StyleCrave » Uncategorized

How to be measured at the tailor

Simon Crompton — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 20:01:30 +0000

The little extras will come after measuring

Having clothes made by a tailor can be a frustrating business. Truth is, few of us are any good at designing clothes. That’s what makes the retail experience satisfying: browsing designs and being inspired by something that we love but would never have imagined. Other people design for us.

However, once you know all the elements of fabric, style and pattern (outlined in previous posts) you’re in a much better position than most. You know how many buttons you want on your jacket and why, which type of wool and in which weight. All that’s left is to master the fitting process itself.

Get it right and you’ll bespeak something as good as retail. After two or three attempts, you’ll create something better.

Usually, a tailor will discuss cloth with you first, before getting out the measuring tape. Little details like pockets and buttons may come later, but he’ll want to get a sense of the weight and style of suit first. A Norfolk jacket fits differently to a sharp, navy worsted.

Then, on with the measuring. Once the tailor gets going, the number of measurements may seem bewildering. On the trousers, for example, he’ll need the inside and outside leg on each side; the waist, hips and seat; and then the thigh, knee and cuff. And the jacket is much more complicated. Just stand still and let him do his job – but bear a few things in mind.

First, stand naturally. One of the greatest arts of tailoring is arranging the back parts so they fit smoothly all the way up your back, resting evenly across your shoulders and fitting snugly against the back of your neck. No off-the-peg suit will do this. It will always be a little too tight or loose at the neck and rest unevenly on one shoulder. Because off-the-peg suits are made for an average stance, with no lean forward or back and neither to one side or the other.

And no one is average. Everyone stoops a little bit; everyone has one shoulder that drops slightly more than the other. So don’t try to hide this from the tailor. Stand as naturally as you can – try to relax. Good tailors will even make you relax, by cracking a joke or teasing you about an aspect of your shape.

Shake your arms out; roll your neck; take a breath, and let go. Then try to stay in that frame of mind for the next 15 minutes or so.

Second thing to remember: anticipate the aspects of fit that the tailor will not know simply from looking at you. How long do you like your sleeves? It helps if you wear a shirt that you like the fit of – then he can refer to the amount of exposed cuff rather than to your wrist bone. How long do you like your trousers? Reading previous posts on fit should give you a decent idea, but again it helps to wear things you are already quite satisfied with.

The beauty of bespoke is that there will be at least three more occasions after this for you to express your feelings on tightness and looseness. And it’s much easier to give your opinion on an actual jacket than in the abstract. So just give some rough indicators to the tailor. Grunt approval, shrug or wrinkle your nose. He should get the message.

Spot a stylish man by his socks

Simon Crompton — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 20:31:07 +0000

Socks: www.DandyStore.fr

Here’s my personal tip for telling instantly how style-aware a man in a suit is – check whether his socks match or complement his trousers.

I always liked the saying “If you want to know if a man is well-dressed, look down.” But while this refers to footwear, and it can tell you a lot about how well-dressed a man is, I prefer to consider his socks.

A man’s shoes tell you about how much money he spends, perhaps about his taste and certainly about how well he looks after his clothes. A man with well-turned, well-polished brown brogues under his blue suit demonstrates a certain interest and investment in what he wears.

But socks tell you something different. Socks tell you immediately whether someone can be bothered. In the City, most suits are dark. Most men wear black shoes. So if they wear black socks every day, they will look smart, professional and have to spend absolutely no time in the morning thinking about their socks.

If, on the other hand, a City man decides to wear socks that match his suit, he will need at least three colours – grey, blue and black (yes, a depressing number of City workers still wear black suits). He will be more stylish and his legs will look longer. But he will need enough of each colour to make sure he doesn’t run out, and a certain time will be needed tin the morning to select the right pair. Travelling will take a little more thought as well.

It’s not a big expense, but wearing socks that match your trousers shows you care. Someone boasted to me recently that he always wears a belt that matches his shoes. I asked him what colour his shoes were. He had three black pairs and one brown. And admitted he usually wore brown at the weekend. Not much of an effort to match his belt to them, then.

