Removing the white stitch on a new coat

Posted on 17/01/202517/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

I am not, by nature, a confrontational person. But there is something clothing-related that forces me to confront strangers, and in fact in some ways to criticise them. It hasn’t always gone well.

Some brands use white basting thread to sew a small tacking ‘X’ on the vents of their coats. You know the one - it’s there so the nicely pressed vents don’t get all crumpled in transit. The vent is the first thing that could splay open, and crease.

Big brands do this much more than small ones (like those covered on PS). They have larger volumes, and often go through more pairs of hands (eg from a factory to a regional warehouse, to a local warehouse to a store).

The problem is, customers don’t necessarily know what the stitch is for, and sometimes the staff don’t either. They should really remove the stitch before wrapping up the purchase, but they sometimes don’t. And with an online order that whole stage gets skipped anyway.

So people walk around on the street with a big white cross on their coats that shouldn’t be there. And even more painfully for a PS reader, the vents will bow out in an odd way because they’re fastened at the bottom.

But should you ever tell them?

I have done, a couple of times. The first time I did it, the person was very nice and appreciative. I was polite and even apologetic in my approach, I told them in the same way I’d tell someone that their laces were undone - like you assumed they’d want to know and just hadn’t noticed, rather than like a lecture on etiquette.

The second time, however, the person was rather taken aback and told me to go away. Or rather, said ‘f*** off!’. It put me off doing it again, and I never have.

But when I was talking to family members over Christmas, most of them weren’t aware of why the stitches were there, and said I should definitely tell people. That they would too.

The stitches are very easy to remove, by the way. They’re deliberately big and loose in order to make it easy. In fact, arguably it’s worse when the stitches have come loose through wear and just hang there, like a pair of undone shoelaces. I’m not sure how people don’t notice that.

To remove them you can just use regular scissors because the stitch is so big, but a stitch picker (above) is a useful thing to have - for this or similar jobs. They only have a sharp edge on the inside of the fork, which reduces any chance of catching the cloth.

This is particularly useful if you want to do things like remove the label from a scarf or pocket handkerchief. I usually do this with handkerchiefs - because otherwise they always find a way show out of the pocket - but not always with scarves.

The key here is to make sure you cut the stitch that attaches the label to the handkerchief, rather than the one running around the edge of the handkerchief. If you cut of the stitch the end furthest into the label it’s usually OK.

Some bespoke tailors do leave basting stitches on parts of a finished jacket when they ship it. This is often with tailoring that is folded, rather than hung inside a hanger box. The aim is the same - to keep parts that could move around from getting creased.

You can usually remove these in the same way as other basting stitches, just cutting the thread and pulling it out. If one end stays put, it’s because it has a knot securing it at that end. So find the knot and pull from there.

I should mention the fact that Maison Margiela uses basting thread like this as a decorative detail, deliberately sewing through to the back of the garment so four stitches show. No one’s suggesting those should be cut off.

But you should - absolutely - cut off the brand label that sometimes appears on the sleeve of a suit. This was introduced to make it easier for department stores to identify brands on a rack, and is meant to be removed at the point of purchase, in the same way as the stitches on a vent. But some people leave them on, thinking it’s meant to be there and/or that it’s a great way to show people how expensive your suit is.

That one, however, is probably best not to tell people about.

Awards 2025: Who’s your favourite menswear brand right now?

Posted on 15/01/202515/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

The Permanent Style Awards are back. We had a bit of a hiatus last year for ‘Dry January’ but I wanted to do the annual awards again, with some of the most popular categories from previous iterations, plus a couple of new ones.

So I would like to know - or rather everyone would like to know - who is:

Your favourite menswear brand in the world right now, and why
Your favourite product you bought last year (still why)
Your favourite artisan in the world (OK why for all of these)
Your favourite mainstream brand (definition: more than 10 stores)
Your best repair or maintenance experience (anywhere, ever)

The point of these awards is to gather all the collected knowledge of 2 million+ Permanent Style readers around the world, at one time, because it's nice to do two things:

Provide recommendations to all the other 2 million+ readers
Recognise and reward the brands for their style and hard work

Although Permanent Style is bigger now than just me (Simon) it’s still much narrower than the experiences of all PS readers. The problem is those experiences are often scattered across many different comments sections. This puts them all in one place.

In terms of why we chose these categories, the broad brand award allows everyone to mention anyone they like. The product award forces people to name a single thing they’d recommend. And there has to be one on artisans - otherwise they often miss out.

Those are categories we’ve done in the past. I've added the new ones because I know a lot of readers shop from non-niche, non-#menswear brands, but we rarely talk about them. So number 4 is an opportunity for everyone to say which they do most, and why.

And then lastly, we need something that isn’t just about buying stuff. The most important thing about buying quality clothing is looking after it well - so I'd like to hear positive experiences of repairs, cleaning, and general maintenance.

This might be from the brand itself or it might be a third party, either way the point is to help other people look after their things, through first-hand recommendations. Because everything else you scroll through just tells you to get something new.

Please leave your nominations as a comment in the section below.

Those comments will be the primary resource for everyone that wants to read and use this year’s recommendations. But I will also do a follow-up article in two weeks’ time congratulating the winners (those that were nominated the most) and listing a handful of runners’ up that were interesting.

I can’t wait to see what you put.

All six previous sets of awards (2018-2023) can be seen here in the PS archive with a quick search. How we announced the winners varied from year to year, but each primary article has all the nominations in the comments section.

Images, top to bottom: Our review of seven boat shoes; Edward Sexton offshore service; Blackhorse Lane jeans alterations; the worksop of Charlie Borrow

Michael Browne ‘Body coat’: Style breakdown

Posted on 13/01/202513/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

Last year we did a series of articles analysing four of my overcoats from different traditions: Sartoria Ciardi, Cifonelli, Liverano and Edward Sexton. They were discussed, measured and picked apart in the ‘Style Breakdown’ format that also formed the basis of the book Bespoke Style.

There was one, however, which we didn’t have time to include, and it was probably the most unusual – the ‘Body Coat’ from the tailor Michael Browne, which he made for me five years ago.

The coat has some interesting making aspects that are worth delving into, quite apart from the obvious style ones.

House: Michael Browne

Address: 15 Bruton Place, London

Site: michaelbrowne.eu

Cutter: Michael Browne

Price (at time of writing): £8500 (incl VAT)

Perhaps the most evident visually of those making choices is the front edge. This long, sharp line than runs from the lapels down to the very bottom of the coat is actually quite soft.

Most tailors clamp that front edge with hand stitching, to stop it moving around or losing shape. That goes for jackets as well as coats, and for most tailoring traditions.

But Michael puts only subtle top stitching along there, relying on the rest of the make to keep the line straight. This is harder to do and in some ways makes the coat look more like a ready-to-wear piece than a bespoke one.

Or to put it another way, it does something the hard way in order to achieve a deliberate effect – something you could say about Michael’s approach to bespoke in general.

Something similar is done along the bottom edge of the coat – as shown in the image above.

That wide navy panel on the right is the facing – the back of the long line we just talked about. Usually this would finish at the bottom. Instead, the hem (that thinner line of navy material running left to right) is prioritised, running to the corner instead.

This is again done for particular effect, to make that bottom edge cleaner and sharper.

There are details like this all over the coat, including the way the collar is made. Then there’s the beautiful finishing on things like the lapel buttonhole (first image above) and the neat hidden button on the cuff (second image).

That finishing is the best of any of the coats in this series, on a par with Cifonelli.

The design aspects of the coat aren’t all comparable with the other coats in this series, as this is a single-breasted and those were all double. But you can certainly see the distinctive style Michael is going for.

The most obvious things are the closer, jacket-like fit, the simple two buttons, and that clean back – simply sliced by the box pleat in the centre back and a long vent.

But I think the style is actually more down to subtler things, like the relatively small notch on the lapel (which makes it appear wider) or the dead-straight breast pocket with its slightly thinner welt.

These are the kinds of things that really show a designer at work, in a way that rarely happens with more traditional tailors. Edward Sexton, of course, is another in our series that has a distinctive design, but it’s still one that originated now 50 years ago.

I find Michael’s style very satisfying, because it is so distinctive yet (in this material at least) rather subtle.

Most of the time I wear it with things like these charcoal flannels, a navy knit and a pair of black or dark-brown shoes. It looks very stylish yet understated, and seems to draw a particularly large number of compliments.

Interestingly, though, I struggle to wear it with anything other than these quite conservative pieces, in dark colours. Somehow the design is unusual enough to stand out quite a bit if other things do so too – like a silk scarf, pale-coloured trousers, or contrasting shoes. So in that way I haven’t found it anywhere near as versatile as a normal navy overcoat.

Another disadvantage of the style is that the close fit makes it more likely alterations will be needed. You only have to gain a little weight and Michael’s things require letting out, as this one has been for me since the photos were taken last year.

This is an interesting topic, because you would think a close-fitting coat would be no more susceptible to alteration than a loose one. After all a tighter coat needs altering only if you get bigger, not smaller, and a looser coat would probably need altering if you got smaller but not bigger. So the difference is only which direction you go in.

But actually I’ve found roomier jackets and coats are less likely to need alterations even if you get smaller. Partly this is because the change is less noticeable – tension lines from being too tight are more obvious than a little excess from being too loose.

But also I think it’s because roomier jackets are already made – in their cut, in their structure – to look good when roomy, so a little more room isn’t a problem

Anyway, one for another piece perhaps and certainly the input of a tailor or two.

The last thing we need to mention is the price, which has risen from £7500 (including VAT) when I had it made in 2019 to £8500 today. That 13% increase is pretty much on a par with other bespoke tailors, but remains a very large amount of money.

As I said in the original article, it’s hard to make any kind of case for spending that on a coat, except that if you are going to spend it, this is exactly the kind of workmanship and taste you should expect. It remains better value than the designer brands that can each similar prices. (And it’s still less than Liverano…)

Style breakdown:

Shoulder width: 6½ inches
Shoulder padding: Light
Sleevehead: Moderate roping
Lapel width: 4½ inches (SB, notch lapel)
Gorge height: 4½ inches
Outbreast pocket height: 11½ inches (shoulder seam to bottom of pocket welt)
Buttoning point: 194½ inches
Back length: 44 inches

Other clothes shown:

Permanent Style ‘Finest Crewneck’ in navy
Hermes silk stole
Whitcomb & Shaftesbury bespoke trousers in Fox Flannel
Cleverley bespoke black oxfords

Cloth: 90% wool, 10% cashmere; 986021 from Holland & Sherry

Packing for travelling between seasons: cold then hot

Posted on 10/01/202510/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

Packing for travelling between seasons: cold then hot

Friday, January 10^th 2025Tags:

63 Comments

When I travelled to Thailand last month, I had a slightly different packing challenge to usual: in London it was eight degrees (celsius) with cold drizzle; in Bangkok it was 30 degrees and balmy.

Now I wouldn’t be outside in the UK that long on the way to the airport, but it would be long enough. And I didn’t want to be that guy walking to the airport wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a panama in winter.

Another wrinkle was that I had less room in my suitcase than usual, because I was carrying stock to give to the guys at Decorum. I had to be even more efficient with my packing.

In terms of occasions, I needed clothes to host an event for readers, something else smart for visits and dinners, and perhaps more relaxed clothes for a day off and travel.

My first thought was to find some way to combine clothes for colder and warmer weather, but in similar colour palettes so everything was interchangeable. This would allow me to swap things during the journey, and create other combinations when the need arose.

So I went with a white/black/olive colour combination, and the smart version of that (pictured above) was:

PS olive linen overshirt
Thom Sweeney cream knitted-cotton T-shirt
Black linen trousers from Whitcomb & Shaftesbury
Black Piccadilly loafers from Edward Green

This was nice in the Thai heat (though it was, apparently, cool for the time of year) and did well for walking around shops and galleries, as well as for a couple of relatively casual dinners with the team.

I would normally have worn Sagan shoes from Baudoin & Lange with this kind of outfit, but the Piccadilly loafers were able to bridge this outfit and my evening suit.

Then there was a more casual and warmer option, in basically the same colours. This (pictured above) comprised:

Vintage M65 field jacket
PS white tapered T-shirt
Black Bryceland’s jeans
Loro Piana Sea Sail boat shoes

The advantage of everything being interchangeable was seen at various points when I swapped the field jacket for the linen overshirt, for example, but kept everything else the same. And swapped the boat shoes for black loafers in the evening, so it was a little smarter.

For travel from the UK, I wore this outfit but with a grey PS Cashmere Rugby underneath the field jacket. This was warm enough, and the Rugby was nice on the long flight.

I also wore a PS watch cap (black) and an Arran scarf (charcoal), both of which could easily be removed once I was in the airport. Things that can be easily removed like this are the best for transitioning between temperatures.

The Rugby, in the same way, was removed and hung around the shoulders once I arrived in Thailand. The field jacket was of course perfect for travel, with all its multifarious and poppered pockets.

You can see these various pieces in the picture above - the standard one readers will now be used to of everything laid out on my bed. It’s useful for these articles, but it’s also how my brain works through the various combinations.

The only change I made (there’s always one, always last minute) was taking the field jacket instead of the Anderson & Sheppard chore coat you can see here. This was the right choice I think - the A&S one was wool and would have been too hot, even if it would have been nice to have another colour to play with.

Oh, and the grey cashmere crewneck was swapped for the Rugby. The grey work shirt you can see at the top and the olive Dartmoor on the right were alternatives to wear with the brown suit.

The black alligator loafers (vintage Polo) were what I ended up wearing with that suit, but could also have been worn the other pairs of trousers. This is always a nice thing to have - if you’re tired and on your feet all day, it’s nice to be able to swap shoes in the evening, or avoid wearing the same shoes two days in a row.

The suit is a new one from Cifonelli in a superfine wool. I’ve never really had anything in a superfine, and indeed recommend against it for readers that are just starting out. But I decided to try this as an experiment.

I’ll cover it at a later date, when I’ve put it through its paces.

The other things pictured or shown on the bed are:

Brown linen shirt from D’Avino
Vintage gold-rolled Caravan sunglasses
Clan Milano sunglasses, via Connolly
Vintage silver navajo cuff
White handkerchief from Trunk

In terms of bags I used my normal Rimowa check-in case and carried a Connolly 48-hour bag for the journey, which fits very pleasingly over the suitcase’s handle.

Having deposited the linen overshirts with Decorum, I wore a super-soft old Big Mac denim shirt on the way home, having bought it at the vintage shop Wooden Submarine during our shopping trip on the Sunday.

Nice to have the change, and nice to have the half-empty suitcase.

Thank you to the Decorum team for everything - the event we held, and my reflections on my short time in Thailand in general, have been covered here.

The PS Linen Overshirts were with Decorum in Bangkok and are now in the Singapore store, to allow customers to pre-order them ahead of our delivery in March. Anyone local, do pop in and have a look.

A Neapolitan ‘caban’ coat, from Luca Museo

Posted on 08/01/202510/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

What is a ‘caban’ coat? Well, it's meant different things at different points in time, but it has a particular meaning as a sartorial version of a pea coat in Naples.

The caban was originally something European sailors called a coat they saw being worn by Barbary pirates (or corsairs). The corsairs’ word was ‘qaba’ and it was more of a cloak-like piece they wore at sea.

European sailors wanted something similar, but they turned it into a fully buttoned coat - and this was the origin of what we know as the pea coat, whose name came from a Frisian word for the cloth.

Pea coats, or reefers, became common at sea from the 18th century onwards, as European navies introduced uniforms and the coats proved to be so practical. There were different versions over time and between navies, and officers often had longer or more elaborate versions (eg with gold buttons).

This history is why the term ‘caban’ is still used for a pea coat in some places, including France (any local readers, do fill us in on this). But as I said, in Naples the caban is a bit different.

These things are never as universal or consistent as we want them to be, but in general a Neapolitan caban is a more sartorial version.

