Die, Workwear!

How Difficult Can It Be?

Thu, 16 May 2013 09:01:00 -0700

So last year, I adopted a pet - a young, six year-old tuxedo cat with the personality of a Labrador. She follows me around the house, doesn’t like to be alone, and routinely insists on being petted and played with. Whatever reputation cats have for being independent and aloof, this one has none of it. I find her very charming.

The only downside to having her around is that she sheds. Not a lot, but enough to require a bit more cleaning. The most annoying aspect of this chore is cleaning off the shoe bags that sit on my bedroom floor. They seem to act like cat hair magnets, and even a good vacuuming won’t clean them off entirely. Thus, I’ve been thinking about getting some new bags – ones that won’t hold on to cat hair more dearly than my cat herself seems to. One design I really like is by John Lobb of Saint James’s, London (the original one, not the one owned by Hermes), which I learned about through this article by my friend Réginald-Jérôme de Mans.

As Réginald-Jérôme writes, a typical shoe bag is made with two rectangular pieces of soft, brushed cotton, sewn together on three sides, and then made open on one so that shoes can be put in. A pair of cotton or leather drawstrings is then used to close.

John Lobb’s, however, makes the remarkable looking pairs you see here. They’re apparently made from a soft, fleecy material and decorated with a thick braided trim. Instead of having just one end open, the entire top opens up, so that you can more easily insert and remove your shoes. The bag itself is wedge shaped, so it sits more naturally over your shoes, and the zipper pull is finished with a matching tassel. The whole thing looks a bit over-the-top, truthfully, but I really like them.

The problem, of course, is that I imagine this fleecy material will still attract cat hair. And nothing would ruin the feeling of elegance more than having to sit and vacuum these bags every week, just so they don’t look like still, half-balding animals. Plus, there’s a John Lobb logo on the side, and it feels a bit silly having bags made for bespoke shoes when I don’t own any myself (John Lobbs’ or not).

So I’m thinking of getting something similar made, but with an easier-to-clean material. A heavy cotton drill maybe? Muslin? I don’t know, but would welcome any suggestions. I imagine you could supply a seamstress with some basic materials and get something made for not too much money. How difficult can this be? Cut a few pieces of cloth in a wedge shape, sew them together, put in a zipper, and attach the trimmings.

Or maybe I’m naïve, and like with my imitation Turms box, getting something to look this nice is harder than it seems.

Vintage Ghurkas

Tue, 14 May 2013 10:05:00 -0700

I was knocking around on Ghurka’s website over the weekend and saw that they had an impressive collection of vintage bags. All stuff from the early years, when Marley Hodgson was still running the company.

For those unfamiliar, Ghurka is an American bag company that started in the 1970s after a Connecticut man named Marley Hodgson attended an antiques auction. Hodgson had a particular fondness for history and leather goods, and on that day, he had his eyes set on some campaign gear made for Ghurka regimental officers stationed in India during the early-1900s. He lost the auction, unfortunately, but later came upon a bigger prize: an idea to start a line of American-made bags inspired by those Ghurka designs.

The original stuff was all very tough and beautiful. They had a kind of old, foreign correspondent feel, were suitably casual for an American lifestyle, and were exceptionally well made. Hodgson liked to describe his customers as people with a “quiet confidence and adventurous spirit,” and you can kind of see that sensibility run through his work. Perhaps more importantly, his bags all aged beautifully, as you can see here.

In 2004, however, Hodgson sold his company and then went off to create Smith Fork Ranch. Whereas Ghurka under his tenure always manufactured everything in Connecticut and New York, the new owners shifted part of the production to Spain, Italy, and China (though some of it was retained here). Truth be told, I found many of their products during this period to be a bit underwhelming, especially for the price. It seemed without Marley Hodgson’s leadership, Ghurka was just becoming another luxury-end fashion brand.

In 2011, however, the company was sold again - this time to Brightwork Brand Holdings. The company’s new CEO has made it a goal to bring Ghurka’s overseas production back home to the US. I’ve been told that this will take time, as there’s a shortage of skilled labor here (I assume in the quantities Ghurka needs). However, since the acquisition, 100% of their business bags are now made in Connecticut, and 50% of the travel goods are made in either Connecticut or New York. The balance is then split up between Italy, Spain, Latin America, and China.

I actually don’t think having production done in China is necessarily a bad thing, as I don’t believe you can easily reduce a product’s quality down to its country of origin. I’ve seen some remarkable Chinese-made luxury goods in Beijing, and I’m sure good bags can be made there. The issue of shifting production to China, at least for me, is always whether or not it signals the company’s flagging commitment to quality. With the new owners’ efforts to bring production back to the US, however, who knows - maybe this means a return to the glory days. It might be worth stopping by one of their stores to take a look.

Either way, the vintage pieces on their site look amazing. They have such a casual and romantic sensibility about them, and I imagine they’d look great with a Barbour jacket, Shetland sweater, and pair of chinos. Kind of reminds me of something I need to look for on eBay.

Raw Silk Explained

Thu, 09 May 2013 10:17:00 -0700

It’s still a bit chilly in San Francisco, but in anticipation of summer, I went ahead and picked up a raw silk grenadine by Drake’s last week. Michael Hill and his design team seem to be getting more adventurous these days, but I still think they achieve great success. This new design, for example, has a bit more texture than their regular raw silks – adding the slubbiness of raw silk to the textured weave of grenadine. This makes it look something like a summer version of boucle, which I really like.