Socks, on the other hand, take a little effort. Particularly if you get into the world of pattern, and have some stripes, spots etc. Then you have to consider the pattern on your trousers as well (roughly the same guidelines as ties – create contrast in the scale of the pattern). It all takes a little more time.

Colours of course, are another big jump up. Dark red and dark green are often recommended for grey suits. I’ve always liked purples and pinks with navy. And bright red or yellow seem to fit best with tan shoes, in my opinion.

But this is just one of the factors. As soon as you go for colour, the whole outfit has to be borne in mind. Is matching the sock to the tie a little too affected? Is it better if one is patterned? As with a handkerchief, you probably want something that harmonises without matching, but you are likely to have fewer options with socks than handkerchiefs.

Unusual colours are a quantum leap from grey, blue and black. But look out for the man who can be bothered to match his socks to his trousers. It is the best and quickest sign of someone who cares.

How to wear black tie – Part 2

Simon Crompton — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 16:19:36 +0000

Herbert Hoover covers his waist

In the last post – part 1 of this couple on evening dress – we discussed the biggest mistakes men make when donning black tie. They were: wearing it during the day, not covering their waist and mis-matching the formality of their shirt, collar and waist-covering.

Now, let’s explore some of the options with more personality. Know the rules, then twist them: that’s the motto here.

Shoes for black tie should be, at the least, highly polished black Oxfords. The Oxford is cleaner than the Derby, and so more formal. Broguing is also informal, so none of it here please. While black Oxfords are fine, patent is better for being that bit shinier. The whole of the black tie ensemble is about contrasting textures – wool of suit with silk of lapels, seam on trousers or shine of bowtie. Patent enhances that contrast. And although many men don’t like the artificial finish, a delicate patent shoe with a thin, cemented sole is really much smarter.

And it’s only one step away from the ultimate, black pumps with a silk bow. Again, many men despise them and they are certainly more effeminate than other black tie options. But with the most formal combinations above them, they are correct. And they certainly have more personality than the Oxfords you wear to the office.

(Velvet slippers, being matte, are acceptable but better suited to informal black tie – with a velvet smoking jacket, perhaps.)

Counter-intuitive though it may be, there is nothing wrong with wearing a white bowtie with black tie. The adjective does not refer to the colour of the bow tie but to the overall dominant colour of the outfit. As noted before, a white bowtie is merely more formal – not wrong.

However, a man today is likely to be castigated by the ignorant for wearing a white bowtie. So let me suggest this instead: wear a white waistcoat in the same stiff Marcella material as your dress shirt, instead of a black one that would echo the jacket. Again, a white waistcoat is not wrong, merely more formal. And a white waistcoat will stand out far less than a white bowtie. Personality that whispers, rather than shouts.

Most white waistcoats will be backless, with merely a collar and elastic at the waist. Both white and black can be made as such, and it is far more comfortable; the device was probably invented originally by shirtmakers Hawkes & Curtis.

Of course, it goes without saying that you would never take your dinner jacket off, so the back of the shirt would never be revealed under the waistcoat. Indeed, black tie is the outfit that demonstrates this maxim of menswear better than any other. Every item, from the waistcoat to the shirt to the cummerbund, would lose its elegance if the jacket were removed.

How to wear black tie – Part 1

Simon Crompton — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 16:15:08 +0000

Bogart wears a tropical dinner jacket, with shawl collar

A man’s dress used to be driven by social propriety – what his peers considered to be fit and proper. Most of the rules for dress that we have inherited were formalised by social norms. Style icons were made when those that could (usually royalty) broke with convention and wore. Hence the wearing of suede shoes and double-breasted jackets by Edward VIII when he was Prince of Wales. He made that acceptable – but he was not necessarily the first to do so, just the first to sufficiently encourage others to follow his lead.

Today, there is little of this social propriety left. Men in some offices know they have to wear a suit and smart shoes. Some social fixtures, such as race meetings, have dress codes. But that’s about it. The only area today where men know their dress is prescribed is when wearing a dinner jacket, or black tie.