The obvious difference is that the button configuration is more similar to a double-breasted coat. It looks like a regular 6x2 set on the front (six showing, two of those buttoning) but actually all three rows button, with the lapel curving outwards to make this possible.

There’s then a single button underneath the collar, to fasten it, similar to many polo coats. So there’s basically one row of buttons missing compared to a pea coat, plus one less on the top row.

The pockets are also usually more like a tailored coat.

Pea coats nearly always have slash pockets - diagonal ones to stuff your hands into easily - and no breast pocket. A Neapolitan caban has the typical ‘barchetta’ (boat-shaped) breast pocket of a tailored coat, and then flapped or patch pockets on the hips.

The collar and lapels are smaller, with a smaller wrap - more similar to an ulster. And there are often some sartorial details, such as extra pleats in the back and hand-sewn finishing.

I’ve heard different reasons why the Neapolitan caban exists and is popular, but one that certainly makes sense is that it’s rarely cold enough to wear a full coat. A shorter one gives you all the warmth you need - as well of course the enjoyment of wearing a coat-like outer layer.

Above is one made by Sartoria Solito, for the shirtmaker Luca Avitabile.

The Luca Museo one I had made is a little different, most obviously in the hip pockets, which are flapped, slanted and add a ticket pocket. One of the staff at Luca Museo worked at Sartoria Pirozzi in Naples, and it’s this they make for their clients in Korea and elsewhere.

Other versions in Naples vary more substantially - Sartoria Ciardi, for example, makes a caban that's single-breasted and has more of a shirt collar. The only things it really has in common with the others are the blue colour and shorter length.

When I visited Seoul last year, Luca Museo (above) were keen to make me a couple of things to show what they could do - this and a navy suit. As I made clear when I reviewed that suit, however, these were things they wanted to make their way.

Those long, slightly thin flapped pockets are the design point I would change on my caban coat, certainly now I’ve worn it for a bit. I don’t think I’d go for patch pockets - like the Solito - but I’d probably choose more regular, straight flaps.

The material of my one is a thick wool, which is lovely, but it is black. That’s not something I’d naturally go for, but given I’ve never had a black coat before, I'll wait and see how I find it with other things in the wardrobe.

The brown-corozo buttons Luca Museo chose work surprisingly well: I wouldn't normally pick mid-brown to go with black. But that might also be something I change in the long run.

Elsewhere though the coat is beautiful. The fit is great - the suit they made was very big in the chest and shoulders, but this is more moderate. And the other thing I’m hesitant about with Luca Museo, their pick stitching, is less prominent here on the dark, thick material.

It is lovely having a more casual piece like this made bespoke, as you really notice the three-dimensional structure. It feels moulded. I think that’s probably the thing I’ve appreciated most since wearing the coat.

By the way, apologies for the darkness of the images - the light was going quickly that day, despite being barely 3pm. That's the problem with shooting in winter. Hopefully you can still make out the details.

The other clothes are:

A black Rubato lambswool crewneck
PS black watch cap
PS natural Arran scarf
Brown flannel trousers (Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, Fox cloth)
Dark-brown suede boots, Galway from Edward Green

Price: $2,800. More on Luca Museo here.

Suits and shirts: A sliding scale of formality

Posted on 06/01/202506/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

We haven’t done one of these in a while, but a reader requested one in a comment on the ‘How to pick shirt fabric’ article, and it reminded me how useful people find the sliding scales.

The idea is we break down two categories of clothing in terms of how formal the types are, and then pair them up, helping readers understand what contributes to formality and how the two go together.

The first one back in 2008 looked at trousers and shoes. It broke down the different types of trouser material from worsted to denim, and suggested what types of shoe - from an oxford to a deck shoe - were most suited to them. When you’re first starting out, formality ideas like this are often a good thing to work through.

There was an update to that piece in 2022, where we expanded the range to look at shoes and tops alongside trousers. And there was one on hats and coats, plus of course the related ‘Which office are you’ series.

Formality is only one small part of what makes clothes go well together, but as that recent comment showed, it’s one readers still struggle with. So here’s a new one - as requested - looking at shirts and suits.

Below is a basic categorisation of different suit materials, in order of formality. Then there’s one of shirt fabrics, again in order.

Following this we have a matching of the former and the latter, using their numbers and letters to show which goes with which. Then there’s the wonderful world of all the many and varied caveats.

Suit materials

Superfine wools / mohair
Other smooth, business worsteds
Serge / coarser worsted / high-twist wools
Flannel
Linen / smooth cottons / seersucker
Corduroy / tweed

Shirt materials

Superfine cottons / silk
Poplin
Twill / cotton/linen
Linen / brushed cotton
Oxford
Denim / Chambray

Suggested combinations

1 : AB
2 : ABC
3 : BCD
4 : BCDEF
5 : BCDF
6 : DEF

So this pairing suggests that a suit in something sharp like a superfine wool or mohair (1) is best matched with either a similarly silky shirt material (A) or a cotton poplin (B) - probably the smartest of cotton shirtings.

If any of these terms aren’t familiar, by the way, they are all explained in the Permanent Style guides The Guide to Suit Cloth and The Guide to Shirt Fabric.

Unlike previous articles, I’ve done these combinations by matching each suit to several shirt fabrics, showing the range of suitable options. This could of course be reversed by starting with the shirts.

This is a more helpful way of explaining things than trying to match one for one, I think. It also shows how little of this is a question of hard lines - everything is rough and, at the edges, sometimes a question of personal preference and style.

Now the caveats. The big one is that there are lots of subtleties and sub-categories that we cannot include without the list becoming unmanageable.

A royal oxford fabric, for example, is actually very smooth and smart. ‘Oxford’ just refers to a weave, and what yarn you weave it with makes a big difference. But we cannot include more without the list losing its ability to communicate.

And anyway, the point of the article is not for readers to go away and use this as a checklist to literally pair each fabric together. Instead, it is one way to understand the principles of what makes something smart or casual - its smoothness, its texture, its shine - and then apply those to any such combination.

It doesn’t matter that royal oxford isn’t in the list. Because once a reader understands the existing pairings, they can look at a royal oxford and see how much smoother and finer it is than a regular oxford, that it’s probably nearer to a twill in terms of smartness.

Here are some other useful caveats:

Colour and pattern make a big difference to formality obviously, and we haven’t covered those. More colour and more pattern are generally more casual
The same goes for design. A spread collar is smarter than a button-down, a double-breasted suit is usually seen as smarter than a single-breasted
The list doesn’t include jackets, but it wouldn’t be hard to do something similar. I might put wool/silk/linen alongside serge, for example, and cashmere alongside flannel

And some observations:

Linen suits I find interesting, as they seem to have the widest application - I’d wear everything with them from poplin to denim. Perhaps it’s because linen feels like a material that is trying to be smart, but just has to make sacrifices for the heat
Season is another variant not considered here, and is the only reason I wouldn’t pair a linen suit with an oxford shirt - just because there isn’t a summer version on that formality level
Associations like this make such a difference. For example, we associate barathea with a dinner jacket, and perhaps covert cloth with country clothing. Yet the latter is in some ways a smarter material, given its sharpness
By ‘smooth cottons’ I basically mean, not corduroy. As with everything there are many sub-categories we can’t include, such as moleskin, brushed twill cottons and so on.
To me the separation between poplin and twill shirt fabrics is understandable but sometimes unhelpful. Both vary so much in their fineness, as well as colour, pattern and so on, that it’s something I’ve found readers get too hung up on.

I could go on, but that would take away the fun of letting readers pick their own holes in all of this. I’m looking forward to it. I think.

Campbell’s of Beauly: Keeping Scottish tradition alive

Posted on 02/01/202502/01/2025 by Simon Crompton

Thursday, January 2^nd 2025Tags:

If someone were to tell you that there was an old tweed shop in the Scottish Highlands, Campbell’s of Beauly is exactly what you’d picture. An old stone building, worn wooden shelves, stacked with dozens of bolts.

There are similar piles of tweed caps, shetland jumpers and brightly checked blankets. Stuffed birds, old gun cases and other shooting paraphernalia fill the gaps. It feels like it hasn’t changed in the 150 years since it was founded - and it hasn’t much.

Interestingly, the thing that has changed is that the owners - John and Nicola Sugden - bought it in 2015 when it was slowly drifting into obscurity, and transformed it into a stable business. There used to be a lot more places like this in Scotland, but now this is pretty much the only one left.

It says something about the lack of authenticity in retail today that those stuffed birds and old gun cases remind me a little of the things shipped in to decorate a new pub, or indeed a new branch of a country-inspired brand.

But there’s nothing inauthentic here. Campbell’s has been outfitting people in the area since 1858, and is still doing so. People come for caps, for bags, for shooting vests and plus-fours, and much of it can be made by a bespoke team in the workshop.

These kinds of activities are becoming increasingly dominated by tourists, especially Americans - that’s a live subject in the Highlands - but Campbell’s also supplies the people that work on the local estates, and take the tourists around.

It’s natural that I - and I think most PS readers - would react positively to this kind of place, where heritage is very much underplayed rather than overplayed.

Oh, and of course, it helps that they had the Royal Warrant for the Duke of Windsor.

John’s family were historically weavers in Huddersfield. After college, he did an apprenticeship at Johnston’s of Elgin, spending two years in the mill itself before moving into sales.

“Campbell’s was one of the places I sold to back then,” John (above) says, “but if I’m honest I found it a little boring. I could see the character, but it was very different to the modern shops I was selling too around Europe.”

It was only after leaving Johnston’s, and a few years at Mackintosh, that Campbell’s of Beauly came up again - this time at the suggestion of his father. “At first I couldn’t see the appeal, but Dad presented it as an opportunity, as somewhere with a lot of tradition that hadn’t been changed in a long time.”

Campbell’s was owned by three siblings, descendants of the founders, who were all in their seventies. “They were wonderful,” says John. “They gave us three years to buy it out, and they were keen to sell to a family, to someone who would live above the shop. I still have lunch with James [Campbell] most weeks.”

Change came slowly, and it took John and Nicola four years to get the shop to break even. One of the things they did early was streamline suppliers.

“Campbell’s used to work in a very haphazard way, which was quite standard then,” John says. “For example they bought knitwear from every mill in Hawick, which made for scattered stock. They’d phone around and see who had navy V-necks when they needed some, for example, even if the details were all different.”

That was the case with ends-of-lines as well. It was normal to buy several different shades of grey gloves, for example, because they good value. “You can do that in a shop to an extent, because people can see what they’re buying,” says John. “But it can’t work online.”

It’s the online business in the past few years that has really been transformative.

“Marcus at Nitty-Gritty in Stockholm was a good friend - I used to take my squash racket over when I went selling, and we’d play together,” says John. “I remember him saying to me, be careful with online, because it’s not as easy as everyone thinks.”

He meant things like photography, customer service, and returns and exchanges, all of which require investment. John did that, and this year online will account for 50% of the Campbell’s business, from less than 10% at the start of Covid.

“The great thing about this is that we sell all year-round,” says John. “Because the Highlands are cold, we can sell knitwear all the way through the summer. Spaniards and Italians come to escape the heat at home, and even if it gets to 20 degrees in the day, it drops right down in the evening.

“Then in the winter, the shop is quiet, because nobody comes here. Large parts of the Highlands shut down for tourism. But we sell online to everywhere else.”

I personally bought some gloves, a headband and a beret for my wife and daughters when I visited Campbell’s last month, and I can attest to the quality. It’s all solid, traditional stuff, often made in Scotland, and fairly priced.

The tweed you see when you enter the shop - sitting on shelves that somehow are actually 150 years old - is largely estate tweeds, so heavy, bulletproof stuff designed for the Highlands. (See tweed guide here for more on the different types.)

Some of them are exclusive to Campbell’s, but many are not. “We do small pieces with Lovat, and I go to every archive sale to get old bolts,” says John, “but we’re not big enough to buy full exclusive pieces.”

I found most of the colours and patterns too rural for me (not surprising, given they’re not aimed at a city-dweller like me) but I did have a jacket made out of Saxony tweed 82053, which proved to be very nice. That’s it pictured below, made by The Anthology.

John is also adding more shetlands - softer, lighter tweeds - to the range. “Locally, people want the estate tweeds but online it’s different,” he says. “There they’re more likely to want things for making with their tailor in London or New York.”

The bespoke workshop at the back of Campbell’s uses these tweeds to make country clothing to order. It’s run by Lara (above), a cutter whose background is in theatre and runs a team of five (including one intern).

It’s proper bespoke, but their strength is things like kilt jackets and plus-fours, rather than the kind of suits we normally cover on PS. It is decent value though - jackets start at £2000, plus fours at £750.

Kilt jackets is what Campbell’s makes for King Charles. The company has a long historical connection with Balmoral, and had royal warrants from the Queen Mother as well as the Duke of Windsor when he was Prince of Wales. The King likes to spread things around though - his kilts are made by Kinloch Anderson and his socks come from elsewhere too.

It helped put the new Campbell’s on the map immensely when the King opened the new workshop in 2019 (below).

John and I talked a fair bit when I was up there, and we chatted on the phone again for this piece. I realised one reason I wanted to support Campbell’s so much was that we both know traditional makers that are going out of business - and that this was one that has been saved.

“It’s scary Simon seeing how many mills and other suppliers of ours are in trouble. Demand is not always the problem either, it’s the fact people don’t want to go into the business. I love a hand fashioned shetland, with the V-neck put in by hand and the saddle shoulder. But people don’t want to offer that anymore, because they can’t rely on the labour,” says John.

“It’s got so bad that it’s made us think whether we need to start some old machinery ourselves, just to keep it going.”

Of course you, dear readers, are unlikely to be in a position to go to Scotland and become a mill worker, but you do know the value of this craft and what happens when it’s gone. So please do support Campbell’s and other places like it whenever you can.

Merry Christmas 2024!

Posted on 25/12/202425/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

Be a patron

Posted on 23/12/202423/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

A friend of mine has been into menswear since he was a teenager. He obsessed over three-piece suits with collared waistcoats, dreamt of visiting Savile Row, and for years sought out second-hand bespoke online.

He briefly worked in menswear, and began to access these kinds of makers. He made the same kinds of mistakes we all do of course - everything too bright, everything too much - but he got to know some of them personally as well, and found a deeper appreciation of the genius of some, the sheer hard work of all.

In the past five years or so, my friend has become more successful professionally. He left menswear, he’s making more money, and he doesn’t yet have the commitment of children. His disposable income is higher and he is deliberately revisiting some of those artisans, in order to buy wonderful, long-lasting things from a very small number of them - always at full price.

He is becoming, I thought recently, a patron.

A patron can be a very rewarding thing to be. You spend the money you have on people you know deserve it, and together create beautiful pieces of craft. You use them every day, and both your experiences are enriched by the value you place on them.

You bring the clothes (or shoes or leather goods) back to be repaired. You make comments on how they’ve worn, and how you have worn them. You talk to the maker - whom you know fairly well at this point - about the world you move in and who else appreciates these things, what others wear and why.

The relationship is interactive, and that is powerful - both financially and creatively.

Financially, it gives the craftsman a consistent income, which is often all he wants - a reliable way to do the thing he loves. Bespoke makers often say that big orders from rich people (Middle Eastern royalty often) are what make them money. But it’s the regular, long-term customer that holds the business together.

And creatively it’s powerful too. Tailors used to be kept on their toes by their knowledgeable clients. Here’s a misquotation from a half-remembered conversation I remember having with John Hitchcock of Anderson & Sheppard (above, left) about 15 years ago:

“Customers used to be so much smarter back then, Simon. They would always be dressed up, really the most elegant men in the world. And there was always this interplay between the customer, our front of house, and us [the cutters].

“The customer would observe a fashion, and make a suggestion during a commission. The salesman would be instinctively conservative of course, but perhaps they’d make an adjustment - certainly they would take it all in. Little changes happened, both to keep up to date and to enrich the house style, to deepen it, all within that little nexus.”