Alexander, that reader who kindly introduced me to the New York cloth merchant, explained to me last year that raw silk is simply silk that has not been chemically processed. You see, every silkworm extrudes two filaments when making its cocoon, and these fibers typically undergo a chemical processing to strip them of their bonding sericin. As a result of having their sericin left on, raw silk lacks the full luster and richness associated with the kinds of processed silk used for neckties. There also tends to be an unevenness in the yarns, as the two strands of filament are left bonded together, rather than being stripped and separated, which would yield an ultra-fine filament yarn that can be densely woven.

Note, this doesn’t mean that raw silk is necessarily organic, however, which is how it’s commonly advertised on some websites. Raw silk can still undergo several types of processing and finishing that are bad for the environment, and still be left “raw.”

There’s a second type of material known as Tussah (seen above), which salespeople often mistakenly call raw silk. Tussah silk is cultivated by allowing silk worms to live on a wild diet rather than exclusively on mulberry leaves. It tends to have a slightly slubby quality similar to Dupioni, which is what leads it to being misidentified as raw silk. At Drake’s you can easily tell which is a Tussah silk tie by examining the weave - their Tussahs feel a bit delicate and are looser woven, whereas their raw silks are much denser.

Dupioni or duoppioni silk, on the other hand, is when two silk worms are left next to each other to create a strange double cocoon. Dupioni silk is almost always left raw in an effort to keep the multiple strands together and maintain their irregular yarn properties. I haven’t seen that many neckties made from Dupioni, but I’ve handled a couple vintage summer suits made from such material. They’re impossible to find nowadays new and off-the-rack, and are rarely available even through bespoke tailors, but A Suitable Wardrobe found a source for Dupioni through Jodek International (don’t expect prices to be cheap). You can see Dupioni’s qualities here, if you look very closely.

Anyway, that’s raw silk, in the best way it’s ever been explained to me. Drake’s new variety of raw silk grenadines at the moment can be found through Mr. Porter, Barney’s, and Drake’s website itself. They may or may not go on sale. I was afraid this one wouldn’t, which is why I bought early. Barney’s been having remarkably good sales at their Warehouse site, however, and things at the moment are discounted up to 75% off. That puts their remaining Drake’s ties at less than $50. The chances of a raw silk grenadine making it this far in a sale is slim, but that’s the game with discounts.

Special thanks to Alexander, as always, for taking the time to write to me.

(Pictured below: Drake’s raw silk grenadine up close, two photos of a striped raw silk tie by Drake’s, and an upcoming dotted raw silk grenadine by Panta)

Brooks Brothers' Friends and Family Sale

Tue, 07 May 2013 09:10:00 -0700

Brooks Brothers’ Friends and Family sale started today. Discounts of 25% can be had with the checkout code FNFBB6.

Some of my favorite items include these shell cordovan boots, chukkas in pebble grain calf and suede, and SWIMS galoshes. I actually own a pair of the shell boots and they’ve been a favorite in my closet for years. You can see them here in that post I wrote about Aspesi’s Loden coat. They can be successfully paired with everything from jeans to heavy woolen flannel trousers, so long as what you’re wearing carries a generally rustic or rugged sensibility.

I also own this waxed cotton coat, but in black, and this brown suede jacket. The waxed cotton coat is great if something like Belstaff’s Roadmaster is too expensive for you, and I promise the brown suede jacket looks better in real life than it does online. Blame it on Brooks’ bad styling.

Personally, I picked up this Filson 256 briefcase in its newest colorway, navy. It simply looked too good to pass up.

Oxford and Chambray

Thu, 02 May 2013 09:01:00 -0700

There are two types of shirting I’m particularly fond of: oxfords and chambrays. Both prove that plain blue shirts don’t have to just be plain blue. They can be considerably more charming if they have a bit of texture and subtle variation in color. Today, I have good news about both cloths.

The first comes courtesy of a reader named Alexander, who kindly emailed me a few weeks ago to tell me about a New York cloth merchant who carries an oxford shirting that he thought I might like. Indeed, I do. The weave is more apparent than the oxfords you might see at Brooks Brothers, and the yarns have a starker contrast. Whatever qualities you find charming abut a traditional oxford, this has the same, but more so. The cloth actually reminds me a lot of Mercer & Sons’ shirting, which I wrote about a few weeks ago. Best of all, it sells for between $5 and $8 a yard, depending on how much you buy.

Alexander suggested that the merchant’s oxford be pre-shrunk before being actually made into a shirt. With higher-end fabrics, such as those from Alumno, this is rarely necessary since the mill will finish the fabric with water and detergent (thus, effectively preshrinking the fabric for you). But at $5-8 a yard, one can hardly complain, especially since a good tailor can usually pre-shrink your fabric at no extra charge.

NY merchant’s oxford swatch set against a Mercer & Sons OCBD

NY merchant’s oxford swatch set against a Brooks Brothers OCBD

Mercer & Sons’ oxford cloth, up close

The second bit of news concerns Simonnot Godard’s chambray, a particularly beautiful French shirting that over the years has captured the attention of some bespoke tailoring enthusiasts. Most people think of chambray as a rough, denim-like, workwear fabric, but in fact it can be finely woven into something quite dressy. At least dressy enough that it can be easily worn with a casual sport coat and tie.