However, common mistakes are still made. The biggest is that a man’s waist is often not covered. With black tie you have three options: waistcoat, cummerbund or double-breasted jacket. All cover the waist and conceal that part of the shirt. They are listed in declining order of formality (unlike most other areas of dress, double-breasted is considered less formal than single) and a man must wear one of them.

This choice then goes some way to determining the shirt a man wears. Most evening shirts have stiff or starched fronts in some shape. A small or oval front is designed to sit under a waistcoat, so only that part of the shirt is exposed when one’s jacket is open. A cummerbund leaves more of the shirt exposed and must therefore be worn with a wider stiff front in a rectangular shape. Being less formal, it may also be worn with a pleated front and turned-down collar. Stiff-fronted shirts most often have a wing collar, though this is not universal.

So the second biggest mistake men make is to mis-match the formality of waist covering, shirt front and collar. Each is on a sliding scale and must not be too far apart from the others.

The third biggest mistake men make is probably wearing black tie during the day, something the Americans are particularly guilty of. Black tie is evening wear. That is why it is black.

Or at least dark. Black tie can in fact be midnight blue, brown or any other dark colour. Midnight blue was popularised again by the Prince of Wales, and often looks darker under lights than black. Noel Coward had a brown outfit, complete with matching tie and pumps, made for him by Douglas Howard. Some rakes of the past have worn dinner jackets in all the colours you commonly see smoking jackets in today. However, I would only recommend the first of these alternatives – midnight blue.

The jacket should have a peaked collar, rather than a notch or step. This reflects the outfit’s antecedents in the morning suit and frock coat. A shawl collar is acceptable but is more casual than peak. It is often found on double-breasted or smoking jackets – or indeed more casual dinner jackets like a tropical-weight ecru, famously worn by Humphrey Bogart in the film Casablanca.

Do what I say…

Simon Crompton — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 18:28:19 +0000

Try to ignore the plane. How high are those trousers?

OK, it’s a fair cop.

Someone commented to me recently that I wasn’t living by my waistcoat theory (see post on January 15) and they’re right. I don’t pursue it every day by any means but I still believe in its internal logic, and the clothing combination it suggests is certainly something I make use of regularly. I just like a little variety.

The waistcoat theory suggested that modern air conditioning meant a waistcoat and trousers would be the work attire most in line with traditional menswear. As men never wear a jacket around the office, the beneficial effects of a suit are almost entirely lost. A waistcoat, on the other hand, retains the shape and elongation of a suit while being comfortable for work at a computer and not too warm for an office with central heating.

This was meant as a theory more than anything else – to make a point about how a suit, despite all the time people spend thinking about it or having it made, is actually worn. But it wouldn’t be much of a theory if it was never put tried in practice.

So today I opted for a grey flannel waistcoat and trousers (two pieces from a three-piece Ralph Lauren suit), dark brown derby shoes from Richard James, and blue shirt and dark blue tie.

One tip: both waistcoat and tie should be plain. Most people have memories of an awful waistcoat some relation or other wore to a Christmas lunch. This is not a wedding and the waistcoat should not be fancy. The tie, equally, should not be aimed at drawing attention to itself. If anything the shirt should have the pattern, perhaps a thin stripe, which will also help add width that the waistcoat lacks compared to a jacket.

There is one problem with the theory though – most waistcoats are made too short. Originally, all suit trousers sat on a man’s waist (above the hip bones and probably just under the belly button). At this height, the waistcoat and trousers would overlap by at least an inch or so, allowing a man to sit down or stretch without exposing his shirt.

Today, most waistcoats are made at the same length, but trousers are worn closer to the hips. This can create unattractive ballooning out from the waist of the trousers, particularly if the shirt is not particularly fitted.

Some waistcoats are made slightly longer in recognition of this. And while they will never completely correct the problem – as they would have to go down over your bum to overlap the trousers by an inch or more – this is a step in the right direction. I recommend Flight, a company that sells high-quality suit separates in green, blue and grey flannel.

An alternative, for those brave enough to go down this route, is to wear braces with your trousers. Buy trousers with a decent rise and hitch them up under the waistcoat with the braces – a belt won’t work, it doesn’t keep the waistband secure enough and will create a bulge under the waistcoat.