Now I write it down, it doesn’t sound anything like John. But I clearly remember the point he was making: stylish, consistent customers are just as important to a tailor’s style as the people selling it (the ‘front of house’).

The problems these days of course are manifold. People don’t use one tailor, or buy as much, for as long. Style has expanded and fractured. Consumers are less educated about clothing. The idea of the designer (or rather today, a corporate brand) telling you what to wear is the norm. The idea of anything being interactive is alien.

But it's still possible to be a patron. - to support artisans through what you buy and how you interact with their creator.

There’s another reason I was thinking about this recently.

I get regular questions from readers asking how they can get into menswear. The growth of ‘influencers’ and start-up brands has given the impression this is an easy thing to do, or at least very possible.

The vast majority of people who work in menswear do so in a shop, and spend long hours standing on their feet, straightening shirts and folding sweaters. Or they’re online, answering customer service emails. Or they’re in the basement, packing orders and receiving crumpled returns.

Menswear is hard. Many brands fail. The ones that are successful have often been plugging away for years. PS was going for a decade before it started making real money; Aimé Leon Dore is 10 years old, not new; Buck Mason is 11.

If you have a dream, please follow it. But there is also a good alternative - be a patron.

Pursue your professional career and make good money. Use that to buy a house, have a family and so on. Then use your disposable income, whatever it might be, to support makers you like, and establish relationships with them. This is so undervalued, and so powerful.

It’s easier with artisans, but even with brands the chances are you’ll get to know the managers and probably the founders. That’s the great thing about classic menswear - it’s so small.

These days, if you wear the clothes well, chances are you’ll get a following on social media and brands will ask you to appear in their shoots or campaigns as well. There’s always a lack of good people for that.

I know it’s easy for me to say all this. It’s not what I did, and now I can tell everyone else how hard it is. But I mean it about a dream - if you do have one, do follow it. Just remember that it isn’t the only way to be involved in menswear, in a rich and rewarding way.

Being a patron is fantastic - I’ve met many over the years, among which the great, late Edmund Schenecker was a favourite. But you are all patrons right now, as PS readers, given how you interact with clothing.

I'd say value that, and deepen it.

Pictured, from top to bottom: Sr Francesco, Charvet, The Tailors Symposium, Sartoria Melina, Musella Dembech, Philippe Atienza

The menswear and culture of Bangkok

Posted on 20/12/202420/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

I was in Thailand last week, holding an event at the shop Decorum, and I have to say I was impressed with the local menswear culture.

I’ve travelled a fair bit round east Asia, but not much in the south-east – just Singapore many years ago. Frankly I didn’t associate Bangkok with menswear – I’d think of Singapore perhaps, then skip over most of the rest onto the likes of Hong Kong or Seoul to the north and Australia to the south.

But the city is really open and international, distinct and cultured, and has some good shops (including strong vintage), a couple of decent local tailors, and a lot of PS readers.

Speaking to those at the event, I learnt that business dress is pretty casual here - few people wear a suit, preferring a shirt and trousers. The weather doesn’t help of course, but fewer people wear tailoring than in Japan (which is also very hot and humid in the summer) or Hong Kong.

Yet there is of a culture of dressing up. It’s more common for people to dress up to go out here, to have dinner at one of the luxury hotels perhaps, than in somewhere like Singapore.

Decorum has a shop in Singapore too, and I spoke to the manager Charles about this: “Singapore is more dressed down, the norm is T-shirts and flip-flops,” he said. “Despite being a rich city it’s a harder market for us in many ways than Thailand.”

Bangkok is growing fast, particularly in luxury malls and the brands that come with them. Decorum started in 2017 but has expanded into six shops around the city, with a seventh opening in the new One Bangkok development next year.

The original shop was modelled as a townhouse, and both it and the Singapore branch still feel that way. But the newer branches - including the one we were in - are largely in those new malls. Decorum also branched out into areas like women’s clothing and fashion brands, to cover more of the local market.

Trunk shows have always been a big part of the business model. Decorum were the first to do them in both Bangkok and Singapore, and they now do two or three every month - Singapore did 22 last year. The ones in Thailand include Husbands (who were very popular), J Mueser, Ascot Chang, Yolo knitwear, Igarashi trousers, Sartoria Raffaniello, Assisi (Decorum were the ones that introduced me to them) and Bryceland’s.

Guy and Ball - the co-founders - asked me to bring out something from the PS Shop that local readers could try, so I brought a set of the Linen Overshirts, which seemed practical for the local weather and (being a lot colder in the US and Europe right now) not many other people are looking at.

Among other good shops in Bangkok are Pronto - which is the biggest workwear retailer and has several branches - and the various vintage places.

Bangkok is a big vintage centre, and one of the prime places Japanese dealers come to source pieces to sell back home. The best ones, such as Wooden Submarine, make most of their money this way.

You can see why, as the prices here are less than a third of what you pay in Japan or the US. Though the quality is also more mixed - you pay for someone to find the prime pieces as well as to import it to a shop near you.

After Submarine we visited Memories Brand, the beautiful and unusual Overall Days - which specialises in women’s and children’s vintage - and a big market known as the ‘Red Building’.

This is a multi-floor market with a mix of vintage watches, clothes, and furniture, and then a big flea market outside as well. The clothes floor has almost 50 shops, with some specialising in military surplus, others in band tees, others in sunglasses, and two or three with very high-end Americana.

I bought a couple of things, including a beautiful Big Mac denim shirt and an old camp blanket (I love how soft those things are). But there were ‘big E’ Levi’s in some of those stores for £200, for example, compared to something like £900 in Japan.

It never fails to amaze me that there are so many readers around the world getting both enjoyment and advice from Permanent Style. It was wonderful to meet those in Thailand, and I felt both honoured and humbled.

Thank you to Guy, Ball, Krittanan and everyone that helped with the event. And to Ethan, Janet and Cici for keeping me company. Hopefully it won’t be too long before I come back, and I can see much more of the country.

On the clothes pictured: I’ll do a separate post on those, so please leave questions until then. Thanks.

Learning lessons: Light-grey overcoat and horsebit loafers

Posted on 16/12/202417/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

I had this overcoat made earlier in the year by Sartoria Ciardi from Naples, but have only had a chance to wear it consistently the past few months. The cloth is CT17 from Fox - a 20/21oz wool in their overcoatings bunch.

I was confident of the style, as it was the same as the taupe ‘British warm’ I had made with Ciardi a few years ago - the original review of that is here.

But I was a little unsure about the cloth. Not the weight or the quality necessarily, but the colour. The weight is light at 20oz, but it felt like it had enough heft. And the quality seemed pleasingly tweedy without actually being a tweed - and so could bridge smart and casual.

Perhaps I should use a word other than ‘quality’, actually. When people in the cloth trade refer to a ‘quality’ they mean a particular type of cloth - a yarn, weave, weight and finish, varying only then in colour or pattern. But of course that’s not how normal people use it, so perhaps I should call it the ‘type’ of cloth. Anyway, the type seemed nice and has proved to be so.

It was the colour that has proved tricky. My thinking was that I didn’t have a grey tailored overcoat, and if there was any hole to fill - in anyone’s wildest definitions of such a thing in my wardrobe - that was it. But I didn’t want a grey herringbone, like our Donegal or English Tweed coats.

This grey twill (the diagonal lines of the weave) looked nice. There was a little brown in the colour mix, the melange, which would add some warmth and make it less formal - good with black and cream jeans, perhaps even dark indigo, and great with all shades of brown.

This subtle design is the kind of thing Fox Brothers are particularly good at, by the way, and is an example of when I’m happy to pay their higher price. It often makes for cloth that’s both interesting and tasteful, and it’s not worth sacrificing that for a couple of hundred quid in saving.

When this coat was made up, however, the grey was a little lighter that I’d expected. It wasn’t hard to find a combination it looked good with - the tonal Scandi one here, all beige and brown, is typical for me and lovely - but it wasn’t that versatile.

With dark suits it stood out too much. With more rural colours like burgundy, forest green or a warmer brown, it was too smart and cold.

Interestingly, my Saman Amel coat (below) is a similar tone but I find it easier to wear, perhaps because it’s completely unstructured and more casual.

I also think the Ciardi is a little harder to wear because the colour makes its dandyish details stand out - the martingale back basically, with its half belt, box pleats and the buttoned vent. The Saman one is plainer.

This experience is the opposite of the Ciardi taupe coat (below). That turned out to be more versatile than I thought, as despite not being a classic navy, grey or charcoal, it worked with a wide range of outfits, including the tell-tale test of black and brown shoes.

The lesson there is probably that how light (in colour) a material is, is more important than whether it’s a slightly unusual colour, like taupe.

I also struggled with button choice on the light-grey coat. My instinct was to avoid contrast, so I initially chose a light-brown horn.

But these stood out too much, so next time Ciardi visited, I had them change them to dark brown. In retrospect this should have been obvious, given I knew how well dark brown worked on the Saman coat.

I guess the lesson is the similar to the one about overall colour - if in doubt go with darker buttons, even if it means higher contrast.

Let’s be clear - I still really like this coat. I wear it quite a lot and really enjoy doing so.

The material (the ‘quality’) is really nice - it is the perfect mix of smart and casual that I hoped. According to Fox, this is typical of west-of-England cloth - hard wearing but with slightly milled finish.

The colour just means that it isn’t something I’d recommend to readers as their first one or two coats. (There is of course a whole article here on making that choice.) It works for me, as I already have lots of more versatile options. But it might not for others so much.

The shoes, by the way, are vintage horsebit loafers (I'd guess from the early 90s). I’m still not sure of the horsebit style, but I picked these up for $40 at the excellent Alfargo’s Market Place in New York, and buying cheap second-hand is a nice way to experiment.

Trying horsebits is evidence of Lucas’s influence, and I do wear a lot of black loafers, particularly with a low vamp. So perhaps these will work out well - they just might be better with a relaxed warm-weather outfit than a wrapped-up winter one. We’ll see.

I don’t find I ever stop learning. I know I dress better than I used to - the trendline is definitely up, even if the data can look a little scattered. And anyway, life would be pretty boring if there were nothing left to learn.

Other clothes shown:

White Permanent Style oxford button-down shirt
Fawn Rubato V-neck lambswool sweater
Brown flannel trousers, Fox cloth, from Whitcomb & Shaftesbury
Californian model sunglasses, EB Meyrowitz
Old Ralph Lauren cap

Métier: A fashion bag brand, but with quality and functionality

Posted on 13/12/202414/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

There are a few reasons why I think the bag brand Métier might appeal to PS readers. Let me set them out in typically geeky PS-style.

First, they don’t have any branding. The prices might be fashion-brand prices, but there’s no big name stamped on the outside - the identity comes from the colours, that diamond-shaped hardware on the women’s line, from some distinctive designs.

Second, they are well made. The construction in Italy (Florence and Naples) is very good and uses precise thicknesses of leather to keep the weight down. The leathers are high-end, often unusual, and age well - this is not the fashion norm of corrected grains.

Third, the design is deliberately practical. The bags nearly always have a magnetically sealed pocket on the outside for quick access, plus a zippered one for security. There are multiple internal pockets. In fact I don’t think I’d ever use all the card and pen pockets most bags have.

The brand started 10 years ago and has had a London shop since 2017. The founder, Melissa Morris, is American but wanted to open in London partly to be closer to the makers in Italy. The brand is also planning on opening in New York.

The shop on London’s South Audley Street is beautiful: wood-panelled with hidden cupboards to echo a Riva boat, subtly branded with things like a diamond-shaped table. But given the luxurious décor, and the lines of tourists outside brands on Mount Street around the corner, I can imagine a classic-and-craft-driven reader being a little sceptical.

Which is why I led with points about the product. This is very much a product-driven brand.

Fashion brands don’t tend to include stories about how products age. Partly that’s not what people want, and partly it’s because they don’t have good stories to tell. But Métier do, even if they don’t put them front and centre.

I saw the shop manager’s handbag when I visited, several years into its life, and what looked like an almost patent leather had softened into a surface with a subtle, varied texture, which was much more rich and personal.

One of my favourite materials for the men’s bags is buffalo. Melissa used buffalo leather because she wanted a fine, irregular grain but didn’t want to stamp a pattern on, as most brands of that ilk do. I also like the ‘Elvis’ leather (above), which is the same but with a waxed finish, giving it a more glamorous look but one that also softens over the life of the bag.

There’s a good article here on the Métier site actually that looks at some of those making details, and the idea of journeys that drives a lot of the functionality.

Not all of the designs are my style. I find the backpacks a little too delicate and the big zips on something like the Vagabond are too prominent for me.

But all of them are interesting - striving to be new on well-trodden ground - and there are everyday classics in there as well. The Closer All Day (below) is as good a briefcase as you’ll find, filling that gap that men often struggle with between an old-fashioned flapover case and a simple tote.

My other favourite is the Nomad, which in its smaller size also fills a gap I think - one between a briefcase and a weekender; not so small as to be dinky but not so big as to quickly become heavy.

In some ways, the women’s bags are actually more classic than the men’s - often because they’re simple and clean.

The Vérité (above), for example, doesn’t read as feminine to me despite its slim handle. It just looks a little fancy. It’s only when the women’s models have more hardware on the outside - like that lozenge closure - that they start to look feminine. And even then I know guys that would love them.

Something like the larger version of the Private Eye (below) looks like quite a traditional men’s style, but the silhouette and the lines of the outer pockets have been redrawn, making it look fresh.

In fact this is probably the crux of the issue - the thing that would push someone to spend the big tag of £3000 on one of these bags.

Traditional men’s bags are great - they’re strong and they age well and they’re good value - but they can feel as if no one’s rethought them in 100 years. That makes them heavy, sometimes impractical (eg an attaché) and obviously very traditional in style. Men’s bags rarely get the design attention that these Métier ones have.

Everything from the colours to the travel cubes has been thought through with a particular use case in mind. Those travel cubes are expensive too, but they're lightweight, practical and tasteful, such that I’d still be tempted to get one to put in another bag.

New style means unusual style, and Métier won’t be for everyone. In fact in many ways the brand is more Paris or Los Angeles than it is London, despite the shop being here. It’s more refined and obviously luxurious.

I’ve had quite a few questions from readers about Métier in the past year, which I think shows there is interest in new bag brands like this. Interesting high-end men’s offerings are pretty rare.

If I had to choose, I’d get a Closer All Day in the black buffalo (£3,150) or the impressively subtle racing green. I love the fact that the latter looks almost black but it's not. It’s perfect for the guy that wants the formality of black but feels that’s a little boring or corporate.

Or I'd get the smaller size of the Nomad (£2,890) in a dark suede, chocolate or khaki. Those colours aren’t available at the moment, but are coming back apparently. The Nomad I’d use every day as a commuter bag, but it would have more room for clothes samples, a little gym kit and so on.

It says something for the taste level of Métier that all these colours work with the purple 'Amarone' lining used throughout. It shouldn't work with everything, but it does.

metier.com

Bryceland’s made-to-order chambray shirt: Review

Posted on 11/12/202411/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

Made-to-order services are useful with workwear shirts, where bespoke makers can rarely replicate the construction or the materials. We covered one such service recently, from The Anthology, and today we’re reviewing another, from Bryceland’s.

I should say, by the way, that in that Anthology review I didn’t mean to directly compare the shirt with my bespoke ones. That would be unfair, as this system offers something much simpler, cheaper and quicker.

I had a couple of comments from readers about this, because I used a bespoke shirt to find out what my ideal measurements would be - and see how close I could get with the Anthology MTO. I still think that’s a good way to work - to pick your best-fitting shirt and measure it when you’re picking adjustments in an MTO system - but I wanted to emphasise that I wasn’t saying the Anthology fell short in not replicating a bespoke fit.

Now, on with Bryceland’s.

I’ve always liked Bryceland’s shirts, yet often found the styles didn’t quite work. Ethan* tends to favour more original, authentic designs rather than completely reworking them, and it was often these elements that stood in my way.