Recently, the beloved fabric has undergone some controversy. First, Carl Goldberg at CEGO Custom Shirtmakers claimed that it was just some cheapo poly-blend, an accusation that many people found so unfathomable that it went largely ignored. Then Matthew at Tweed in the City conducted a burn test that seemed to confirm Carl’s claim. Finally, just yesterday, Torsten at Grunwald had a conversation with Simonnot Godard themselves, and verified that indeed all of their chambrays are woven with 20% polyester. You can read his story on his blog.

As a response, Torsten will no longer carry Simonnot Godard’s chambray, and has discounted his remaining stock to rock bottom prices. Instead of ~$100 for two meters, it’s now a remarkably low ~$35.

I admit, the idea that people have been unwittingly buying polyester is a bit funny, but I’m not sure it makes any difference in how I feel about the cloth. I still think it’s quite beautiful. It’s like end-on-end, but the color has a bit more variation and depth. On certain editions, there’s also a very subtle, nubby texture. If there’s a pure cotton shirt that can achieve the same effect, I’ve never seen it.

In any case, I bought fifteen meters of oxford and twelve meters of chambray yesterday. Both will be made into two weeks’ worth of solid blue shirts – one set woven with enough texture to get me into certain eating clubs, and another set woven with enough polyester to get me into certain nightclubs.

And that’s my good news.

NY merchant’s more casual chambray set against a Simonnot Godard chambray

Voxsartoria’s Simonnot Godard chambray shirts

Close up shot of one of Simonnot Godard’s chambrays, via Tweed in the City

The Largest Mill in Italy

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 09:13:10 -0700

The rather talented Gianluca Migliarotti - who many know as the director behind O’Mast - recently completed a short film on the largest mill Italy: Vitale Barberis Canonico. The family who owns the mill has been producing cloth since at least 1663, from which there are documents reporting the delivery of a “sala grisa” (grey wool) to the Duke of Savoy by Ajmo Barbero. Today, they make cloth for merchants such as Holland & Sherry, Smiths, Wain Shiell, and Dormeuil.

The trailer for this film was released about five months ago, but this is the full 15-minute feature. As to be expected from Gianluca, it’s shot beautifully. You can see it here on Vimeo or watch the embedded version below. Enjoy.

Ralph Lauren's Spring Private Sale

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 09:10:59 -0700

Ralph Lauren’s private sale just started for this season. By private sale, I assume they mean it’s private to anyone who can click on a hyperlink, as the sale is pretty much public to anyone with a computer (you do have to click on their special URL, however). As silly as the name is, the sale is pretty good. Discounts are up to 40% off with an extra 15% if you shop before May 1st.

My favorite items include Ralph Lauren’s Singleton loafers and Sanderson wingtips, both of which are discounted to about $300 at checkout. There are also colorful summer shirts for $60, and my favorite ready-to-wear trousers, Ralph Lauren’s Preston model, in a solid brown and houndstooth linen at $260. The Preston is a genuine classic cut with a high rise. I taper mine to about an 8” opening, and have yet to find better pair of ready-to-wear pants (just make sure you’re choosing from the made in Italy line, as Preston is just the cut, and the Asian made Prestons aren’t terribly worth buying).

There’s also a yellow fireman’s slicker, similar to the one I’m selling on eBay. It’s admittedly a silly jacket, but I love the design. It reminds me of a particularly great photo of Ralph Lauren himself. In it, he’s wearing a yellow fireman’s jacket, navy crewneck sweater, and a blue chambray shirt. I assume below is maybe a light blue pair of jeans. It’s a charming look that can bring a smile to one’s face on a dreary day.

Linkson Jack and Glenroyal

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 09:35:00 -0700

As some readers may know, Linkson Jack recently asked me to be a style advisor at his store’s new “private shopping” service. The service allows customers to pay a monthly subscription fee, which gets deposited into their Linkson Jack accounts as store credit. It’s a way, in Linkson’s words, “to make it affordable for men, whatever their financial position, to own really nice, bigger ticket items that they would not ordinarily buy.” Being a subscriber also means getting access to exclusive goods, special sales (beyond what he puts public, such as these $80 E.G. Cappelli ties), and style advice from either Simon Crompton or me.

I admit I find my being a style advisor there a bit strange, if only because I know a good number of people who are infinitely more qualified. On the other hand, I think I know more about style than I did ten years ago, when I first got interested in tailored clothing, so perhaps if you’re just starting out, I can help you flesh out some thoughts or tell you what the general orthodoxy is on things.

For the sake of transparency, I should note that I earn a 10% commission on any products I recommend to subscribers. The partnership I have there is quite natural, however, as I genuinely rank Linkson Jack as one of my favorite online shops. In fact, Linkson was recently so kind as to let me take an advance on a Glenroyal briefcase that I’ve been eyeing for months.

Glenroyal is a 35 year old Scottish company located in the village town of Kilmaurs, which thus far is famous for three things: its crossroad buildings, medieval jailhouse, and 200 years of leatherworking history. It’s here in this Scottish countryside that Glenroyal continues Kilmaurs’ tradition by producing leather goods with qualities rarely seen today. My briefcase, for example, is made from bridle leather (also known as harness or saddlery leather), which is a vegetable tanned cowhide that has been finished with fats, waxes, and tallow. Bridle leather gets its name from what it was originally created for: bridle straps used to connect to a horse’s reins. The material is prized for its functionality, beauty, and strength. Since it was originally meant to be worn by a horse, it has to be flexible enough to be manipulated, well finished enough to not rub (so the back has to be nearly as good as the front), and strong enough to hold since failure can be potentially life threatening. All of those qualities make bridle leather an excellent, if expensive, material for lots of other things, including briefcases made by companies such as Swaine Adeney Brigg and Glenroyal.

