I’ve encountered. I know many PS readers aren’t averse to paying for quality goods, but we expect to be told what makes something worth the money. Sticking a description of “100% wool” next to a garment with a steep price tag just doesn’t cut it - especially when Colhay’s will tell you what sort of yarn they use, where they get it from, who knits it, how they finish it, and how to care for it.

My only reservation with the Colhay’s cardigan is that it might be too cosy. I’d genuinely hesitate to wear it to an office, lest it rouse suspicions that I’m only there to book a meeting room and curl up with a good book and a glass of brandy.

It’s just a lot of wool, especially around the collar where you’ve effectively got two layers sitting atop one another - so if you run hot, or have a shorter neck or just don’t want anything too close to your face, you might want to look at something less beefy. But, the Colhay’s cardigan was my favourite of the wool shawl cardigans in this guide.

Other options: The Scott & Charters cardigan had a similar silhouette to the Colhay's model, but I can't find any stockists this winter (readers please shout if you know otherwise). They used to be sold by No Man Walks Alone, but they've told me they're working on a new shawl design with William Lockie. The closest cardigan in terms of style is our PS Indulgent Cardigan (£995 excl. VAT), which is made in a sumptuous 12-ply cashmere - I've spent a lot of time looking at cardigans recently, and there's nothing as luxurious as this on the market.

Thom Sweeney merino cardigan (£725)

The Thom Sweeney model is the most contemporary style of the cardigans in this guide, which perhaps lends it more versatility than the more traditional designs. One might quip that this is a shawl collar made by Italians - and then you learn that it is actually made in Italy (every other cardigan in the guide is Scottish made) and it all starts to make sense.

The first thing you’ll notice is the wool. It’s not as hardy or heavy as the other cardigans I’ve discussed; it’s made of a smooth and slinky merino with an almost silken finish. It’s still plenty cosy without being smothering.

I spent most of a mild Sunday wearing the wonderful Colhay’s cardigan around the house, before switching to the Thom Sweeney. It was like I’d cracked open a window just a fraction - I was still warm, but there was a renewed freshness to me. This makes it a great choice for readers who run hot or live in milder climates.

Because it’s not as chunky as the other cardigans (having a slimmer shawl helps here too), I also think it’s an ideal travel companion. On most cold-weather getaways, I harbour snuggly fantasies of settling into the corner of a bar with a glass of the local tipple - the shawl collar cardigan draped around my shoulders quietly signifying to everyone just how at home I am.

Of course, then I try to pack the thing in a suitcase, realise it takes up half the space and abandon the fantasy altogether - thwarted, once again, by Ryanair’s baggage policy. However, the Thom Sweeney cardigan should fold down nicely, and even fit in hand luggage without feeling too cumbersome.

There are only three buttons on the front - one less than the A&S and two less than everything else - which gives a clean finish. The effect is amplified by the choice of very dark (almost black) buttons on the classic navy colour - in contrast to most brands who use more traditional dark brown.

Having fewer buttons means you can’t secure the cardigan high around the chest and neck, but it also means that, regardless of how you button it, you’ll always have a flattering, deep v-shape line through the lapels.

The sharper finish (both in terms of design and wool) lends the Thom Sweeney cardigan a smarter air - verging on dressy - which makes it the best choice for readers that want something they can wear to a more formal office. I also think it would carry you into the evening for dinner or drinks without emitting too many old-man vibes. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I should know, I am an old man).

I tried the medium and large and could see both working, but my preference would be a large just to give myself that little extra room and length. The arms are relatively slim compared to the other brands in the guide, so the iron pumpers out there might want to try a size up - sadly, not a consideration I have to make.

Other options: The Buck Mason Herdsman cardigan ($298) also has a slim lapel, fewer buttons than the standard five and squared off pockets. It's not the same quality and slightly more cropped than the Thom Sweeney, but a good budget option.

Begg & Co Aspen cashmere cardigan (£1200)

I met Simon for a coffee in the spring, and (not the first time) came away with severe outfit envy.

He was wearing a pair of charcoal flannels and a washed denim shirt. Nothing particularly remarkable here, although the fit of the trousers and the texture of the shirt were still a cut above the orphaned-suit-trousers and open collar dress shirt ensemble that’s become the hallmark of business casual.

However, the point of focus, the provider of shape, the texture magnet for curious, foraging menswear hands was this beautiful cashmere cardigan from Begg & Co.

Simon has written extensively about Begg in the past, and has consistently highlighted the quality of their raw materials as one of their strengths. Here they use an 8-ply cashmere in a cable knit, which is a style more commonly found on fishermen’s crewnecks (and, as it happens, Begg have a fabulous version of that too).

While the 8-ply cashmere feels fantastic against the body (quelle surprise), it’s also less bulky than the heavyweight 6-ply lambswool from Colhay’s - which makes sense as the cashmere used by Begg is finer and lighter than even superfine wool.

I tried both the small and medium and, to be honest, there wasn’t much difference between the two. If I had to make a choice, I’d stay true-to-size and opt for the medium.

The small, as you’d expect, was a little closer in the arms and chest, but I couldn’t really perceive a difference in length - even though the website indicates there should be a 1.5cm increase everytime you go up a size.

The very helpful sales assistant Ly noted that the small had been hanging on a rail so it may have stretched just a little bit over time. A useful reminder that knitwear (perhaps more than any other type of garment) will give with regular wear - and for a product as lovely and as expensive as this, I insist you wear it every bloody chance you get.

Like the A&S cardigan, the Begg model doesn’t have any pockets. Another feature in common is they’re both relatively cropped - although the Begg is a centimetre or two longer.

In terms of colours, Begg has lent into a cold palette with hard names like pacific and asphalt - a case of nominative indeterminisim given how warm and soft the product is. However, the colour I’d unhesitatingly select for myself is the bare undyed, where the natural colour of the cashmere is allowed to shine untouched by dye. Interestingly, this also helps the cashmere feel ever-so-slightly softer than the dyed equivalents.

Other options: Ralph Lauren have an Aran-knit shawl collar cardigan (£269). The pattern is more prominent than the Begg model, and it's a cotton cardigan so won't be anywhere near as cosy. However, this is a good option if you're looking for a cheaper cable knit.

Manish is @the_daily_mirror on Instagram

Casual craft: How a Real McCoy’s leather jacket is made

Posted on 18/10/202418/10/2024 by Manish Puri

Casual craft: How a Real McCoy’s leather jacket is made

Friday, October 18^th 2024Tags:

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