For example, early on I owned both the Teardrop (top image above) and the USN chambray (second image above). I wore them both but over time less, especially with tailoring. I found the longer collar of the USN better with a jacket - and on me more flattering - but liked the design and material of the Teardrop more.

These points are largely subjective of course. Which design you prefer is entirely subjective, and different collar styles - especially heights - work better for different people’s body shapes.

When I was talking to Ben** in the London store a couple of months ago - actually about their MTM tailoring, which we covered recently - he mentioned that they could make a shirt to my preferences: the USN collar on a Teardrop shirt.

Now that doesn’t mean you can chop and change everything on a Bryceland’s shirt. The style still has to be retained. But there’s more flexibility than you might think, particularly given how closely they work with the manufacturers.

The same goes for fit. You can change shoulder width, body length and sleeve length, but you can’t make the body shape very different, or add darts for example. This is a work shirt though - it shouldn’t be that tailored.

In my case, I know that most of the time I’m a standard size in the chest, shoulders and sleeve length of a shirt, but a size down in the collar and waist. So I tried the Teardrop and was, as predicted, a Large in those first things and a Medium in the others. We put in an order for the shirt in those measurements, with the collar swapped for the USN one.

Ben also suggested raising the height of the collar slightly and so we added half a centimetre there. This was felt to be still within the existing style, as was the new collar.

The resulting shirt was exactly what I ordered. It might seem odd to say that, but as we all know it’s not always the case with bespoke makers.

The result also illustrates, I think, the power of making simple changes to existing garments, rather than starting from scratch. The gap between expectations and result - often the biggest issue with bespoke - is narrowed from both ends.

The collar on the shirt felt a little long to start with, probably because I was used to it in the softer USN material. But after wearing it with a jacket for a while the collar moulded slightly, getting a subtle ‘S’ shape and looking a little shorter as a result. It also fit nicely under a tailored jacket.

The colour will fade a little with repeated washes, which will make it nicer I think. I enjoy the construction details on the teardrop as well - as it says in the product description, it’s a work shirt from a time when even the most robust clothing still had charm in its design. (Such as the little pleats on the back, shown above.)

The only small issue I had was a little shrinkage, around 1cm in the sleeves after three washes. This is tiny really, and certainly within the tolerance for any fabric supplier, but when I make another one I’ll likely err a little longer than shorter. Easier to shorten if I need to.

(The chambray/linen, by the way, definitely has more shrinkage than the plain chambray, and I’d ask advice there on how much extra to have to account for it.)

Prices for MTO shirts are generally around 20% more than the RTW. My shirt was £269. The linen/chambray is a little more as it’s a more specialist cloth. Delivery times are usually 4-6 weeks.

Other clothes shown:

Jeans from Rubato
Jacket bespoke from Ciardi, in Anglo-Italian cloth
Brown suede belt from Rubato
Watch from Cartier, Chronoflex in yellow gold

*Newton, co-founder **Chamberlain, London store manager

August Special: Innovative, rugged boots and loafers

Posted on 09/12/202411/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

August Special is a new shoe brand - they launched online back in May - and it’s an interesting proposition I think. Comfortable versions of traditional shoes that have more style than most in that combination, and rugged styles that are actually made in a refined way.

The reason the design is good is that the founder, Joseph Pollard (below), is very experienced. He’s been a menswear designer for more than 20 years, primarily at Polo Ralph Lauren and RRL, where he ran the outerwear and accessories/shoes categories at different points.

He’s English and worked for Duffer of St George among others in the UK, before going to the US to work for Abercrombie and then Polo. He made a lifestyle change in 2019 when the family moved to Philadelphia.

“I took a little time off, maybe six months, while the kids got settled in school,” he says. “We’d made one major move before - to the US from England - and I knew how hard it could be. But after that I started thinking about what I wanted to do next.”

Joseph wanted to do something he believed in, made on his own terms, which is of course a very Permanent Style-type motivation, tying together many brands we cover. Joseph is, like many of those, a product person first and foremost.

The first product he created, the Augie loafer, came from a desire to make a tougher and more comfortable version of Belgian loafers he had worn in New York. “We moved from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side when he had kids, and I used to wear Belgians all the time,” he says. “I knew the shop, and I’d walk to the office in them.

“But when we moved to Philadelphia, that didn’t really work. I’m sure people do wear them here, but that’s more of a country-club set than we are! Basically I couldn’t wear them to Home Depot - the city would just chew them up.”

He’d also never been much of a fan of the Belgian Shoe’s little bow. “It’s too fancy for me. My wardrobe is a mix of tailoring and workwear - jackets and denim, chambray shirts and loafers. You can do that look with a dressy slipper, but it’s not my style.

“By the way Simon, that might seem a very current look but the Duffer guys were all doing it back in the day - their standard was a Crombie coat, jeans and a good shoe.”

OK, so what makes the Augie (and the chukka boot, the style I own, above left) interesting?

The first thing is the last. It’s based on old 40s and 50s shoes, which had a slightly more orthopaedic shape, curved on the outside line and straighter on the inside, with a narrower waist.

The example of this that most readers will be familiar with is the modified last from Alden. But while that can look very unusual, August Special is more moderate. I find it both very comfortable and not the kind of thing anyone would notice.

The emphasis on comfort goes through into the construction too. The insole has a full-length piece of memory foam, which your foot sinks into in a satisfying way. The midsole on the loafers is then a piece of sports foam, wrapped in leather. That’s what you can see between the sole and the upper in the pic below.

At first I wasn’t sure about the way that sole looks, but I like it more now I appreciate the functional reasons. I also like the fact it’s not the same rubber unit that everyone in the world is slapping on suede loafers, trying to be an Open Walk or a Belgian with very little extra to offer, other than perhaps cheapness.

The sole on my chukka boot is a more standard Vibram and there isn’t that extra foam in the mid-sole, but I’ve still found it more comfortable than any other chukka I own. I’m not so keen on the contrast between black rubber and natural leather in the sole edge and heel, but that’s a personal preference and will darker over time. Darker suede or leather options would have less of a contrast.

The design is based off boots issued to US Navy pilots, who presumably had a functional reason for the lower height. I wasn’t sure about that height to start with, but I rather like it now. I’m not sure I’d have it as the default for my chukkas, but it seems part of this boot’s style and character.

The other thing that’s interesting is August Special’s combination of rugged and refined.

The chukka’s upper is one piece of full-grain leather, unlined, with a supporting piece around the heel. The thickness of the leather gives it a rugged look, but the quality of it means it’s soft and comfortable - more so than the thinner leather on an Alden chukka for example.

The make is very good, benchmade in Tuscany close to the area the veg-tanned leather, laces and other things come from. The welt is slim for example, cut close to the upper and running 270 degrees around the boot rather than 360 (so not including the heel).

Personally I don’t think these points make the boot any less rugged, just less chunky in shape. I’ve only worn them with jeans and workwear chinos so far, but I can see how this style might enable them to be a little dressier - with tailored cotton trousers and a cashmere knit for example.

The loafers didn’t quite work for me - I seemed to be in between sizes, and while the lacing of the chukka made fit easier there, the loafers had no such luxury. Still, Lucas has a pair and they work really well for him. There are other versions of the loafer coming in the future too, so I will try those.

The thing I love most about the August Special shoes, though, is how good they look beaten up. When Joseph came into the pop-up shop in New York recently, that was the thing I liked the most. It’s his look of the loafers with workwear chinos and a loose chambray or white oxford shirt that really appeals to me, I feel would be relevant for a lot of readers.

I also saw a pair of chukkas on Sean Crowley (an old colleague of Joseph’s from Ralph Lauren) and they looked fantastic. I can’t wait for mine to get to that stage.

augustspecial.com

Some facts in anticipation of questions:

I wear an 9.5 (US) in the chukka, but was between 9.5 and 10 in the loafer. My standard now in something like Edward Green is 9E (UK). August Special only comes in an E width
August Special is only sold online at the moment, and is based in the US. There is no wholesale at the moment, but that might change in the future
The boots are Goodyear welted and can be easily resoled. The loafers are Blake stitched and are harder - August Special has no current solution there but is planning to offer a resole service in the future, including on those
The shoes are all made in Italy

The chukka boots are being restocked in February

Christmas Gift Guide 2024

Posted on 06/12/202406/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

This is always fun. Each year the gift guide is an opportunity for me to mention non-menswear, or at least menswear-adjacent, products and brands. And given PS readers are fussy (perhaps we should we say discerning?), it also necessitates unusual or at least mildly surprising choices.

This year those choices seem to be rather expensive; perhaps the eye has been a little too greedy. But they are all beautiful and special, worthy of attention and a place in that discerning home. Next time we’ll err more towards the affordable. Probably.

By the way, the nature of classic menswear means that most of the things listed in previous gift guides are still available - so do browse those if you haven’t before. Search for ‘Christmas gift’.

Sulka gold keyring

$550

Le Combray is a small vintage shop in Hong Kong, known for the very high-end pieces they have from French makers, such as Arnys and Charvet. But while the supply of those has slowed down, it’s still worth keeping an eye on. Following them on Instagram is probably the best way.

This keyring, from the legendary Parisian house Sulka, looks ingenious, simple and beautiful. If I didn’t already have a keyring, I’d buy it. In fact I’m going to guess there’s a good chance it will have sold by the time you read this, given the enthusiasm of readers for such things. But you never know.

The Real McCoy’s deerskin gloves

£180

We’ve covered makers of fine, smart gloves fairly extensively, but little that’s heavy duty. And just like I don’t wear my flannel trousers to the park at the weekend, I don’t put on hand-sewn peccary to take my daughter to the playground. There’s too great a chance I’ll be given a pile of wet leaves to hold as part of some inscrutable game.

These Real McCoy’s ones are what I wear, because they’re still high quality but made to be tougher than dress gloves. They’re described as motorcycle gear but they don’t really look it, and anyone that knows leathers will appreciate how nice deerskin could be on the skin.

Lorenzi Milano warthog tray

€525

Lorenzi is probably be the perfect place to source luxurious presents for a PS reader. Everything is beautiful, responsibly sourced, made in Milan, and the sheer size of the range means there will be something they don’t already have. That shaving kit shown at top is one of theirs.

My eye is on one of these trays though, as we need one for taking food or drinks into the living room or bedroom. You can go for a simple shaving brush though, or something weird and just plain evil-looking, like the oryx shoehorn.

Métier wine-bottle carrier

£590

We’re going to be covering Métier in detail soon, but the thing that I like about them is the combination of quality and functionality, in what could appear to be a pure fashion brand.

This wine-bottle carrier has all those qualities - top-quality materials (calf leather, alcantara, water-resistant linen) in a functional design, designed to meet a particular need. One for the guy that already has everything (probably a fair few PS readers).

Royal Mint ballpoint pen

£395

The Royal Mint - the actual company that makes coins in the UK - has shifted focus since people largely stopped using coins. Now it sells collectibles and has a jewellery company, 886 (the year the Mint was founded). There’s a shop in the Burlington Arcade.

This all feels rather weird - like the Prime Minister selling you earrings - but one advantage the Mint has is its machinery, which allows it to forge silver rather than casting it, as most companies would. This makes the metal 30% denser and harder wearing (like a coin). If the jewellery appeals, that’s a nice point of difference. If not, this pen they did with Yad-O-Led is something I have and also a nice gift.

Johnston’s cashmere hot-water bottle

£225

I don’t really use hot-water bottles, but everyone else in my household does, and a good cover is apparently crucial. They’d never buy a cashmere one like this, but if I can afford it maybe I’ll get one for them. Something you’d never buy yourself is always a nice reason for a present.

Johnston’s has just opened a new shop in the Burlington Arcade too by the way, which is welcome, as the previous one was way up at the top of Bond Street.

La Bowtique bow tie

£190

Something else I can imagine a reader not buying for themselves is a really good bow tie. After all, they’re unlikely to wear black tie that often, and everyone else will be making do with a cheap ready-tied one.

I’d argue a one-piece, well-tied bow tie really makes an outfit, however, given its prominence. A good one would be from La Bowtique, particularly if the style is picked to suit the face of the receiver (perhaps include a gift receipt so they can swap for another size or style if they want to).

Edwardian diamond and enamel cufflinks

£1,650

One way to get really precious, unique and often good value jewellery is to buy it vintage. My favourite place in central London for this is Gray's Antiques Market, just by Bond Street station. It feels incredible that this kind of place still exists so centrally - that it hasn't been developed already into anonymous flats or an LVMH brand.

This is a lot of money to spend on cufflinks of course, but surely cufflinks these days are special-event jewellery, no day-to-day accessories. If so, they should be this special. Most men won't wear more jewellery than a watch, cufflinks and a wedding ring, so they can be special.

What Frasier could teach us about dressing today

Posted on 04/12/202404/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

Every evening, our family goes to the living room after dinner and watches an episode of a sitcom together. My wife, me, and my two eldest daughters all on the sofa. It’s lovely family time and now such a tradition that no evening feels complete without it.

It’s been going for ages - over the years we’ve watched every episode of Friends, Doctor Who, Scrubs, Frasier, Blackadder, Parks & Recreation, Seinfeld and at least a couple more I’m forgetting. We’re currently halfway through Bob’s Burgers.

It was this that reminded me how much I liked the way Richard dresses in Friends, and wrote about it here. Last year the same thing happened with Frasier, and I meant to write about it at the time - but forgot.

Fortunately, the outfit below I featured recently brought it back. That jacket and trousers with the dark shirt felt very Frasier to me - particularly the shirt, which he wears many dark versions of throughout the series, with and without a tie.

Frasier - the character, not the series - is an interesting illustration of several menswear styles that I think are very relevant. I’ve explored each one in turn below, with an image each time to illustrate.

I think it’s good to highlight things that don’t work as well, so I’ve done a shorter list of those. Often the issue is that things are little too unusual or too period.

I won’t comment on the other characters because Frasier is the most interesting. Niles is more conventional and his interesting points are often repeated by Frasier anyway. The other characters are only occasionally relevant.

If you want a much fuller breakdown, however, I recommend Ethan Wong’s article here, for which I am also indebted for its trawling of images. Oh, and we’re only talking about the original Frasier series by the way. The new one is nowhere near as good.

1. Brown tailoring

Throughout the seasons, Frasier wears a lot of brown, green and other earthy colours in his tailoring, as well as more sports jackets (in contrast to Niles). This means the outfits are often useful for suggesting ways to pair these earthy separates.

Sometimes he wears them with grey trousers (top image), which would be my default (though Frasier usually uses sleeker fabrics - no flannel) but other times it’s brown on green, on beige, on taupe, even on a different brown.

Sometimes this muddiness can go too far, as in the second image above (perhaps deliberately going to a level of caricature) but the shirt, cardigan and trousers are a really interesting combination. Also, note the taupe trousers Niles is wearing. Taupe like this is such an underrated odd trouser.

2. Red/brown shoes

Frasier doesn’t really dress that formally, at least by the business standards of the time. This is why there is less navy and grey, but less obviously, it’s also why he can wear shoes that often contrast with his trousers.

The rule of thumb we all know is that shoes should be darker than trousers. That’s a good starting point, it’s smarter as well as easier, but of course it’s not the end of the matter. Shoes that contrast slightly can be interesting and characterful - it’s just harder to pull off.

Frasier does this well throughout, often pairing his trousers with shoes that are a ruddy shade of mid-brown. In the image above he's wearing them with taupe trousers, but he wears them with trousers that are darker than the shoes as well.

Given few of us wear ties or handkerchiefs (or indeed cardigans) in the way Frasier does, it’s all the more useful having some interest in the shoes. I did something similar with browns in this outfit, but lighter trousers would be easier and present more options.

Wearing a belt in the same colour takes the look a step further - it makes it more noticeable. You may or may not want that.

3. Dark shirts

Frasier’s most striking tendency is to wear dark shirts in a variety of colours - grey, green, brown, burgundy. Well not that dark, but certainly darker than the white, pink or blue we wear most of the time.