Picking suit cloth: tweed, linen and the rest

Simon Crompton — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 18:21:43 +0000

Note the salt and pepper look of Donegal

Time was, a man would only wear tweed or linen at the weekend. The dignity of business necessitated sleeker cloths during the week. Now in many offices round the world, a man is smart if he wears a jacket of any material. A sharply cut jacket in grey Donegal tweed is still a lot smarter than a sweater. So knowing how to wear tweed, linen and all the various incarnations of cotton is an important skill.

Tweed is felted or roughly finished wool that is woven with several differently dyed yarns. It is not just checked wool, as some manufacturers would have you believe. Indeed, the most interesting tweeds are usually not checked, but distinguished for the number of bright colours combined into a subtle overall tone.

Harris tweeds have to be woven on the Scottish Isle of Harris, though the production is much curtailed since the takeover by Brian Haggas of two mills there a few years ago. Tweed of the Harris type generally has one general colour but many variegated yarns, as described above. Donegal tweed, from that region of Ireland, is distinct in having bigger flecks of a secondary colour, such as yellow in green or white in grey, and is less commonly patterned.

Best to start with a classic green Harris tweed for a jacket. Single breasted, slanted pockets and probably three buttons. Often the style is of the old hacking used for horse riding, hence it will have a relatively high waist button and a long centre vent.

Do, however, consider a plainer or more conservative colour for office or general city wear. Grey, pale blue or a very dark green can look just as smart as some worsteds, if cut well and with fewer bright yarns in the mix. Worsted rarely works as an odd jacket, and a cashmere blazer might seem too obvious – in that scenario smart tweed is by far the best choice.

Linen is the king of summer cloths and for good reason. It is absorbent and dries quickly, taking moisture away from the skin. It is usually in a looser weave than most wools or cottons and therefore allows more air through it. And in heavier weights in doesn’t so much wrinkle and rumple, making it still relatively smart: aim for 13 or 14 ounces.

Linen is most usually made up for suitings in cream, tan and blue. The second of those is my favourite, but you may feel that it is only really appropriate for garden parties or strolling around town on the sunniest of days. In that case go for blue. Navy may look as if are just wearing a rumpled business suit, so I recommend something a little brighter.

Cashmere is the wintery down from the hircus goat of Mongolia, combed from the animals before it falls off naturally in the spring. It is finer than normal wools and so softer. Best suited to separate jackets or overcoats though. In a full suit cashmere would be heavy and, being soft, not drape as well either. Vicuña is from small and rare camel-like creatures. It is even finer, making is very soft but a little sleek as well. Best kept for luxurious overcoats.

Other, minor cloth options:

Mohair is the hair of the angora goat, lightweight but with a slight sheen. This makes it cool but sometimes flashy. Mohair mixes can get the best of both.
Hopsack is a loose weave of worsted wool that is therefore more textured but also breathable. Good for blazers.
Fresco is a patented formulation of worsted wool that is smooth and lightweight
Gabardine is a tight twill in wool, cotton or anything else. Good for trousers or can make a nice alternative to linen in a summer suit
Seersucker is a ribbed cotton cloth popular only in the US. Best to avoid except as a summer jacket

Picking suit cloth: worsted and flannel

Simon Crompton — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 18:16:40 +0000

Grey flannel used to be a sign of uniformity. Not any more

What you know is worsted. That’s what 99% of the ready-to-wear suits out there are made of. It’s wool that has been smoothed in the yarn and again in its interlacing, to produce a clean finish. There are many different types of worsted – serge and gabardine are both worsteds yet feel very different – but again, this is a tiny proportion of the cloth on offer.

Most of your suits will be worsted and there are many options of weight and weave to suit every occasion. It is worth having one or two of flannel, though, and tweed and linen definitely deserve recognition in casual wear.