Glenroyal produces their bridle leather goods in a number of colors, including black, navy, dark brown, and London tan. I choose tan because I thought it would age nicely and take on a better patina over time. I also thought it would show off bridle leather’s natural white bloom. These blooms occur because good bridle is deeply impregnated with oils, fats, and waxes to keep it strong and supple. The white deposits you see are from the tallows surfacing. This is quite normal, and is a sign of the degree that the leather has been penetrated with fats and waxes (lesser bridle leathers can have a finish sprayed on at the end of its process). If you want, you can brush off the white blooms with a soft cloth and buff things back to a beautiful shine. However, I rather like the subtle white streaks that develop. I think they add character.

The briefcase is not cheap, and I imagine I’ll be working it off for the next couple of months (Linkson does carry many more affordable Glenroyal goods, however). On the upside, it looks fantastic with a suit or sport coat, and I now reserve my Lotuff and Clegg bag for more casual use. I can’t imagine using any other bag but this now when wearing a coat and tie.

(Photos via Linkson Jack, OnlyBrown, and Rakuten)

A V-Shaped Brogue

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 09:22:00 -0700

As much as I enjoy classic brogues, I only own two pairs of wingtips: Edward Green’s Inverness, made from a lightly antiqued chestnut calf, and Ralph Lauren’s Marlows, made from a dark brown shell cordovan. The first is only wearable with lightweight clothes in the spring and summer months, while the second is better with heavier, country clothes in the fall and winter. I own none in dark brown calf, which, being a more versatile color and material, would allow me to have at least two wingtip options throughout the year.

So I’ve been wanting to get a new pair, but feel a bit ambivalent about most models. My eyes are more drawn towards the elegant, curved “v-shape” designs from Saint Crispin’s, Edward Green, and Vass.

Like with all of Saint Crispin’s shoes, their modified longwing brogue doesn’t have a name, but a number. Here, it’s simply called the 105. Along with the 315, the 105 was one of the company’s first models. It came out in 1996, four years after the company’s founding, and was designed by Saint Crispin’s original proprietor, Michael Rollig. Michael has gone on to do Zonkey Boot, but the shoe he designed for Saint Crispin’s seventeen years ago continues to be one of the company’s best sellers.

Edward Green’s version is called the Brummell (after the famous Regency dandy, of course). It came out in 2010 as a way to mark the company’s 120^th anniversary. The diamond shaped medallion you see is drawn from Edward Green’s 1930s archive. A uniquely shaped punch for a uniquely designed shoe. I don’t see the model listed in Edward Green’s latest catalog, but I imagine it should be available for special orders. The biggest upside to Edward Green is that I think they have one of the best looking dark brown calfs on the market.

Finally, there’s Vass’ Old English II. Theirs perhaps looks less sleek, but this could be an advantage depending on what else one plans to wear. It also comes in at half the price of the other options, which is attractive.

I’m undecided at the moment on which model I like best, but will have to choose soon. I’d like to have a pair of dark brown, calf leather, v-shaped brogues.

(Photos via Ethan Newton, Leffot, and StyleForum)

A Visit From Steed

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 09:25:00 -0700

Savile Row’s Steed Bespoke Tailors made their first visit to San Francisco over the weekend, and just left this morning to go to Nashville, Tennessee. I met with them yesterday, and it would have been rather joyous if it weren’t for the tragedy in Boston. Edwin DeBoise, the firm’s co-founder and cutter, told me that when they visit Boston, they stay at a hotel just near the bombings. It’s really still quite disturbing to see the photos and news stories steadily streaming out.

Still, after some talk about Boston yesterday, I went ahead and ordered my first set of garments. Included was a deep, rich navy suit to made from a 15oz hopsack by Smith’s. I didn’t get a photo of the cloth, but the weave is quite visible. Visible enough that I should be able to wear the suit jacket alone as a sport coat. I also asked for my London Lounge Shetland houndstooth to be made up into a sport coat, for some fawn flannel to be turned into odd trousers, and for a brown herringbone tweed to be made with a poacher’s pocket (this, I think, will be my reading jacket).

I had a difficult time choosing the right brown herringbone, however, and in the end, never settled on one. I paid for the full order, but Edwin and Matthew kindly said I could decide on the herringbone in the next few weeks. I’m leaning towards the middle cloth you see in the first photo above, third from the top, which seems to have a enough definition in between the lines, and the right pitch of brown to wear with a variety of trouser colors. The others seemed too flat or muddy in comparison, but we’ll see.

There were also some beautiful, spongy tweeds that gave me ideas for future commissions, as well a very handsome range of linens and flannels from the London Lounge books. The linens look like they’d make for great summer suits, and the brown plaid flannel pictured below seems like it would be ideal for a three piece.

There was an amusing moment when Edwin was measuring me. He’d wrap the tailor’s tape around a few times and dictate the measurements to his son, who sat behind us taking notes. At the end of it, he poked around my shoulders and noted, “low right shoulder, high left.” Then he took a step back, looked down, and in a voice much quieter than what he was using earlier, said “prominent seat.”