This is not an easy thing to pull off, and looks much more striking with a tie. But if you’re interested in this I’d suggest starting with more muted and easy options (as always). So a mid-grey or a light taupe perhaps. Work through some combinations you like with your existing tailoring (probably start with brown) and only then venture into something more unusual, like the green I’m wearing in that outfit above.

There are interesting parallels here with Lucas’s article about ‘stimulating’ shirts. I think the difference reflects something about the ways we both prefer to dress - Lucas likes to play with a little more colour and pattern, whereas nothing makes me happier than sludgy colours that all play nicely.

4. Pinstripe shirts

As discussed in the guide to shirt style, a shirt with stripes that are thin and widely spaced apart is usually called a pinstripe. Because, obviously, the pinstripes on a suit are usually a little far apart too. If the stripe is a little thicker, it’s a pencil stripe.

Frasier and Niles wear a lot of these - it was a big thing at the time, often associated with Armani (which the brothers namecheck fairly often) but sold by many others as well. My father had a few.

I think it’s a nice option with and without a tie. Without a tie, it provides some much-needed interest; with one, it’s easier than a denser or stronger stripe, but it’s still not a plain.

5. Collared knits with tailoring

Frasier’s casual wardrobe is a little hit and miss (it reminds me of the casual section in Dressing The Man). But one look he does consistently well is collared knits with tailored trousers. It’s instantly more relaxed, a man-at-home look. But because he retains the sharp trousers and leather shoes, it’s smart too - a good example of that casual chic thing we often talk about.

The knits can be in different colours, and this is an area where it’s easier to wear things like burgundy and shades of green I find. I like the black above, but then I would.

Also, Frasier clearly knows that things with a collar look better on him, as is often the case with men and particularly those not in amazing shape. So when he’s very casual, he might wear a T-shirt but there’s an overshirt too (images below). The few times he doesn’t wear a collar are when he wants to look depressed and down-and-out (a ratty old sweatshirt, poorly fitting jeans and chunky trainers).

He also does collared knits well with tailoring.

What I don’t like

Now, in much less detail, here are the things I don’t like, and perhaps readers shouldn’t emulate. Pictures of some of them below the list.

Long jackets. The suits are big, but the thing that really makes them stand out is how long they are. Move with the times, of course, but avoid these kinds of extremes.
Low buttoning. This is also quite pronounced and makes the lapels longer still. As we trend in that direction, it’s good to have an example of how to go too far.
Sloppy trouser hems. Basically, trousers that are too long as well. I can see the appeal of a nice big break at the front and clean drop at the back, but often there’s distinct puddling.
High-buttoning cardigans. Sleeveless cardigans make Frasier look most stuffier than anything else, but they can still be nice. The high-buttoning ones look a little too unusual to me and are even less flattering.
Mock necks. Not often seen, but he wears these as an alternative to collared knits now and again. The collars look so much better.
Short shorts. The image below obviously exaggerates this, but it’s rarely a flattering combination on someone of Frasier’s build - the large upper torso, with sweater vest, and the shortest shorts. Something just a little fuller and longer would make a big difference.

The case for the ‘stimulating’ shirt

Posted on 02/12/202402/12/2024 by Simon Crompton

By Lucas Nicholson.

Whilst nattering away to Simon as I usually do on one of our days working together, I mentioned I had a revelation recently.

In my past life at Drake’s, I always favoured slightly eccentric tailoring (cream cord suit anyone?). But I’ve recently found my tailoring commissions have become more subdued (bar one fairly lairy Fox Tweed from Fred Nieddu; I am human after all!). My last two commissions were a classic-navy lambswool suit and a khaki cotton-linen.

Maybe it’s not working at a brand anymore, maybe I’m just getting older, but fun tailoring just isn't landing for me as well.

The same applies to shirts. I’ve settled into a comfortable rotation of OCBDs in PS cloth from either Jake’s or Luca Avitabile. They’re amazing, make getting dressed a breeze, and allow for versatility. As Simon mentioned in The Italian Background this clean, smart uniform is a calling card for anyone trying to navigate the world of style without drawing too much attention to themselves.

Sometimes, though, there is an itch… For me, that itch has been scratched by experimenting with more interesting shirts instead of suits. It’s fun, an under-explored are in my view, and a lot cheaper than doing the same thing with tailoring.

It began with the purchase of an old Armani Collezioni blue-striped shirt on Vinted. Subtle in colour but slightly bolder in its stripes, it had a soft collar and quickly proved to be an effective partner for loafers and tailored trousers, for an evening drink or cocktail. I’ve found it has a purposefulness that shows you’ve made an effort, but without going over the top in terms of dandyism or formality.

The fun shirt, as most menswear enthusiasts will know, is that preppy staple which mixes several patterns together in a single shirt (one more eccentric thing I’m guilty of having, indeed having multiple times, in my life).

So perhaps we should use the term ‘stimulating shirt’ instead for this idea - for a shirt that makes an outfit, that breathes new life into a classic navy suit. A shirt that can give the same sense of excitement and adventure as bold tailoring, but is easier to tone down and definitely costs a lot less.

Commissioning a suit these days, whether MTM or bespoke, is increasingly expensive. The cost therefore also grows of falling into the trap of getting something that turns out to be too loud. Such pieces also stand out more and you become “the guy in that jacket”. So I’ve been tumbling down the rabbit hole of the stimulating - or simply interesting - shirt.

Historically, it appears the last time this was really a trend was in the nineties. It had a ‘Cool Britannia’ vibe when worn by Hugh (first image above) but was equally popular with a hellraiser like Peter O’Toole (second image). My thought that this could make a comeback was further stimulated by the recent lookbook from Michael Browne, featuring a blood red shirt with his signature sharp black tailoring (last image).

I’d suggest something can be borrowed from interior designers and their ‘unexpected colour theory’. This advocates “adding something, big or small, to a room where the colour wouldn’t conventionally match. It’s a colour pop, but with a twist of spontaneity…this surprising touch of colour enhances the overall aesthetic, providing a delightful dose of dopamine” (Taylor Simon). I feel we can all do with a top up of dopamine right now!

A stimulating shirt is less of a risk than a new suit, travels smaller, takes up less room in the wardrobe, and can be easily covered by a jacket if you suddenly stop feeling as confident as when you left the house!

Skin tone is important here of course - as Simon wrote a couple of years ago, colour theory becomes much more relevant when colours are strong and close to the face.

But everyone can find their own level here, and what fits their own wardrobe. It might be a pop of Yves Klein blue, a deeply saturated red, or unusual but tonal stripes, such as those offered by the Florentine tailors Speciale in Notting Hill (above).

I also find unexpected patterns and colours are a helpful way to transition a formal look to a slightly more laissez faire, laid-back one. And if no one’s wearing a tie anymore, it’s just nice to have something else going on.

The stimulating shirt can also be a cheaper way to create less formal black-tie outfits (oxymoronic as that sounds). I’ve been looking at pale-coloured dress shirts, and imagine my nineties Armani tuxedo with a pleated, lavender shirt and large, floppy bowtie. It would be a way to stand out without splashing thousands on a new smoking jacket.

Most readers will probably have something in their closet that they commissioned as their more ‘novel’ suit - that, sadly, they tend not to reach for. (Simon, I’m looking at you and your purple Liverano). I imagine the guilt of a wasted commission staring them in the face, goading them into trying it on again, for the umpteenth time, and yet still not quite making it work. To them I say: a shirt stares you in the face a lot less, and is easy to hide in the back of the wardrobe.

There is one big caveat to all this: taste is still a factor, and you can go too far. This is only my opinion but I think we need to leave the flamboyant Dad shirts of the 90s/00s in the past. You know the ones: floral prints, coloured buttonholes, contrast colours on the inside of the collar. But is this just a British thing?

In my experience it’s best to start with stripes. I would recommend avoiding florals and checks, at least to start with. It is possible to make these look good, but it’s much harder in my experience, so if you’re interested in this area I would start with stripes in subtle, muted tones and then build upwards.

Below are some examples I’ve found that are available now, and that I think would be a suitable stimulating shirt to elevate a classic wardrobe. From top to bottom:

A nice washed-out red with an interesting stripe option from LEJ
A new one from Aaron Levine for Drake’s
A fun colour which would pair well with navy from J Mueser
Or this gorgeous bordeaux tonal coloured stripe from The Anthology

Let us know whether you wear patterned shirts like this (particularly outside the summer) and with what tailoring.

Is there a ‘crew’?

Posted on 29/11/202429/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

Looking back on it, I think I found the first few years of doing PS as a full-time job quite lonely. It’s hard to make friends with anyone in the industry when you’re constantly commenting on them publicly. The kind of person I was interviewing was also generally older than me, and we didn’t have much in common.

I felt quite a lot of personal pressure to make it successful - I’d quit my career of 15 years, and had two children and a mortgage to support. The site had a good foundation, but it always felt as if something (Instagram, TikTok) was threatening to sweep it all away.

It was really nice, therefore, when Lucas (below left) started working on PS four years ago. It was only part time, but it was lovely to have someone to involve in every decision - as well as to just say everything was going fine (which of course you always know, but it still makes a difference when someone else says so).

Actually, there’s actually an interesting body of research around the benefits of talking to someone - anyone, even an orangutan - about the things that chase themselves round the inside your head. Even if it’s something as sophisticated as a scientific theory, forcing yourself to communicate can spark connections that you would never make on your own.

Lucas has now taken on more days, and Manish is contributing regularly. Manish also runs social media and is involved in a lot of the events.

Add to that the regular photographers Alex and Jamie, and other contributors like Aleks (below) and André, and there is something of a ‘crew’ - as one reader put it recently.

I’m closer friends with several brands too. Oliver and Carl from Rubato came up recently, but there are half a dozen others. I’m not sure why that has happened now - maybe because we’re more similar ages, maybe because doing our own products means we have more in common.

It’s been so lovely. I enjoy my job today more than I've ever done. From the outside you often think it’s the nature or profile of someone’s job that makes it enjoyable, but in my experience it’s more the people and the place - the day-to-day experience.

I rarely do trips on my own anymore. When we go to Pitti, Lucas and Alex and I usually stay together. When we do the pop-up in New York, it’s with Oliver and Carl. It makes the trip actually, really enjoyable. Not just tiring and a bit lonely (missing my family) but ‘worthwhile’. Actually fun.

After 17 years of doing Permanent Style, I don’t think I can thrash myself in the same way I used to. I can’t take cheap flights at bad times, eat cheaply, never take a taxi. Maybe I don’t have the stamina for it; maybe I’m finally giving myself a break.

Today I’m appreciating all these things that make me happy. Going for a run during Pitti rather than feeling I have to socialise every night. Learning how good Swedish people are at table tennis, as Oliver (below, centre) and Carl casually suggested a game at Cellar Dog in New York and then utterly destroy us.

A more substantial point here is that PS still remains as independent as always. Friends know what PS is - as a service, as a business - and they respect me and it too much to ask me to cover something I wouldn’t otherwise, or cover it more favourably.

They know that I will like some things they make, and not others. They know that that’s how PS works, and what so many readers find valuable about it.

From the outside this could seem like a hard balance to strike, as you want your friends to do well. But I find good friends always have that kind of honesty and understanding.

Interestingly, I find friends also appreciate how the PS business model has evolved over the years. They know we promote hundreds of brands for free, and that advertising is a harder revenue source to generate than ever - as big brands prioritise ‘influencers’ and small ones go direct to the consumer.

Selling our own products - which will always be sometimes adjacent to theirs - could be an awkward topic, but I’ve consistently found that people who know and understand PS also get the dynamic.

Until the day we start selling every basic known to man, shouting about 'cutting out the middle man', and conducting Black Friday sales, I think that’s likely to continue.

Much has changed in the 17 years since PS began. I’ve gone from being someone very much on the outside of menswear to someone on the inside, not just as a journalist but as a designer too.

But the loveliest aspect of all of it has been the group of intelligent, interesting, kind - and yes, very stylish - people I’ve got to know. I dearly hope I get to carry on working with them for many years to come.

Colour images: Jamie Ferguson, from our Anniversary Open day. Black and white: Milad Abedi, from our Anniversary Dinner

Reader profile: Pedro

Posted on 25/11/202425/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

Pedro is a reader in New York - one I’ve known to say hello to, but never really had a long conversation with. It was lovely doing so a couple of weeks ago. He’s thoughtful about clothes and his relationship to them, self-aware yet also a real menswear guy in terms of knowledge and research.

We talked about his family in Puerto Rico and how their approach to clothing affected him growing up - plus what his mum thinks about his Sagans when he goes back! He's also definitely the only reader to have told me Permanent Style reminds him of Roland Barthes.

I hope, as ever, that you enjoy the conversation and find it both interesting and useful. A quick search can bring up the rest of the reader profiles if you want more.

Outfit 1

Suede overshirt: Drake’s/Hodinkee
Cotton overshirt: 18 East
Jeans: J Crew
T-shirt: Lady White
Boots: RM WIlliams
Cap: Western Hydrodynamic Research
Sunglasses: Lesca

What do you do for a living Pedro?

I work at Hodinkee, selling watch and jewellery insurance. But I come from a film and video background - I studied it at grad school and one of my favourite previous jobs was transferring Super-8 and 16mm film to digital.

I came to New York hoping to be an artist I guess, but there’s a connection there with watches, in that the relationship between analogue and digital always fascinated me. Even though my career has changed quite a bit in the past 15 years, I think that’s carried over.

What did you do when you first came to New York?

I worked in a restaurant to earn money while I was doing other film jobs. The pizzeria I worked at is where I met my wife, who's now a full-time photographer. Eventually the needs of a modern life caught up with me though and I needed to earn more - I’m 40 next year, and we have a three-year-old son.

When did you first get into clothes?

That’s hard to say, it’s been a while. But certainly I started looking into it more in the 2000s, back when silhouettes were much slimmer! I remember going back to Puerto Rico to see my parents around 2004, when I was still in college, and finding this amazing suit in a department store called Marshalls.

I think I talked about this once on Permanent Style actually. The suit was a tweed three-piece from Ralph Lauren Purple Label, grey herringbone with a subtle purple overcheck. It had patch pockets, swelled seams, and was reduced to something like $99.

It looked so cool, and I remember saying to my mum it was what I wanted for Christmas. She didn’t believe I’d wear it, but it did so well - I wore all three pieces separately, the jacket with slim selvedge denim and black Converse, that kind of thing. I wore the hell out of it for 10 years.

When did you start spending more money on clothing, and tailoring in particular?

That was when I got married, in 2017. J Crew was the main place, for their clothes but also they had brands I got into like Alden, Red Wing. Though I was never really a big Red Wing guy; RM Williams was more my chunky boot.

In fact there’s a specific origin story there. When I was in a film class in college - in Appalachian State in North Carolina - we had this professor called Leon Lewis. He grew up in the seventies and was originally from Buffalo, New York. He was a great beatnik character.

You could always hear him coming to class because he wore these RM Williams that clip-clapped down the corridor. He wore perfectly fitting jeans with a crease down the middle, tortoiseshell glasses, a little moustache and a kind of weird mullet thing. It sounds odd but trust me he pulled it off.

So he got you into RM Williams?

Yes and I remember him talking about them actually. He boasted that he walked 20 blocks in New York City one day in the rain, in these leather-soled Goodyear-welted shoes, and no water got in. I’m not entirely sure that's true, but the way the boots embodied how he projected himself really stayed with me.

As I get older I think about these things more - about how I want to project myself. I'd like to be someone that clearly cares about finer things but isn't too stuffy about it.

What are you wearing in this first outfit?

So that’s the Drake’s suede chore they did with Hodinkee, worn over an 18 East overshirt and a white tee from Lady White Co. Lady White are my T-shirt of choice at this point, they’re good quality, don’t shrink, and are very consistent from season to season.

18 East is a company I really appreciate for their fabric choices, but the style is more streetwear generally. I saw this overshirt on a colleague though and I thought the style and the fit was very wearable.

And what is Western Hydrodynamic Research? Sounds like a biolab!