So let’s start with the options on worsted. Most of the suits you will be used to from the peg are lightweight – between 9 and 11 ounces probably. That’s a shame, because a man should have variation and even a 13-ounce suit doesn’t have to be packed away for the whole of the summer months. There will be chill days when it feels good to slip on a heavier suit. And in a plain grey or navy the trousers may be particularly useful, as trousers wear cooler than jackets.

So try to have a good scattering of weights between 9 and 13 in your wardrobe. If this is your first bespoke suit, you’ll probably need something at the heavier end of the spectrum. That is a blessing, for heavier cloths hang better and retain their shape better than lighter ones, so the suit will look even better for it.

Super 100-and-something is a measurement of the fineness of the wool. Originally a measure of how many centimetres the yarn could be stretched to, it is now codified by the diameter measured in microns. Higher numbers are sleeker, smoother and rarer. So they can look more luxurious and will be more expensive. But, being finer, they won’t wear as well. Until your wardrobe is so full that you only wear a suit once every month, stick with super 100s to 130s.

Heavier cloth is a great opportunity to wear flannel. This is a slightly less processed and therefore hairier material than worsted. It will feel slightly softer and spongier, but hangs wonderfully and is a great contrast to the shine of a man’s silk tie and polished shoes. Personally I prefer woven ties with sleeker suits, to continue that contrast.

Commission a single-breasted grey flannel suit in 12 or 13-ounce cloth and see how it feels to you. Some men prefer it to anything else, it has such character, and spend the summer wearing 9-ounce versions that aren’t strictly speaking flannel but have that same soft handle. Others only wear it in autumn and winter and – much like the Italians with suede shoes – feel that there is something about those seasons that suits greater texture. Either way one or two flannel suits are a necessity in any well-dressed man’s wardrobe.

Wait for it… patience in the sales

Simon Crompton — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 20:02:07 +0000

Kilgour ready-to-wear black tie

Looking back at the sales season that has just passed, it was hard to sit at home while luxury items are being reduced all over the city. But it was worth it.

This year economic uncertainty meant that many sales started early, usually before Christmas. When I was in New York at the beginning of December, a Ralph Lauren employee subtly mentioned to me that all their stock was already on sale. Polo and Black Label were reduced by 30%, Purple Label by 50%. There were no signs in the store, and no marking down on the labels. But a few people were quietly told as they browsed.

It was the same situation in London, though staff wouldn’t necessarily admit it. I bought a suit in mid-December that was altered in a few places, but when I went to pick it up they claimed to know nothing of the early sale.

“You say you bought this suit in the sale, sir?”
“Yes, around December 12”
“The sale didn’t start until December 27, though – are you sure that’s right?”
After 20 minutes of searching, the suit was eventually found. Maybe this particular employee wasn’t clued in, or maybe it’s a conspiracy. Either way it is understandable that a chain wouldn’t advertise the fact that sales had started early – it could be seen as a sign of desperation.

Because sales started early, many retail chains had to increase discounts after Christmas and into January. This is why, though hard, it is worth waiting until the end of the sales. If you start with a discount of 50%, the “further discounts” that are advertised in mid-January need to push sales to 60% or even 70%.

This is particularly satisfying because you know you are eroding a label’s profit, approaching the point where all you are paying for is the cost of the item itself.

The typical profit margin in fashion retail is between 65% and 70%, depending on the brand and what you include in a chain’s costs. The cost of manufacture may be small on its own, but the chain also has to cover its rent and wages, not to mention firm-wide costs like advertising and branding.

(This, by the way, is how Selfridges can sell, say, Prada shoes at the same price as they are in the Prada store. Selfridges gets them at a discount because Prada doesn’t have to pay rent, wages etc. for those items.)

So I think the lesson is to wait until the end of the sales, and then rejoice when your discount approaches 70%. Ralph Lauren reduced its Purple Label socks from £25 to £8 in these sales, a reduction of 68%. A manager there told me they had been snapped up as a result – not surprising really.

I remember it was the same with Savile Row store Kilgour last year, as it reduced the previous season’s suits and shirts by a further discount in the sales. Last season’s jackets were reduced from £660 to £195 – a very satisfying 70% saving. Of course, Kilgour’s general reduction in its ready-to-wear clothes was reflected in the fact that, this year, it was 50% off way before Christmas and still is.