His son then whispered, “Quite prominent calves too, yea?”

“Yea,” Edwin nodded.

I’m sure they were speaking in more hushed tones to be polite, but I thought it was quite amusing. What Asian man could be offended by the remark he has a prominent seat? I would advertise in felt letters across the back of my fawn flannel trousers if I could.

Anyway, Edwin tells me that their visit to San Francisco was quite a success. Two days fully booked with appointments, so they’ll be back four times a year. I imagine they’ll also add San Francisco to their permanent travel schedule (or so I hope). I’m already looking forward to when they return in June.

The Italian Cover Up

Tue, 09 Apr 2013 09:00:00 -0700

April being the month when traveling tailors visit, that means meeting foreign men in hotel rooms, undressing and dressing, and sometimes taking pictures. My first meeting was with Napoli Su Misura, who was in downtown San Francisco over the weekend, seeing clients at the Orchard Hotel. They brought with them the four garments from my latest order: a cigar linen suit made from W. Bill fabric, a brown gun club faux tweed made from Hardy’s Worsted Alsport, a blue Fresco sport coat, and a pair of grey Minnis flannel odd trousers.

During the fitting, I asked Dino if he could extend the shoulder line a bit on each of my three jackets. I’m unfortunately very skinny and have unusually narrow shoulders. With a jacket that shows and tells all, I think it reveals my rather unmasculine figure. So to hide some of it, I thought I’d ask for the shoulders to be broadened a bit, past where my natural shoulders end.

The dilemma with asking for this on a softly tailored coat is that without any support at the sleevehead, the extra fabric will just collapse and “flop” over. So instead of going fully soft, Napoli Su Misura will put a bit of wadding at the sleevehead to give support. Wadding differs from padding in that padding is a full shoulder pad, sometimes quite thick, whereas wadding is a semi-circular, thinly padded material that covers just the end of the shoulder. According to Dino, this should allow me to get a slightly broader line while still maintaining a soft, Neapolitan look.

We’ll see how the experiment turns out, but in my (non-technically trained) mind, I can’t see why one can’t have all the things we love about Italian tailoring – the soft construction and casual, relaxed look – while putting in some things to help hide our deficiencies. Liverano, for example, makes a softly constructed jacket with an extended shoulder line, and StyleForum member iammmat has the same modification on his Rubinacci jackets. I think the effect is something very casual, relaxed, and masculine. This flies in the face of that idea that we must choose between looking natural and hiding our defects (anyone remember that terrible video where the Scimat guys attacked Jeremy Hackett over this?). Perhaps I’ll be proven wrong at my next fitting, but if I am, NSM can revert to their default natural shoulder, so no harm will be done.

The Great British Sewing Bee

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 09:26:00 -0700

Following the success of The Great British Bake Off – a British television show where amateur bakers were pitted against each other in a series of baking competitions – the BBC just launched their latest program, The Great British Sewing Bee. The concept is the same, but instead of flour and water, we have thread and needle. The show’s challenges all revolve around making women’s clothing, and though this site is about menswear, I thought the show might be of interest to readers since there’s a focus on tailoring. The contestants, for example, are asked to make an A-line skirt within three hours and a custom dress within seven. I think of tailoring as a mostly quiet, almost private, activity, but the time pressures and cast of characters actually make for engaging television. They also throw in a bit of history regarding pattern making, show viewers how to make a simple laundry bag, and along the way, demonstrate some of the challenges in the craft. Who would have though discussions of darts and pattern making would ever make for popular TV?

Plus, one of the judges is Savile Row’s Patrick Grant, which I admit makes for an odd judge since he has no technical training in tailoring. However, he’s charming and I suppose lends a bit of star quality (is Patrick known outside of the menswear world?). In any case, sewing instructor May Martin picks up any technical issues Patrick has missed, and Patrick has enough of an eye to say when something has been constructed sloppily (his comments are a good way for the viewer to learn when something fits, incidentally).

The BBC’s iPlayer is only viewable in the UK, but you can find the first episode uploaded on various websites pretty easily now. Here it is on Youtube, and embedded below for your convenience. Enjoy.

It’s Heart Breaking

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 09:30:00 -0700

I’m working on an OCBD roundup for Put This On, so that readers who may not have yet settled on a favorite maker can get an idea of some of the options available to them. I originally wasn’t going to post anything about it here, since I don’t see a need to overlap on content, but what Mercer & Sons sent me is so good that I feel the need to say why I’m heartbroken.

Mercer & Sons is based in Maine, and has been producing American-made OCBDs since 1982. Their site feels charmingly anachronistic – something like an old mail-order catalog – and their shirts are no less old-fashioned. I mean that in a good sense. For one, their collars are unlined. Not unfused, mind you, which is what most other producers make. Unlike an unfused collar, which has a floating interlining, an unlined collar has nothing at all inside. This makes the collar very soft and frankly a bit mussy looking. It’s for the kind of guy who understands the casual spirit of an OCBD, if not the historical accuracy (as Brooks used to make their OCBD collars unlined). Their collar points are also an unapologetically full eight centimeters long (again, just like Brooks used to do). The effect of having these longer, unlined collar points is that you get a more relaxed, full, button-down roll. It’s the kind of charming look you see in old photos, but is disappointingly absent in many modern day skimpy collars. The collar being the heart and soul of an OCBD, I haven’t come across a more handsome option.