Ah, yeah it’s this surf company from California, they’ve done a few collaborations with streetwear brands, the name is a reference to surfing I guess. I liked the five panel construction with that little pinch at the top, it felt rather vintage.

Outfit 2

Jacket: Proper Cloth
Shirt: Wythe
Trousers: Natalino
Shoes: Berwick
Sunglasses: Lesca
Sweater: J Crew
Watch: Serica

You mentioned your family are from Puerto Rico. What was clothing like there, was your Dad an inspiration?

Yes my interest in clothes definitely owes a lot to my parents. My father’s a banker and when I was younger he wore a suit every day. Now he wears separate pants, maybe a crisp white shirt; in Puerto Rico you don’t need a blazer or suit necessarily, but he’d put one on for a meeting etc.

When I was younger he always looked great: high-waisted trousers, pleats on everything, but also loafers without socks. He’d take me to Joseph A Bank and buy Cole Haan loafers, that kind of thing, and I’d think they looked great.

My parents tease me about it today, but it all came from them. They love to get dressed up. I’m not sure if it’s a Puerto Rican thing or a Hispanic thing, but people there definitely like to dress up for an occasion - not necessarily formal, but just look nice for going out for a cocktail, or for a meal with their family.

That’s certainly something that seems to have been lost culturally in a lot of places.

Absolutely. I think a lot of it is around events - it was certainly a Roman Catholic thing, as we would all go to church on Saturdays, all dressed up for that, and then either go our or come home. But even at home it was an event, all of us around the table. I have very fond memories of that.

Do you overdress a little, maybe reaching for that kind of thing?

Like a lot of menswear guys I guess. I’ll ask my mum when I’m coming back to Puerto Rico whether I can wear a double-breasted blazer to something and she’ll say no, that would look odd. And when I go out with my wife, I like to get dressed up and she has to rein me in, saying we’re not going to a gala!

It’s definitely a case of looking in the mirror before I go out and thinking what’s one thing I can take off, that I don’t need.

Where is this jacket from?

The jacket was from Proper Cloth, the first thing they made for me. It's wool and linen; I thought it would be a kind of summer tweed, but it ended up a little heavier than I expected, so I wear it more in spring and autumn. It's nice, breathable and with some good natural stretch.

My only regret there is I didn't make the lapels wider, which I didn't realise I could do at the time. They're still good, three-and-a-half inches I think, but I'd like them wider.

And you're a pretty broad-chested guy, so three-and-a-half inches is less on you proportionally.

Yeah, true. Then I'm wearing a Wythe chambray shirt and trousers from Natalino - they fit me really well. The tote bag is an LL Bean and the watch is from Serica. I got my first Serica in 2019, after having vintage Seikos in the past but getting frustrated at vintage, the time and cost of looking after it.

I liked the fact the Serica was manual wound, I like that connection to the mechanism. They're all automatic now.

Outfit 3

Jacket: Drake’s
Shirt: Wythe
Jeans: J Crew
Shoes: Berwick
Belt: Velasca
Sunglasses: Lesca

What do you wear for work?

I work from home quite a lot, but make sure I go into the office two or three days a week. At home I wear leather slippers, jeans or drawstring trousers in like a heavy cotton from this US company called Battenwear.

Then I’ll wear a T-shirt, an overshirt, and put on some Belgian loafers if I’m going out. I’m perfectly comfortable doing that. Although this relaxed look can definitely go too far - I remember once going out to the neighbourhood in a Camber hoodie and sweatpants, and it felt so odd, like wearing my pyjamas outside.

It was around the time Aimé Leon Dore started becoming big and their ads were so good, with that look and New Balance. It made me think about it again, want to experiment, but no it did not work for me.

Do you wear a lot of Belgians?

I do now, yes. I used to wear loafers a lot but I’ve gradually switched. The first ones I had were from Crown Northampton, I couldn’t ever stretch to the original Belgian Loafers. But then Baudoin & Lange came out with their ones and they were a bit more accessible. And I have since bought Berwicks - those are my default now - as well as Yanko.

I wear them all the time, even when I go back to Puerto Rico - my mother asked what they were the first time and I was like ‘they’re Belgian loafers - Dad wears loafers, they’re just like them’. My wife doesn’t mind them, but she definitely thinks I have too many at this point!

Berwick is sold through the UK site A Fine Pair of Shoes. They’re great value, with a good leather/rubber sole that I’ve found is very resilient. Yanko is another Spanish brand, and probably made in the same factory - they have the same codes inside.

Unfortunately I fell over in the Yanko once and thrashed the outside of them, taking off a lot of that top layer of deerskin. Fortunately I seem to have brought them back to something decent with Saphir Renovateur.

So this outfit with the Belgians is pretty typical?

Yes, those are the Berwicks, worn with a Drake’s Games Blazer, a chambray shirt from Wythe and jeans from J Crew. The chambrays from Wythe fit me perfectly in large, even the sleeve length, so I have several of them. Once you get something that really works for you, it’s worth having a few.

I like the combination with all the blues - is that a common combination for you?

Yeah it’s pretty common. Before I got into menswear I was very much a navy-blue kind of guy, and I don’t wear black that often, so blues work well. It’s nice to do something a bit more interesting and have different shades. This is the kind of outfit you could wear anywhere in New York City and not feel underdressed or overdressed.

I know the Instagram account you run, Studied Carelessness - is that just a personal account for outfits and things, or are you trying to do something different with it?

It started it in 2018. I actually had an Instagram account before that was little videos based on two artistic ideas: Kino-Eye, from the film director Dziga Vertov, and Readymade, from the artist Marcel Duchamp. I called it Kino-made. It was films about that idea of living in a ready-made environment.

Anyway, that didn’t really take off, but I’ve always been interested in the theory. In fact some of the inspiration came from the French writer and photographer Roland Barthes as well, and I think Permanent Style has done something like that - taken an academic approach to clothing but in a contemporary way.

The problem with Style Forum and other sites is that they’re rarely looking forward, only to the past, and so they become archaic and then costumey. You don’t want to step out of your house in New York in 2024 and look like a character from a Dickens novel. You want to look like a contemporary person, just one who knows clothes and has his own sense of identity.

Pedro is @studied.carelessness on Instagram

He also occasionally writes on his Substack

Simon’s sizing advice (winter)

Posted on 22/11/202422/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

Every six months, I forget what it’s like to run the pop-up shops. They’re only four days each (London and New York) but they’re so intense, just talking to people non-stop for eight hours, giving advice and fetching sizes. I don’t know how salespeople do it.

I also find I repeat the same advice again and again. People’s main concern is sizing - usually they understand the product itself, but they want to come in and check the size. So I repeat the same things about sizing up or down, what I wear personally, and when the choice is about style rather than being right or wrong.

I thought it would be helpful to write all of this advice down while it’s still fresh in my mind. Some of it is already on the shop pages of the various products, but not all. And it will be useful to have it all collected in one place.

If you have any other questions that you think I haven’t answered here, please do ask and I’ll include the answers. As ever, PS pieces never get old. They just mature.

For reference, I am six foot (183cm) tall, with a 39-inch (99cm) chest and am relatively slim (34 inch/86cm waist). Manish, the other person pictured, is wearing the same size as me.

Donegal coats

Size I take: 4 (Medium)

The Donegal coat - our take on a classic raglan-shouldered overcoat - is designed to flow and drape. It’s worse to have it too tight than too loose. If readers are between sizes, I advise them to size up, especially as it’s easy to shorten the sleeves or the body, but pretty much impossible to reduce the shoulders.

Having said that, I often find people can wear two sizes. One will be a more traditional cut - looser, can be thrown over anything - and the other will be contemporary, cleaner and neater. It’s a style choice. I’d still say size up if in doubt, and I’m a solid 4 (a 5 is OK but a little too much towards big and loose) but remember there is a style element here as well.

English Tweed

Size in take: 4 (Medium)

The English Tweed coat is modelled off a 1980s belted DB, and is meant to be loose and low slung. A different style to the Donegals, but the advice is similar: if between sizes, size up. You want it to feel roomy, to be able to layer big knits, and be able to button up under the chin.

Interestingly, I can wear a 5 in this. The reason is that the waist can be cinched, unlike the Donegal, so even if it’s roomy on the shoulders, it doesn’t have to be that much bigger in the waist.

Wax Walker

Size I take: 4 (Medium)

This is probably the most straightforward of the coats. Anyone around my chest size, who would wear a 40-inch jacket (50 in European sizing) will be a 4/Medium, and then each size up is equivalent to two inches (42 is Large, 44 X-Large and so on).

The only complication with the Wax Walker is that you have a removable flannel liner, which you will sometimes use, sometimes not. If you find the jacket a little snug with the liner in, that’s OK, as some of the time you’ll take it out.

Also, like the English Tweed, the waist can be cinched (this time with an internal cord), so you can use that to make the coat a little smaller when you take the liner out - or wear it with a knit rather than a jacket. In the shop, people rarely realise this and we also make them try it cinched and uncinched.

Bridge Coat

Size I take: 5 (Large)

And this one is the hardest to fit. Basically, the Bridge Coat can look amazing because it is made with a slim waist and wide shoulders; if you’re slim it works really well. But if you’re not it can be tricky.

Most of the time we advise people to size up, and I do these days. I used to be able to get into a 4, and that’s what the original photos show, but I’m a little bigger now and prefer a little more space as well. Check the measurements, as always, but you’ll probably want a size up from your other coats.

Rider’s Raincoat

Size I take: Medium/38

This is the opposite shape to the Bridge Coat: slightly narrow in the shoulders, big and A-line in the body. The mistake people often make in the pop-up shop, is they don’t use the belt to cinch the waist in the back. This is how you give the coat shape, and give it that lovely flattering silhouette.

Even with this cinch, I effectively size down, taking a 38, but we call this the Medium in order to align the sizes across the shop. The only reason I would say there is to size up, is if you will be only wearing it over a tailored jacket or suit.

The Court Jacket

Size I take: 4 (Medium)

The Court Jacket is a bomber or blouson-style shape. This means it’s big in the chest but gathered tight at the waist. So you get a great silhouette and lots of freedom of movement in the upper body.

The chest measurement looks large as as result, but that size in the medium is the intended style for someone of my size. Go up two inches for every size, roughly, as with the other coats.

The Reversible Bomber

Size I take: 4 (Medium)

This is another one where style is a factor. The traditional bomber jacket (and later the Valstarino and other flight jacket-inspired styles) was big in the body, to go over everything and allow layering. This is the style I prefer today, and I wear a Medium as a result.

But, the Valstarino jacket was most popular as a slim fit - something that was much cleaner than the traditional style. This is what I used to wear, 10 years ago, in that jacket, and for that look Small is the size. To try and illustrate this difference, the launch article had shots of me wearing both.

The Cashmere Crewneck

Size I take: Large

On to knitwear. This wardrobe classic has a fairly slim body and it’s not the kind of thing you want to be clingy, especially if you ever want to wear it over a shirt. So despite me being pictured in all the launch articles wearing a Medium, I actually wear a Large now.

Interestingly, historically I think a Medium would have been fine for me and it would have been the look I wanted - as with the slim Valstarino point above. It’s not a huge difference, but it’s a style choice between really showing how slim you are in the body, and emphasising the face, the shoulders, with comfort elsewhere. Fortunately these trends take about 20 years to change in menswear.

The Cashmere Rugby

Size I take: Large

This is more straightforward, as I’ve always suggested a Large in these for me. They came up a little small when we made them - perhaps because of that double-thick cashmere - and I think they’re nicest when they’re comfy and roomy. So I take a Large and that’s definitely the right size.

Interestingly, another thing I say all the time in the pop-up shop is that this is the one PS piece that I think can go with everything from jogging bottoms to tailored trousers at the office. And actually smarten up most people’s office clothing as well. It’s the king of versatility. The only other piece that does anything like it is the cream/black Donegal.

The Indulgent Shawl-Collar Cardigan

Size I take: Medium

Few people appreciate how indulgent this one is until they try it on. You just want to wrap yourself up in it and fall asleep in the corner. Yet it’s not densely knitted, so it’s not that heavy.

I’ve included pictures of me wearing this in both a Medium and a Small, and both are OK. I think the biggest issue for most people is actually length (body and sleeves) rather than body. Don’t worry too much about the body fit, just make sure the sleeves and body aren’t too long on you when deciding between two sizes. It’s long already, and will grow a little bit rather than get any smaller.

All shirts

Size I take: Medium

So, the question everyone always asks with the shirts is, do they all fit the same? Yes, they are made to fit the same, but the oxfords are the only ones with some shrinkage, so they are cut initially a little bit larger. After a couple of washes, they will be the same size as the Denims and the Chambray.

The steps between the sizes are fairly large, so we can cater to a lot of people across only four sizes. The fit is also relatively slim. My key piece of advice to everyone is, get the fit you like in the collar, the shoulders and the chest. Because everything from the armpit down can be easily altered by a tailor - using darts or by changing the side seams.

It’s not ideal to have to alter RTW things, but if you’re as attentive to fit as most PS readers are, no RTW is going to be perfect. And just like altering a RTW suit, it’s a small change for a big difference. We have ‘clothing resources’ articles on London and New York with lists of places we recommend for alterations.

Hermes Sac a Depeches: How Great Things Age

Posted on 20/11/202420/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

We haven’t one of these for a while – the last was Lucas’s canvas bag from Charlie Borrow – so I thought it would be good to do one on a recent acquisition of mine.

I loved Lucas’s bag; I even prefer the way the canvas has aged to my Filson. But it’s really the way leather ages that gets me the most: it was with those Filson handles, and it has been with other things we’ve covered in this How Great Things Age series, like my Chapal leather jacket, Dunhill box and Edward Green shoes.

In fact, it’s no coincidence that many of those are tan leather, as this colour shows off a really big range of colour. The darker the brown, the less shade range it has to play with. And black has no colour at all.

Today’s piece is a 1980s Sac a Depeches from Hermes – their iconic briefcase. It was a gift from a vintage dealer friend last year, who picked it up relatively cheap and knew how much I would appreciate it. I already have one I bought for myself 10 years ago, but I feel there I chose the wrong leather – this is much better.

The bag has been used extensively, and is a tapestry of scratches and scuffs.

It’s this that I love so much – the recent scratches that show up bright and fresh, but then the hundreds of others that surround them, having slowly darkened over time. The recent ones will gradually do that too, softening and becoming part of the texture.

This bag also has some rain damage, as you can see in the picture below. I don’t mind this mottling effect too much, as it’s not that dissimilar to the other ageing. But the second time I used the bag it was raining and the damage seemed to get worse.

I didn’t want the damage to get too extreme or, more importantly, not look after the bag properly, so I took it to Tim Bent. Tim is a friend and leather expert who runs Bentley’s on Lower Sloane Street in London.

Tim’s advice was to first try using a little leather cream on it. Although the bag didn’t look too dry, there was a chance the leather had dried out over time just sitting around, and the fibres were therefore sucking up any moisture that fell on them.

The cream would stop that, and provide some level of protection. The only alternatives were to use a protective spray – but that would effectively create a layer of plastic over the top, and stop it ageing at all; or to take it to someone who would clean it more thoroughly – but that could be risky, as you wouldn’t quite know what the leather would end up looking like.

The cream he recommended was Lord Sheraton Leather Balsam, which is pretty widely available. You can use shoe creams, but ones that are specifically for thicker leathers like bags and furniture are better.

Interestingly, Tim showed me how he uses it and he only applied a tiny amount. He took a pea-sized blob and then rubbed it into the cap of the cream, so most of it came off and what was left worked its way into the cloth.

That cloth had also been used before, so it had cream already worked into it. This is useful for shoe polishing as well – reusing the same cloth means polish is already embedded, and the material has been worked smooth and free from any stray fibres.

Tim rubbed the cream in using small circles, starting on the bottom of the bag to be on the safe sied. Once it had been worked in, he buffed the area with the cloth to bring up a shine.