How to pick the pattern of your first suits

Simon Crompton — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 19:48:21 +0000

The Duke of Windsor wearing a Prince of Wales

If you’re commissioning your first suit, make it plain. There’s enough to worry about with fit, style and colour. Don’t chuck pattern into the mix as well.

But then, plain is rarely plain with worsted wools. There’s nailhead and pick-and-pick, both of which most men would just describe as plain, and even some herringbone patterns are so fine that men don’t notice them.

In general, a little surface detail is a good thing. Unless the desired look is ultra-smooth and sleek, texture adds to the interest of a suit and contrasts nicely with the shine of a silk tie. (That’s one reason actors in Hollywood films from the thirties and forties look so smart, even in black and white – the texture of flannel against cotton and silk. And of course the heavier fabrics they wore draped better.)

So consider those little patterns to be nothing more than surface texture. Personally, I think you can’t go wrong with a little herringbone – essentially a broken twill pattern, it looks always and everywhere sophisticated.

Next are stripes. Most you see these days are pinstripe – a thin line of white or similarly pale colour that contrasts with the background. It’s easy to see how to go wrong here – the stripes shouldn’t be too strong or too far apart. Both appear rakish and that’s not a good thing, in business at least. Equally, though, the stripe should not be so dense as to appear nothing more than surface detail. It’s a waste.

Stripes should always be vertical and should match at the back of the collar and either the top of bottom of the pocket flaps. They give an impression of height and therefore flatter short men. Unless you are freakishly tall, though, they will not look bad on a big man. And the lengthening effect is far greater than the slimming one. In the end, a fat man in stripes just necessitates more stripes. It enables the viewer to almost measure how wide he is.

My favourite stripe, though, is chalk. This is wider but usually used on flannel, creating a fuzziness to the line that is both classic and flattering. Try it on a mid-blue suit and team in with sober accessories. Not rakish, but certainly full of personality.

Next, checks. The king of the check is the Glenurquhart plaid, often reduced to simply glen plaid. This is a check of several overlapping lines that was made famous by, but certainly not invented by, Edward VIII, later Duke of Windsor, when he was the Prince of Wales (hence its alternate name, using this title).

At its faintest, this check is mere surface interest. At its strongest, it is old-fashioned sportswear and unsuitable for business. The difference is really in the tone of the grey (or occasionally blue) that it is set against. Start with a mid-grey and then experiment.

The real fun of glen plaid, though, is the overchecks. This is a simple, single line that follows the undercheck but outlines it, adding a subtle touch of colour to the pattern. Blue is standard and safe, lime green is surprisingly popular and pink also pops up now and again. But the king is a rusty orange. Try it on your fifth suit.

Lastly, there are windowpane checks. A simple pattern created by single lines, this plaid can again vary enormously in its effect from anonymity to recklessness, despite being always in white. It is harder to do well than a Prince of Wales. I recommend starting with a large but faint windowpane on a charcoal ground. Perhaps with a peak lapel to echo a little of the rake.

How to pick the colour of your first suits

Simon Crompton — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 19:43:38 +0000

This is a navy and a mid-grey suit

For business suits, colour is pretty simple. But there are a few ways to not just get it right, but get it right on. The standard colours are blue and grey. And for good reason: no other colours can look equally smart and flatter a man’s skin tone at the same time. Black is too harsh; brown isn’t smart enough; tan isn’t serious enough.

The colour needs to be dark to be businesslike. But that doesn’t mean it should be indistinguishable from black. Navy is the classic blue for business suits. But, while a very dark shade, it is easily distinguishable from black. It is definitely blue. Too many men buy suits that are too dark these days (closer to midnight blue, a tone often used for eveningwear and which looks black until closely inspected). That makes them look pale and pasty. Real blues and greys and much kinder.

A navy or mid-blue is also far more interesting in terms of colour combinations. Midnight blue looks very smart with a white shirt and black shoes. But that’s it. Navy also looks good with those accessories, but brings out chocolate-brown shoes as well. And a blue shirt provides a great background for experimentation with colour in the tie or handkerchief. Strong colours against black just look cheap.