Mercer’s oxford cloth is also exceptional, though perhaps not something for the neophyte. It’s scratchy, rough, and heavy – a bit reminiscent of a tweed jacket or a new pair of selvedge denim jeans. Not as uncomfortable against the skin, of course, but clearly tough and meant to be broken in. The warp and weft yarns also have more contrast, which gives the fabric a lot more surface interest. After handling this Mercer, I’m too embarrassed to wear my oxford shirtings from Acorn anymore. To be sure, they’re not much different from what you’d find on most OCBDs today, but that just means almost everything now seems incredibly lacking.

The only thing holding me back from ordering a bunch of these is the fit. Mercer’s shirts fit very, very full. My size 15 shirt, for example, has a chest measurement of 49.5”. The company offers the option of sizing down the body two sizes, so you can put a size 15 collar on a 14 body. However, that still puts you at a 45.5” chest, which is a full 4.5” bigger than my custom shirts from Ascot Chang.

I asked David at Mercer whether they could just copy the body on one of my Ascot Chang shirts. That would not only allow me to get a better chest size, but also account for things that are very difficult, if not impossible, to get off-the-rack or even made-to-measure. My shoulders, for example, are asymmetrically sloped, such that the right one is much more dropped than the left. If a shirt’s shoulders aren’t cut exactly right to accommodate this, I get lines going from my collarbone to underarm. That, of course, only accentuates this abnormality (though, from my experience, very, very few men have symmetric shoulders). I also find it necessary to have the waist point on my shirt match my natural waist. Otherwise, I get lines just underneath my ribcage, and the shirt is more likely to blouse over the top of my trousers.

Unfortunately, David said no, they can’t copy other shirts, and would be reluctant to make their OCBDs in a different silhouette. So now I don’t know what to do. Their button-down is far and away my favorite, but they can’t make something for my unusually skinny frame (I’m a puny 36” on a good day). I suppose I could just ask Ascot Chang to make me something with longer collar points, have the collar unlined, and use an equally tough shirting. However, in the end, it would only be a verisimilitude of the real thing: the genuine article that’s a Mercer. And if past experience is any indicator, that means I’ll be left wanting. So, for the moment, the most perfect oxford-cloth button-down shirt sits in a box just ten feet away from me, but I can’t wear it. It’s heart breaking.

An Affordable Country Coat

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 09:01:00 -0700

Winter seems to be lingering, which has put me in the odd position of thinking about both madras shirts and warm winter clothes. Thus, I was off surfing the internet the other day searching for more sweaters to buy when I came across some interesting outerwear deals over at Alan Paine. Alan Paine, of course, is that famed British knitwear company that started in Godalming in 1907. Its founder, William Paine, is said to have invented the cable-knit sweater, but I admit I think the history of the cable knit might be more complex than that. What is certainly true, however, is that in his early days, William Paine went around to various cricket clubs, Army regiments, and schools, offering to make cable knit sweaters in each organization’s club colors.

And since the company’s founding, its list of clientele reads like many other storied British firms. The Duke of Windsor, for example, was once photographed wearing the company’s cricket sweaters in a colored trim. And when George Mallory’s long-lost dead body was found on Everest in 1999, he was identified by his nametag, which was sewn underneath a label that read: “WF Paine, Godalming.”

Since Americans had a difficult time pronouncing the company’s original name, “Godalming,” it was changed to Alan Paine once William’s son (Alan, naturally) took over in the 1950s. And from the mid-century until the 1980s, Alan Paine was known the world over for producing quality, English knitwear.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, however, competition from Chinese producers stiffened and consumers cared less and less about quality. With lack of government support, the landscape of British knitwear changed in the same way that British manufacturing as a whole has: many firms have folded or been forced to move offshore. Alan Paine has done the second, and now makes about 20% of their knitwear in Eastern Europe, with the balance in Madagascar. As James Hinton, the company’s current proprietor, explained to me last year, the reason they use Madagascar is that the skill level there is very high and many of their garments require hand finishing. All of their knits are fully fashioned, which means they are knitted to shape as opposed to being cut and sewn, and all the main stress points, such as the cuffs and point where the vee joins, are hand reinforced. The main components of the sweater are also hand linked (in a process called stitch to point linking), which means each stitch is joined to another stitch individually. These require skills that are vanishing from the remaining UK knitters, especially in the kind of volumes that Alan Paine requires.

I have no personal experience with Alan Paine’s post-2005 knitwear (which is when they moved offshore), but I will say that I think a garment’s quality is defined by much more than what country it was manufactured in (if one can even be so simplistic as to think manufacturing these days all takes place in one region). And I’ve owned many well made garments produced in China (gasp!).

But this post isn’t about Alan Paine’s knitwear, it’s about its outerwear, and they apparently carry some very attractive looking country tweed field coats and waxed cotton jackets. In the last year, I’ve been eyeing the checked Chrysalis coats at O’Connell’s and Ben Silver, as well as the Musto jackets at Mr. Porter. Not to mention how much Leonard Logsdail’s tweed coats make my heart palpitate (seriously, don’t look, as you’ll be forever unhappy with your station in life). They’re all undeniably beautiful, but prices are almost as awesome as the garments, which makes Alan Paine’s ~$250 options feel very appealing.