I’ve since done the same myself at home, all over the bag, and it has a really healthy glow. I haven’t tried it in the rain yet, but it feels like it should be better protected as well as simply well looked after.

I do have a similar case from Peter Nitz, which we covered here two years ago. Were this Hermes one not a gift, I would never have bought it as I’d never justify two.

But now I do, I have to say I prefer the Hermes version, largely for the way it has aged. Although Barenia leather ages quickly, it would be a long time before the Nitz one got to this stage – particularly as I’m not going to use it every day, as someone might have done in the past.

Which leads to the topic of how smart the bag is, and what I therefore wear it with. In that article about the Nitz briefcase, I said I liked carrying it with suits but that a tote was really my default. I’d say that’s been borne out by time, and so it doesn’t get used very frequently.

But I’ve also found that I like a smarter case when I’m not wearing tailoring, because it doesn’t seem like classic office attire. In these pictures I was wearing a Rubato knit, black jeans, boots and the English Tweed coat. It just about qualifies as casual chic but nothing smarter. The briefcase seemed to be a nice, luxurious addition – something that elevated the outfit without being too formal or traditional.

The clothes shown are: PS English Tweed overcoat (just restocked), Rubato Standard Crewneck in Earth, PS Undershirt, Bryceland’s 933 black jeans, and Edward Green Galway boots.

Hermes Sac a Depeches can normally be found second-hand on Vestiaire Collective and similar sites. They cost anywhere from £1-4,000. Keep an eye out for ones that are as worn as this, as they often aren’t valued as highly as new ones.

The unique shoe tradition of Austro-Hungary – and where to get them today

Posted on 18/11/202418/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

The unique shoe tradition of Austro-Hungary – and where to get them today

Monday, November 18^th 2024Tags:

56 Comments

The Austro-Hungarian tradition of shoemaking is a significant one - until fairly recently it was the most influential in Europe, after the English. It is also a type of shoe (rounder, larger, more comfortable) that is perhaps a little more fashionable today.

I've tried a few such makers, including Vass, Saint Crispin's and Petru & Claymoor, but I don't know anything about the history or the various other small makers. So I asked our contributor Bernhard Roetzel to give us a breakdown.

By Bernhard Roetzel

Until the late 1980s there were two major schools of last making in the world of welted shoes: English and Austro-Hungarian.

A good example of the English shape is Church’s 73 last (now called 173) which was used for the famous Chetwynd brogue and many other styles. Most other makers from Northampton used similar shapes for their dress shoes.

Italy played almost no role in this market until a few companies started producing shoes (both Goodyear-welted and Blake-stitched) using English-looking lasts in the 1990s.

The English last shape also influenced American makers of Goodyear-welted shoes, even though American dress shoes usually had rounder caps and were often wider in the front to make them more comfortable.

The Austro-Hungarian school and its shapes are perfectly represented today by the styles named ‘Alt Wien’ and ‘Budapest’ by shoemaker Vass in Budapest, Hungary.

The Budapest (above) shows the typical Austro-Hungarian profile, with a rather high toe cap resembling the bow of a ship. There is more room around the arch and the shoe is also wider in the front, which makes the Budapest very comfortable, particularly for men with strong feet.

The Alt Wien style has a less pronounced cap yet offers more room than the English toe. Seen from above the cap is rounded and little wider, which gives the toes a little more freedom and overall a bit more comfort.

The shoemaker Alexandru Maftei has similar looking samples in his collection. These very traditional styles are made less today but this is what Austro-Hungarian shoes were all about, and what always set them apart.

Ludwig Reiter looked more like these shoes back in the late 1980s. Their current styles are going more in the direction of Italian-trying-to-look-English.

Generally speaking both the Budapest and the Viennese styles are intended to be more masculine, in the sense of being not too narrow or pointed. As a result, they look best when worn with trousers that are not too narrow or too short.

If you compare these three styles with the Chetwynd from Church’s (below), or the Piccadilly from Tricker’s, you can immediately see the differences.

Since the early 2000s the difference between Anglo-American and Austro-Hungarian shoes has slowly disappeared, with the latter becoming more English (or English in the sense of Italian-makers-trying-to-look-English!).

The old Austro-Hungarian shape has been kept alive by a few manufacturers, such as Vass and Handmacher, and by more conservative bespoke shoemakers like Materna in Vienna.

Below I run through these makers. There are some local brands I decided not to include because they are not made where the style originated. This applies to the wonderful brand Alt Wien, whose shoes are made in England. And also to Roberto & Sons, a collection that includes classic Viennese styles that are made in southern Europe.

Vass

László Vass (above) has been making shoes in Budapest since 1978. The small shoe workshop has grown into a pretty big operation with a wide range of shoes. The core of the collection is quintessentially Austro-Hungarian shoes both in style and make.

Vass shoes were featured in the very successful book about handmade shoes by the German publisher Könemann in the late 1990s, which brought the brand international attention. The story goes that the publisher Ludwig Könemann met László Vass by chance in Budapest and the idea for the book was born over a few glasses of red wine.

Vass shoes are sold online and the website gives lots of advice on choosing the right size and fit.

They come either hand welted or as ‘goyser’ which is a Bavarian name for the construction that the Italians call ‘norvegese’. In Austria this make is called ‘zwiegenäht’.

RTW, MTO and MTM shoes and boots
Starting at €550, €660 and €840 respectively
www.vass-shoes.com

Materna

Considered as very Viennese by many of his customers, it is clear that Materna is strongly influenced by Hungarian style if you look at the samples on display.

Many of them were made by the famous cobbler Bela Nagy, whose business was taken over in 1973 by Georg Materna. Georg was the grandson of the founder who started the business in 1907. In 2008 he was succeeded by Martin Dellantonio, who was trained by Georg and worked for him until he took over.

The present owner has tried to inject some Italian elegance into the shoes but many customers stick to the old Materna style, which is very Austro-Hungarian in the sense that the shoe is less elongated with a higher and roomier toe box.

In the glass cabinet with the samples you will find all styles that are popular with Austrian gentlemen: the cap-toe derby, the plain front derby with four-eyelets (Spitzderby), the split-toe Derby (Norweger). Materna also offers the sturdy Norvegian welt called ‘zwiegenäht’.

A small range of handmade RTW shoes is also available, they are made in the workshop in the same way like they bespoke shoes. Materna shows these shoes only on request because he prefers to sell the bespoke.

Bespoke and a small collection of RTW
Bespoke is around €3000, with no trial shoe. RTW around €1800
www.materna-schuhe.at

Scheer

Vienna’s most renowned and expensive bespoke shoemaker was founded in 1816. Presently it is under the direction of Markus Scheer, who is the seventh generation. He makes all lasts, designs every shoe and conducts the fittings. If need be he will help out in the workshop.

Scheer was once purveyor to the Imperial court and some lasts and shoes from those days are on display. In the 1950s Markus Scheer’s grandfather realised that the only way to win against the rising ready-to-wear industry was to offer supreme fit, individuality of style and the best handwork. This is still the house’s formula.

Markus Scheer insists on not offering styles with names because each customer will get a very personal pair of shoes. The samples shown on their website are meant as a first inspiration, a starting point.

Nevertheless their style with a middle seam is the most recognisable shape they offer. It is frequently copied by other shoemakers in Vienna but Scheer claims invention of the design.

Only bespoke.
Apparently around €10,000
www.scheer.at

Ludwig Reiter

Austria’s most renowned and successful manufacturer of Goodyear-welted shoes looks back on a history full of changes. It started when Ludwig Reiter I opened a shoemakers’ workshop with his wife Anna in 1885.

His son Ludwig Reiter II trained in his father’s workshop. In order to learn more modern methods of shoemaking he travelled to the US and stayed there from 1902 to 1908.The factory grew in the 1920-1930s to be one of the biggest in Vienna, selling shoes under the brand names Piccadilly and Fox.

In the 1970s many makers closed their factories but Ludwig Reiter kept producing Goodwear-welted shoes. When Til Reiter (above) took over in 1985 the company was able to profit from the new interest in Goodyear-welted shoes.

Ludwig Reiter has regularly updated their lasts and shoe designs, giving their shoes more appeal to buyers used to contemporary English and Italian looks. Nevertheless the classic derbys are still available.

I have personally worn their shoes since 1990. I personally like the Hungarian last best because it offers what I expect from an Austrian manufacturer. It is less elongated and it comes in two widths. Compared to English Goodyear welted shoes Ludwig Reiter makes a slightly lighter shoe.

RTW and MTO.
With rubber soles around €598, with leather soles €798
www.ludwig-reiter.com

Handmacher

This Austrian manufacturer of wood-pegged shoes is well known in Austria and Germany. The company was founded in 1995 by Franz Bammer and Bernhard Kovar in the small town of Viechtwang in Austria.

Woodpegging is a traditional method of shoemaking that was common all over Europe for work boots and military footwear. Manual woodpegging was frequently used by makers of handmade shoes in Austria, Hungary, Romania, the Czech Republic and Slovakia and some craftsmen still use it today.

The shoes are made in the company’s factory in the Czech Republic. There each pair is made-to-order on RTW lasts in three widths. Customers can choose from 60 different types of leather for the uppers and from eight options for the sole and the finish. It is possible to order the right and the left shoe in different lengths or widths, which allows for a very individual fit.

I have worn Handmacher shoes and expected them, being wood-pegged, to be heavier and stiffer than they turned out to be. It does take some time to break them in but no more than a Goodyear-welted shoe with a double leather sole.

What I like best about this brand is the options for customising the fit. I ordered a G fitting for the right foot and F for the left, which makes a huge difference on my feet.

MTO only. Matching belts can be ordered with the shoes.
Around €330. Small additional costs for pairs with different sizes for right and left feet
www.handmacher.at

Saint Crispin’s

Maybe the most sophisticated version of Austro-Hungarian style is offered by Saint Crispin’s. The company is family owned and the shoes are made in Brasov, Romania. According to them some 28 craftsmen make around 1500 pairs of shoes per year.

The workshop has existed since the mid 1980s but the brand was founded in Austria in 1992. It went through a couple of ups and downs but the image of delivering very well made and outstandingly beautiful shoes was never harmed.

In 2003 Phillip Car joined the company as partner. Today he is the owner and the face of the brand, travelling extensively. Saint Crispin’s has created a style that offers the best of the Viennese, the English and the Italian worlds of shoemaking. This applies mainly to the look of the shoes which is very ‘bespoke’ in appearance with a very slim, more elegant silhouette than other RTW makers.

RTW and MTO, existing last or personalised last. MTO shoes can be configured online
RTW costs around €1700
www.saintcrispins.com
Trunk shows around the world (see website). Where no trunk shows are mentioned in this list, makers do not do them

Lawart

The Czech bespoke shoemaker Erik Martin Lawart is well known in Prague and also a little outside his country.

His workshop is located in the first district in Prague in an Art Noveau house with windows facing the courtyard. He informed me that all customers are asked to make an appointment by telephone.

Erik Martin Lawart is self-taught because “real socialism killed bespoke production in Czechoslovakia”. He says that he makes his shoes entirely by hand. He makes a trial pair of shoes which the customers are supposed to wear for three days before proceeding to the final pair.

Judging by the shoes shown, his taste is inspired by Italian shoemakers, though on request he shows shoes that look very traditionally Austro-Hungarian. In his words he is “heavily influenced by shoemaking in the Czech Kingdom 1890-1918”.

Only bespoke
Starting at €3000
www.lawart.cz

Michal Pavlas

Bespoke shoemakers often like to surround their craft with a mythical air. Not so Michal Pavlas from Prague. He is very down to earth. When I met him in his showroom I was offered cake made his wife and homemade slivovitz. The workshop lies in the back of a building in a residential area. Customers need to know the place but they only come by appointment.

Michal Pavlas was trained as an orthopaedic shoemaker, which is typical of continental Europe. In his workshop orthopaedic shoes are still being made as one part of his business, but his main passion is shoes made for men who prefer perfectly fitting handmade footwear over luxury brands.

When I say that Michal Pavlas is down to earth I mean to suggest that he is open to the suggestions and tastes of customers. If you want white alligator boots with high heels he will make them for you. If you want something classic he will be even happier to oblige.

Only bespoke
Starting at €2000
www.michalpavlas.cz

Maftei

When you speak to wearers of bespoke shoes in Vienna and you drop the name Maftei (pronounced ‘mufftay’) chances are that at least one person will wear shoes made by someone of that name. I know four shoemakers from this family: Alexandru, his son Lucian, and his young nephews Raz and Stefan.

Maftei Vienna

Alexandru Maftei (above) came to Vienna from Romania in the late 1980s. He had worked as shoemaker there since his youth. I remember him telling me how he made MTM officer’s boots in Communist times. He makes handwelted, hand woodpegged and hand-made Norvegese (‘zwiegenäht’).

Alexandru Maftei found work at Scheer’s, the most prestigious company at the time. He ran their workshop until he left and opened his own business in 1996. I’ve heard that the owner of Scheer was desperate when he heard that his employee was leaving but there was no way to change his mind.

Alexandru Maftei owns a little shop at Kühnplatz in Vienna but is rarely there because he travels a lot. It is absolutely necessary to make an appointment by e-mail if you want to meet him. You can find the dates of his international trunk shows on his website. There is no workshop, the shoes are made in Romania.

His son Lucian is also a shoemaker, he lives in Romania near the workshop. Lucian travels too, he covers the northern half of Germany while his father travels to the southern parts. Father and son make all styles typical of Vienna and Budapest. Their personal taste seems to be less traditional - they tend to make an elongated last if you don’t ask for something else.

I have a pair of shoes from Lucian Maftei - he measured me in Hamburg and came with a trial pair about two months later. They fitted well, and the workmanship on the finished shoe is very good, especially in relation to the price.

Bespoke and a few pairs of RTW now and then
€1400 + €200 for the lasts at the first order. €400 extra for cordovan
www.maftei.at
Trunk shows in Germany (Hamburg, Berlin, Munich), Switzerland (Zürich) and Denmark (Copenhagen)

Raz Maftei

Stefan was very talented and he made a very good start after leaving Scheer. I remember customers praising him as offering the same quality as Scheer at a lower price. Unfortunately he has quit shoemaking and is now living in the country as a farmer, to the chagrin of many.

His brother Raz keeps up the excellent work in the tiny historic workshop in Dorotheergasse. His brother Stefan was taller than him and the workshop upstairs from the shop had a very low ceiling, which caused Stefan back problems.

Raz Maftei makes shoes in the traditional Viennese way by hand. He has a very good taste and as he is still pretty young he is the hope of many younger Viennese gentlemen. He will make all styles you expect in Vienna but lighter and more elegant than many of the old makers.

Only bespoke
€3600. For the first pair €1200 extra for lasts and trial shoes
No website. Appointments by e-mail: [email protected]

László Budapest

Germany is the biggest market for shoes built on Austrian or Hungarian lasts. In the past there were a couple of German brands successfully selling shoes that were made in Budapest. Some of them don’t exist anymore or they have moved their production from Hungary to southern Europe.

László Budapest is a younger member of this family of brands. It was created by the Bavaria based company Schwangau Schuh. They own three brands, two of which offer traditional Bavarian shoes while the third is László Budapest.

László Budapest offers three last shapes representing three schools of shoemaking and three tastes: English, Italian, and Viennese/Hungarian. The latter is either Goodyear welted or Norvegese. The Austrian-inspired styles are named Johannes and Julian, the very traditional Hungarian model is Istvan.

Istvan offers all typical traits of a classic Budapest derby brogue: a wider, slightly roomier G fitting with a rounded toe, the boat-shaped toe box, the double-leather sole made in the Norvegese construction with the handmade braided welt.

Only RTW
€400-500
www.laszlo-budapest.com

Petru & Claymoor

This Bucharest-based brand and shop was founded in 2018 by Mircea Cioponea and Petru Coca, two shoe enthusiasts wanting to revive the old Romanian tradition of bespoke shoemaking.