Royal blue or cerulean are great for casual suits or blazers. But eschew them for business wear. In general, the paler and brighter a colour the more casual it is. So if you want to smarten up a linen suit commission, for instance, go for navy rather than royal blue.

Most of this applies to greys as well. Too many men wear grey that is very dark, looking more like black with a little texture to it. Charcoal is a great shade for business and works particularly well in flannel, but (like navy) it cannot be mistaken for black.

In fact, there are really two clear categories of grey that can be worn for business: charcoal and mid-grey. Of all the suit colours, the latter is the kindest on the skintones of most men. It complements a good tan, but it doesn’t wash out the pasty faced. It is for that reason that I would recommend men creating a business wardrobe (or commissioning their first bespoke suits) to start with navy, charcoal and mid-grey.

Mid-grey is a touch lighter than the suit you would instinctively buy. Don’t be afraid. It will look perfectly serious with a blue shirt, dark tie and deep-brown Oxfords. But then it will also work wonderfully in a casual summer setting, with a white shirt, tan shoes and perhaps a white linen handkerchief.

A man’s next commission should be a blue blazer. And he shouldn’t switch to other colours until his wardrobe includes a chalk stripe, a double-breasted, a Prince-of-Wales check and a three-piece. But when he does venture into other colours, the key ones are brown and green.

This seems rather daring until you look at tweed, the dominant casual attire of traditional English dress and pretty much always dominant in either green or brown. Both can work in suits or jackets in any material, but remember that lighter colours and stronger colours are more casual. So in a suit both brown and green should have a touch of the grey about them. And they should be dark enough not to dazzle.

Don’t twirl your umbrella down Fleet Street

Simon Crompton — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 14:28:40 +0000

John Cleese was dressed in costume

I like wearing chalk-stripe suits. I’m a fan of red socks, as well as double-breasted jackets and white-linen handkerchiefs. But I know that if I wore all of these pieces in one combination I would look like a caricature. I might as well top it off with a bowler hat, grow a moustache and wander down Fleet Street twirling my umbrella.

So I wear red socks with more understated suits. Perhaps a plain grey flannel and open-necked white shirt. I rarely wear a handkerchief and a tie at the same time, as for a young man such as myself – in an office where most other men rarely wear a jacket, let alone tie or handkerchief – it is probably a little too much. And my double-breasted suits are not navy-blue chalk stripe.

I also find that it is fun to add touches of individuality: to experiment with odd waistcoats in formal suits, though there is no tradition of this that I am aware of; to combine smart, clean Converse with flannel suits, as I like the contrast of smart and casual; to wear darker coloured, wool handkerchiefs in odd jackets when worn casually. This is individuality and creativity. It is what makes dressing fun, rather than study.

This is my philosophy for today: Dressing in the full traditions of men’s clothing can make one a caricature. It must be combined with a touch of originality.

There are blogs on men’s style that are fascinating for the depth of knowledge they demonstrate – over the role of a split yoke on a man’s shirt, over the line of a shoe’s waist. They inform many things about what I buy and what I wear. But I am often a little disappointed when I see images of the authors.

This is because they seem to want to be an embodiment of what is – necessarily – historical dress, and become an illustration from an old copy of Esquire. They take every aspect of, for example, early twentieth century English country wear, and they copy it. They wear the cord trousers, the tweed jacket, the checked shirt and the wool tie. They add the flat cap, the brogues and the bright socks. They may add a hunting jacket with leather padding on the shoulder to protect from the impact of a gun’s recoil, or a waxed Barbour jacket with bellow pockets to accommodate shells.

These items are all correct, historically. And the chances are they will be of the highest quality, complement the wearer’s skin tones and fit him perfectly – as he takes great care over these elements as well. But it is just mimicry. He is in costume.

Even Prince Charles, on a hunt around Balmoral, doesn’t follow the traditions of hunt clothing this fastidiously. And he has an excuse for wearing something similar – he is actually hunting, he is actually English and all his forbears wore similar pieces throughout their history.