April in Poverty

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 09:13:00 -0700

Two kinds of men visit in April: tax collectors and tailors. It’s unfortunate because the first takes more than I was anticipating, and the second is who I’d like to give all of my money to. If tailors only came one or two months later, adding an extra sport coat or pair of trousers to an order wouldn’t seem so imprudent. In fact, it’s just for this one month that I’m sympathetic to conservative arguments against Big Government, if only because I can see how wasteful government spending is affecting my wasteful personal spending.

It wasn’t always this hard. It used to be that men had one of two ways to settle accounts with tailors. The first, which was most common, particularly in the West End of London, was to settle your balance on the start of your next commission. So if a man ordered his summer clothes in January and winter clothes in June, he’d settle his January bill in June. This came about because of the acute social distinction between the moneyed customers and humble tradesman. Tailors, fearing that they’d offend their customers (and thus drive them away) by bringing up the sensitive subject of payments at a bad time, often took the opportunity to be more diplomatic about it at the start of the next commission. This didn’t mean that accounts were always settled, of course, only that the topic could be politely broached. Which is why many dandies such as Beau Brummell were able to rack up such astonishing debts.

I also imagine this is partly why tailors preferred taking customers through a current client’s reference. Traditionally, this is said to be a result of the exclusive and discrete world that tailors operated in, but one can’t wonder if it’s more because tailors needed an implicit reference for someone’s credit worthiness.

In any case, the second practice was for the client to pay upfront, or “cash on the nail,” as they say. This wasn’t terribly common though since neither party had much incentive for it. Clients obviously didn’t want to pay for goods before they’ve been produced, and tailors often wanted to give clients a line of credit so they’d keep coming back. There’s very little profit to be had on the first or second order, given how labor intensive it is to hone in on a pattern, so it was in the long-term that a tailor made his living. This is still the case, incidentally, which is why when it’s possible, such as in shirtmaking, tailors will require four or five pieces on the first order.

The practice today, of course, is to pay half the order up front and the remaining balance upon delivery of goods. Which is great since tailors are screwed over less often and clients can still put off part of the payment until later (sometimes up to a year if it’s a traveling operation). Still, when the taxman comes, I can’t say I don’t envy the old system.

Anyway, if you’re in San Francisco, note that Napoli Su Misura will be here on April 5^th and 6^th; Steed Bespoke Tailors April 14^th and 15^th; and Thomas Mahon April 23^rd to the 25^th. If you’re not in San Francisco, check with each house to see if they visit your city. All three will be touring throughout the US for the next two months, and will kindly take credit card if the tax collector has left you too poor in April.

A Cold Shoulder in Vienna

Thu, 21 Mar 2013 09:08:00 -0700

The Wall Street Journal had a nice little article about Rudolf Scheer & Sohne last week. It reminded me of one of the benefits of being in Moscow. Whereas living in the US can be a bit geographically isolating, Moscow is a relatively short plane ride to East Asia or Western Europe. I was actually going to stop by Vienna last year on my way to Berlin, but when my plans in Germany were cancelled, so were the ones in Austria.

It’s quite regrettable because Vienna is said to be a sort of holdover from 19th century Europe, when every city had bespoke tailors, milliners, cordwainers, and glovemakers. Many of those Old World operations have moved on to ready-to-wear or simply disappeared in the 20th century, but Vienna seems to have kept much of these traditions alive, especially in shoemaking. In that trade alone, there’s Balint, Materna, Maftei, and Elfie Riedl, just to name a few. Some of these firms are said to be able to turn around a trial shoe within twenty-four hours, which makes stopover visits especially appealing.

The most famous of these makers, however, is probably Rudolf Scheer & Sohne (sohne being German for “sons”), a family owned business that has been handcrafting shoes since 1816. The house produces something around three hundred pairs of shoes a year, each pair taking about sixty hours to make, and refuses to increase production. Any more, they say, and the quality will suffer. They also refuse to travel, as they don’t think they can maintain quality that way.

London Lounge member Bengal Stripe once visited the premises and said it had something of a monastic feel. When you enter, there is an exhibition case featuring the shoes and lasts of the Kaiser, Austrian Emperor, and selected kings and princes. There is nobody at the entrance here to greet you, just a sign that says, “Please, go upstairs.” When you go up, you see numerous shoes standing around, in various stages of completion, waiting for their respective owners. Everything is dimly lit and people speak in hushed voices. Here, you meet Markus Scheer, the newest director who took over from his grandfather a few years ago. He’s been training for twenty years, cutting lasts and making shoes, and in the ~200 years of the company’s history, only members of the original family have been at the helm. Scheer told Bengal that they didn’t have any samples or collections of pictures to choose styles from. In fact, he denied that they had any style at all, and said that there was only one last: the correct one for the customer.

It’s unclear to me if perhaps Bengal and Scheer didn’t hit it off, or if the Internet rumors are true: that Rudolf Scheer & Sohne doesn’t have any need for new customers and they aren’t shy about letting you feel this (though, once you are a customer, they apparently take care of you for life, as recraftings and shoe polishings are always free). Who knows. I do hope to able to visit some day, however, and be given the cold shoulder first hand.

(Photos via Daniel Gebhart de Koekkoek, The Wall Street Journal, and Rudolf Scheer & Sohne)

The Under-Appreciated Cotton Suit

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 09:41:00 -0700

The cotton suit might be one of the most underappreciated garments in a summer wardrobe. Clients of bespoke tailors are often reluctant to commission them because the expensiveness of the labor can feel wasted on such a cheap material. Ready-to-wear manufacturers also don’t seem to stock many. This season, I’ve seen some nice selections by Brooks Brothers and Attolini, but not many more.