Petru & Claymoor offer bespoke shoes (including the fitting of a trial pair) and also a small selection of RTW. The shoes look similar to those made by Saint Crispin’s, the style could be described as middle European with a dash of Italian influence.

Romania and the region Transylvania in particular is home to many exceptional cobblers. The Maftei family in Vienna is rooted there and Saint Crispin’s runs their workshop in this region.

Skilled craftsmen are not as easy to find there as 0 years ago but there still seem to be enough to operate a couple of workshops. The low cost of labour in Romania is of course an important factor.

Bespoke only for the moment but RTW soon
€1750 for pair of calfskin shoes + €600 Euro for the lasts and trial shoes on the first order
www.petru-claymoor.com

Denim and tweed: My Scotland travel capsule

Posted on 15/11/202422/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

Denim and tweed: My Scotland travel capsule

Friday, November 15^th 2024Tags:

150 Comments

I usually find packing for work trips quite straightforward. I know what I’ll be doing, in what kinds of places, and therefore what clothing will be appropriate. The challenge is smaller things like a summer jacket that will go with both tailoring and jeans - as with my Japan capsule.

But the recent ‘tweed rally’ I was invited to was a bit of an unknown. There would be a brief visit to a shop (Campbell’s, to be covered separately) but otherwise it was all driving round the countryside, presumably with a fair bit of grass, heather and (as it turned out) sand.

Would tailored flannels and loafers be too smart? The emphasis on tweed was obvious, but would smarter shirts or accessories really work?

In the end I settled on a capsule wardrobe that basically consisted of tweed and denim, and it worked out well. Other people were smarter generally, but the two materials felt sartorial enough while also being fitting to the landscape and activities.

As always with these capsules, I also found it interesting simply as a sartorial exercise - whether (and how) a capsule of just tweed and denim could work.

I took two tweed jackets, which ended up being alternated on the four days. They were:

My Bryceland’s MTM in Permanent Style x Fox houndstooth tweed (above)
A new Anthology bespoke jacket in biscuity tweed from Campbell’s of Beauly (below)

I then took three pairs of jeans. I would have been fine with two, and were this a tight packing situation I would have done that. But having three enabled more experimentation with more and less showy looks. The jeans were:

Vintage nineties Levi’s 501s in black
Bryceland’s 133S jeans in dark indigo
Vintage seventies Levi’s 501s in light blue

Now, the first question for any efficient capsule is: do all the tops go with all the bottoms? The answer here was yes: both jackets go with all the trousers. So potentially six different combinations.

The most useful were probably the light blue and black - they were the easiest to combine, and you want two that are quite different to each other, so if I had had to drop one it would have been the indigo.

I then packed a cream sweater as a third top, as it would go with all three pairs of jeans and could be worn round the shoulders as an extra layer that stopped short of an overcoat.

Now, for the shirts I could have packed a few oxfords (blue, blue/white stripe, maybe pink) and they would have been easy and simple, great with everything.

But I liked the idea of taking heavy denim shirts - because it was a more interesting look (and let’s face it, you want to be a bit interesting when people are taking lots of photos of you) and because I felt those heavy denims would suit the rugged landscape.

So I packed three heavy denim shirts:

This meant on any given day I could do ‘matchy’ double denim (light blue shirt with light blue jeans, black with black, indigo with indigo) or something more subtle by not matching (light blue shirt with the black or indigo jeans).

For shoes, I packed both boots and loafers, trying to strike a balance between smart and rough (no calf leather, but no waxed suede either).

I also took a pair of velvet slippers. These were originally intended for evening wear (which I’ll get to in a second) but proved very useful for just being around the hotel, with some of the denims above. It’s something I might try and do again in the future - they’re easy, lightweight and instantly make you feel relaxed, without being obviously just house shoes.

The shoes were:

Dark-brown suede Galway boots from Edward Green
Color-8 cordovan full-strap loafers from Alden
Black velvet slippers from Bowhill & Elliot

Then three belts to go with those - brown suede and black alligator from Rubato, and an old burgundy lizard from Ralph Lauren. Not ideal carrying three, but hey, these days it’s one of my few accessories.

In the photos above and below you can see the combinations I went with on three of the days. I ended up doing ‘matchy’ double denim on those days (blue on blue, black on black), with a slightly more subtle one (light blue shirt with black jeans) for the journey on the last day.

A few accessories gave me things to play with each day. They were:

Grey and black PS Watch Caps
A faded blue Ralph cap
A very new blue National Arts Club cap (such a different look)
A Lock & Co suede cap
Charcoal and olive PS Arran scarves

The only coat I took was my Liverano ulster in PS Tweed. It didn’t go perfectly with everything, but it's good with jeans and most of the time it was buttoned up with a scarf anyway.

Luggage was my big check-in Rimowa (always required for trips like these and Pitti) and my old Filson briefcase. I never take a suit bag as I can fold all my tailoring into the suitcase without creating creases (video here).

Then the evening. Tuesday night was black tie, so for that I took my Bryceland’s Tuxedo Lounge Jacket, a pleated shirt from D’Avino, and my La Bowtique.

Were this a proper capsule, I could easily have worn one of the tweed jackets with a smart shirt and tailored trousers on the other two evenings. But given it was a menswear event I took my DB chalkstripe suit instead, and wore it with a black knit one night, the sawtooth shirt the other.

Below you can see the capsule laid out. There were a few last-minute changes:

I decided not to take the waxed-suede boots (middle pair) and didn’t miss them. Fortunately it wasn't that rugged
I panicked and put in a pair of charcoal flannels, but never wore them
I replaced the cream shawl cardigan (top, middle) with a V-neck, as it was lighter and could go on the shoulders more easily

The Hermes silk scarf in the bottom left was also a nice option to have (so light, takes up no space), but I didn’t end up wearing it.

So the denim-and-tweed capsule worked out pretty well, and it’s something I think I’ll repeat in the future - maybe not with so many shirts and jeans, but certainly two of each.

The volume of clothes ended up being quite large given the dinner events, but I think there are still some quite useful travel-capsule tips here. And if I hadn’t been so efficient with some packing, the volume would probably have been larger still.

The second image below, by the way, is myself and Robb Report editor Paul Croughton. I include it as Paul also has a jacket in the PSxFox houndstooth, which readers might find useful to see.

Thank you very much to Jamie, Matt and John for organising the trip, and to the wonderful Torridon hotel for having us. I’ve been to a few places in Scotland for menswear (Borders, Harris, Edinburgh, Glasgow) but never this part of the Highlands, and it was absolutely stunning.

All photography: Jamie Ferguson and Lorenzo Sodi

What does a green shirt (and a brown stripe) go with?

Posted on 13/11/202413/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

I really love playing with new colours in clothing. It’s like a fun little exercise in how much you know about what goes with what - how far you’ve come in your menswear journey.

Yet at the same time, I also find it consistently throws up surprises. You try the combinations that you think will work first, and then somewhere along the line an entirely new one suggests itself - you try that too, and like it more than you thought you would.

As readers will know, I also don’t wear much colour, at least strong colour. Compare my wardrobe to most of the lookbooks of Drake’s or J Press, and I look extremely sober. So perhaps I enjoy these exercises because it’s a particular challenge to find ways I do like colours.

The new green oxford shirt we’ve done this winter is a case in point. I’ve never owned one because I thought the colour was more suited to those brighter styles - perhaps more straight preppy wardrobes.

But so many readers asked for a green in the PS cloth (our exclusive one - vintage, tough, made to emulate old Brooks Brothers) that I made a sample earlier this year and had great fun playing with it.

The most famous reference for a green oxford shirt is Miles Davis, on the cover of the album Milestones (shown above, and also one of my favourite jazz albums - the first great quintet going hard).

Miles looks great of course, but I was never sure that colour would work on me - being a different skin tone, not sitting in a studio, and most of all not Miles Davis.

But it turns out yes, it can work, particularly in the very muted green of the PS ones (the same as the stripe used previously). Perhaps it’s best to call the colour ‘mint’, as that suggests something of its faded look.

So what does the mint work well with? Well, first off, it’s great with blue denim. Always helpful given how much we wear it, and nearly always the case with colours like this. It’s my favourite thing to wear with yellow oxfords as well.

The mint is good with blue and darker denim, but lighter tones work especially well.

That shot above also shows how good these colours are with tan, like that vintage lizard belt (bought recently at Stella Dallas in New York). Mid-browns are good as well, but again like denims, lighter browns and tan are particularly pleasing.

But what on top? Well, first the green is great with textured greys, like my grey herringbone tweed jacket above.

And it’s good with navy, like the cashmere jacket in the second image. So navy and grey - two menswear staples, that’s helpful.

How about the less formal and more rural colours, like brown or green? Green is obviously going to be a challenge, and this does struggle. I tried some tonal green combinations but it always looks rather sickly - browns are a lot easier for that kind of thing.

But the green is nice with dark browns, like the knit above. I think it helps that the green is so pale and the brown so dark.

This green is also good with faded black jeans, but perhaps that belongs in the grey category above.

Lastly, I love this green shade with pops of bright yellow, such as the old Trunk tote I’m carrying in the second image above. Other bright colours like red and purple are nice too, but yellow is my favourite.

It’s such fun playing with these combinations - and so much easier experimenting with something cheaper like a shirt, rather than a jacket or a cashmere sweater. Men’s outfits often look more elegant this way - with the colour on the inner layer rather than the outer - but it’s also helpful that it’s a cheaper way to experiment.

The other new oxford colour - the brown stripe above - is more straightforward, but still it’s more useful than I had thought.

(If it seems, by the way, like all our product experiments work out well, that’s only because we don’t write about the failures. After all it’s only the ones that work which people can buy. Although I guess looking at the failures might make for an interesting article some day.)

A brown-striped oxford is not a common or obvious choice, but when you wear a lot of ‘cold colour’ combinations, containing a lot of charcoal, black, cream, dark olive and so on, a brown stripe is useful.

I often wear black jeans with jackets in dark navy, grey or murky green, for instance. In that combination a white shirt works well, but it’s a little stark against the black jeans (particularly when I take the jacket off).

So a brown stripe is great, softening the white as well as providing some pattern - something I often lack in such outfits.

That’s what I’m wearing in the outfit shots above, and it’s become a bit of a default for me with black jeans.

The brown is not a strong colour, like all the PS oxfords. In fact it could even read as a grey - just one with a touch of richness, like a dark navy jacket compared to a black one.

Of course a pale-blue stripe would work as well, but the brown is a little more interesting and unusual. In fact, the green/mint is the same - a pale blue would always be easier in those colour combinations I listed, but it would also be more normal and everyday.

I would always recommend a reader to have a blue or blue/white oxford shirt in their wardrobe first, but when they want something different, these are both great options.

The green and brown-stripe oxford shirts are available here. There will be cloth available in both too, but not for a few weeks, that's arriving separately.

Other clothes shown are:

Assisi grey-tweed jacket
Assisi navy-cashmere jacket
Permanent Style cashmere rugby, brown
Vintage Levi’s 501 jeans
Vintage lizard belt
Ludens alligator belt
Trunk tote bag (colour no longer sold)

Pictured below: the new 'natural' colours in the Arran Scarf and Indulgent Shawl-Collar Cardigan, which were also added to the shop recently

The rules and how to break them #12: Don’t use your pockets

Posted on 08/11/202408/11/2024 by Simon Crompton

The ‘Rules’ section on PS is a repository for all those conventions that have built up over the years around classic menswear and which people quote too much, often without thinking what they mean, why they exist, or why in fact they should be followed.

We’ve addressed a fair number them over the years, including wearing white after Labor Day and wearing brown in town, buttoning your jacket and specifically which button to button (always the hardest one). The intention each time is to answer those questions: why did these rules or conventions come into existence, how relevant are they today, and therefore should you care?

Today it is the turn of pockets, specifically putting your hands in your pockets. Most of us will remember someone telling us this was uncouth, but surely even with tailoring, those days have gone? Well, yes and no.

First, why would this convention come to exist in the first place?

Well, tailoring is a beautiful, fine piece of structure. It is precisely cut to render clean, uninterrupted lines that are both elegant and flattering. Spoiling that by shoving your hands in the trouser pockets, pushing up and rumpling the jacket everywhere, is a bit of a shame.

This happens when you move your arms around as well of course. Also when you sit – the jacket isn’t necessarily going to look its best then. But those things are unavoidable. Using trouser pockets is not.

Really? I mean wouldn’t it be weird to just stand there all the time with your hands rigid at your side?

No, not necessarily. After all, the military have been told not to use their pockets for a long time. Just this year, the US Navy finally relaxed its rules on pocket use, saying they could “have hands in their pockets, when doing so does not compromise safety nor prohibit the proper rendering of honours and courtesies”. (Those who have served, do as ever please pitch in.)

I think the two reasons given by the Navy there are significant: having your hands in your pockets seems impractical, as a sailor would be less ready to perform its duties; and it would be discourteous, a question of propriety and respect.

The latter is the main factor when it comes to tailoring. A businessman who always stood slouched, their fists deep in their pockets, would look a little unprofessional. It’s part of the impression you give to those around you – just as much as whether your tie is askew or your shirt untucked.

So the first things to bear in mind when considering whether the hell to care about this convention is, who are you and where are you? Having a beer in the pub or making a client presentation? It may not really matter much in this day and age, when dress codes have gone out the window, but those are the key points.

Now the flip side of this is that you might use your pockets to deliberately subvert the formal impression of a suit. Perhaps you want to casualise it – so wear it with casual shirts, with casual boots, with the jacket open most of the time. Using the trouser pockets is part of the same attitude.

Jacket pockets as well. This became a bit of a fad when #menswear first became popular 15-odd years ago. Every stylish Italian seemed to have their hands plunged into their jacket pockets, and it looked so damn cool. The guys at The Armoury in Hong Kong started doing it, so did everybody else, and before you knew it, it was a thing.

You still see echoes of that today. I still have a faint echo of it ringing in my head when I do it. And it can look cool, it can be a significant part of the way we’re re-contextualising tailoring today. But it can also be pushed too far – usually when it looks forced, like so many things in menswear.

Things that make it look unnatural include doing it with jackets that are too short, or way too tight, so the vents are splaying all over the place. A slouchy jacket helps, as does doing it all the time, so it feels instinctive.

Something that rarely looks natural, to me, is having one hand in the jacket pocket and a thumb hooked over the top (below). It might spoil the ones of the jacket less, but it always looks awkward and fussy.

If you did want to give a smarter impression – with your jacket buttoned up and your tie sprung to attention – it is still possible to use your trouser pockets, just keep it to one.

That way one half of the jacket is still perfectly sharp and elegant, but you don’t feel you’re standing to attention either. If you look at a lot of old imagery of tailoring in the 30s and 40s, this is very common (above). Although it’s also not hard to find images of men – at least in more casual settings – with both hands in their pockets too.

Interestingly, this is despite jackets often being ventless. And to me, using your trouser pockets with a ventless jacket looks plain awful. Back of the jacket all over the place.

The occasion when this is most relevant today is with black tie, because it’s the time most men are likely to wear a ventless jacket, if they wear one at all. In that case, however, it’s a formal occasion and you should be paying more attention to propriety anyway.

The biggest disadvantage of a single vent, for me, has also always been the way it opens when you put your hands in your trouser pockets. Your bum is revealed like the curtains opening on a stage; not the effect most of us want.

So if was wearing a single-vent jacket – perhaps a tweed hacking one – I’d probably push the jacket back with my hand before using the trouser pocket, rather than raising it at the side (eg below).

Conventions build up because they give certain effects, produce a certain impression. Using your trouser pockets is no exception, and jacket pockets even more so.

But the final question always is – do you care? Who are you, where are you, and what impression do you want to give? You’re going to give one – there’s no choice there – but you can very much decide what it is.

So please, let’s avoid the the knee-jerk reaction of “it’s just damned awful”, “not in my day” and so on. Nothing is as simple or as boring as that.

Removing the white stitch on a new coat

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