The style aficionado who copies it is just dressing up. He has none of the creative element that can make dressing so enjoyable, and so personal.

I think that men who are very interested in their clothes are part geeky, petty academic and part creative, artistic aesthete. Everyone needs the former to drive them into reading and investigation, to be interested by the history and traditions of men’s attire. But everyone also needs the latter, to have the kind of mind that created these traditions in the first place. (Beau Brummel and the Duke of Windsor are heroes for being precisely the opposite of these geeky facsimiles.)

Unfortunately, when men have too much of the first influence and not enough of the second, they end up looking like an extra in a costume drama.

Two buttons versus one – reader question

Simon Crompton — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 14:17:46 +0000

Huntsman makes a very nice, smart one-button

John is preparing for his first visit to a bespoke tailor: I’m not sure what number of buttons I should go for on my first bespoke suit. I like some three-button suits but not others, and two is fine but occasionally one button looks really good. What is the history behind each and what would you recommend?

In the last piece in this series, we discussed the merits of a three-button jacket, its styles and antecedents. The conclusion was, “If you’re going with three buttons, make sure they roll”. A higher fastening is less flattering and, generally, less stylish. It is boxy, narrow and constrictive. Fewer buttons both lengthens a man and emphasises his shoulders. And who doesn’t want that?

You could be forgiven for thinking that the choice of one button or two takes this argument a step further. But in fact the lapel length will likely be the same. With both styles, the waist button is the top (or only) fastening – the two-button style merely adds another, lower button. What’s more, most two-button jackets are not designed for the bottom button not to be done up. You can fasten it, unlike the bottom buttons of some waistcoats, but the cut is far more elegant without.

(Some styles have two buttons that sit either side of the waist, and are designed to both be fastened. But these are rare, often fashion ephemera and blunter that a traditional shape. After all, why turn that single-point fulcrum into a static bar? It denies movement to a suit.)

So, you may well ask, what is the point of a second button? It seems redundant. Many commentators have shared this view, alleging that one button looks more stylish and three are more practical. By comparison, two buttons are just dull.

There’s three principal reasons for adding the second button. The first is practical – a little wind can turn your jacket fronts inside out, flapping them around and forcing you to repress them with your hands. That’s not exactly elegant and ruins whatever silhouette was intended by the cut.

The second is a matter of style. One button is sharp, singular, not to say rakish. Dashing to some, louche to others, it is certainly a statement. No matter the jacket’s heritage – coming from the morning coat and riding wear – nor its superb modern manifestation, thanks to Huntsman and latterly Richard Anderson – this is a style.

And some men don’t want a style. They want normal, they want unobtrusive, they want stolid. They do not want anything that could suggest a rake (or, indeed, a co-respondent). For them, the two-button jacket is flattering and practical.

Finally, and perhaps least importantly for today’s man, a one-button jacket should really have high-waisted trousers. Back when all men wore braces, their trousers all started around their belly button. The waist of the trousers and of the jacket were both on their natural waist. This meant that when they put their hands in their pockets, pulling apart the jacket, no shirting was on display. While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this for every modern man, an triangle of puffy shirt is hardly flattering and negates the upward-sweeping triangle of the lapels.

So as a one-button jacket means more of a cutaway front, there is more potential for displaying one’s waist in this way. Trousers on the natural waist are not required, but the argument for them strengthens. And few men wear trousers of that height today.

One versus two-button is a matter of personality. But consider the arguments on both sides.

StyleCrave » Uncategorized

How to be measured at the tailor

Related Posts

Spot a stylish man by his socks

Related Posts

How to wear black tie – Part 2

Related Posts

How to wear black tie – Part 1

Related Posts

Do what I say…

Related Posts

Picking suit cloth: tweed, linen and the rest

Related Posts

Picking suit cloth: worsted and flannel

Related Posts

Wait for it… patience in the sales

Related Posts

How to pick the pattern of your first suits

Related Posts

How to pick the colour of your first suits

Related Posts

Don’t twirl your umbrella down Fleet Street

Related Posts

Two buttons versus one – reader question

Related Posts