I used to dislike cotton suits because of their lack of “give.” If this isn’t clear, think of the difference between sticking your hands into the hip pockets of a cotton jacket vs. a wool one. The wool jacket will have a certain “give” that makes it more comfortable and, I imagine, adds to how well it drapes and moves. However, I’m starting to appreciate cotton’s advantages. For one, a cotton suit might be the most casual expression of a suit possible, which is useful in today’s age, where most men are seen wearing cargo shorts and untucked pineapple print shirts. They can also be more easily broken up into separates. A cotton jacket can be worn on its own without anyone ever having to think you’ve just come from the office, and the trousers can be used as chinos. And of course, cotton typically wears cooler than wool – all things being equal – which makes it quite useful on a warm day.

I’ve been thinking of commissioning one myself, though obviously it won’t be ready in time for this summer. The question is what color to make it. Navy is an obvious choice, though I think wearing navy all the time is a bit stifling. Better to go one shade lighter towards something like this French blue piece by Richard James. It’s a much more stylish color in the summer, if only because it better reflects the cheery mood of the season and adds some variation to one’s wardrobe.

The other options include khaki or olive. Khaki has the advantage of being as summery as French blue, though one ought to take care it doesn’t venture too close to cream. Once it becomes too light in color, I think the material would look better in linen. The third option, olive, is what I’m probably going with, simply because olive suits are harder to pull off in other materials. I’m thinking of getting mine made in a rougher cotton, such as Brisbane Moss’ panama weave, or something with a bit of cashmere blended into it, so that it’s a bit softer out of the box. We’ll see what the tailor advises.

Note, not all suits pictured here are cotton, but they should give you enough inspiration for one.

(Photos from: Patrick Johnson, The Sartorialist, Drake’s Diary, Tommy Ton, and Journal of Style)

The Best Moleskins Are Brown

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 08:59:57 -0700

For some reason, I’ve always thought of moleskins as being green. Perhaps it’s because when you see them modeled on British men for companies such as Hoggs of Fife or Cordings, they’re often in that dusty, slightly grey-ish shade of lovat, or something darker, such as olive. Well, either those or something obnoxiously loud such as red or yellow, but I could never see wearing such colors myself.

Recently, however, Yukio Akamine has been in the habit of posting photos of himself on his blog (in a charming series of posts he titles “Good Morning Akamine”), and I think he’s convinced me that the best moleskins are brown. Teamed with a brown country sport coat, cream crewneck sweater, striped shirt, and pair of brown shoes, the combination is at once sophisticated and pleasing. Much better, I think, than the tattersalls and brown tweeds that olive moleskins are typically shown with. And in this case, you get the advantage of being able to wear your moleskins more easily with green waxed-cotton Barbours. I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me before.

An online friend of mine recently lent me some shadecards from Brisbane Moss, and included in the bunch were some moleskin fabrics that I was thinking of choosing for trousers. I originally picked olive and didn’t think any more of it. Now I think I’ll have to revisit since the best moleskins are brown.

By Intelligent Design

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 09:00:42 -0800

I’m ready to declare Rubinacci’s Victory pocket square to be the most intelligently designed square ever invented (a small, possibly trivial accomplishment, but an important one in our world nevertheless). That’s because it solves a few problems.

First, it’s generally true that white squares are easiest to wear, if we’re to go by color only. Most solid white squares, however, are thinly woven linens, which more or less require the Presidential fold. The problem with the Presidential is that it can often seem too studied, at least to my eye. It fails to give the important impression that one stuffed a handkerchief into their jacket without ever having given it more than a second of thought, which is why a well executed puff will always looks more rakish. A solid white or cream square made from silk, on the other hand, is too reminiscent of prom or cheap entertainers. Thus, we’re left with either solid white linens, which are easy to match but look a bit studied, or a large world of patterned silks, which take a bit of thought before choosing in the morning.

Rubinacci’s Victory, however, gives the best of both worlds. It has large swaths of cream, white, and light blue so that it can easily complement any tie or shirt, and being silk, it gives the most ideal puff when stuffed into a pocket. If one gets bored with the light blues and creams, the square can be twisted a way to show whatever other colors are present at the border. The colors themselves are also broken up with a light design, thus preventing any mistaking that one bought this square at a cheap tuxedo rental shop. This is easily the most versatile square I’ve come across, and even more than the solid white linen, I’d argue, this is the one square to have.

A close second would be the Rubinacci’s tan Samurai square, which they made for the occasion of their Tokyo shop’s opening. Like the light blues, whites, and creams in the Victory, the slightly darker, parchment tans in the Samurai square will complement any tie or shirt, and it carries enough of a pattern to remove this from being a single-colored silk. The only downside is that the borders aren’t as differentiated in color, but the ground of square is versatile enough to compensate for that.

I don’t think this reliance on light blues, whites, creams, and tans is by accident. In fact, if you look at most Rubinacci pocket squares, the centers are almost always dominated by these colors. The centers, of course, are the parts that peek out the most from one’s pocket, which is why I think these were all made by intelligent design.

It used to be that Rubinacci’s squares were only available in Naples, unless one was willing to pay exorbitant fees for shipping. Luckily, at the moment we have two retailers with more accessible inventories and prices. The first is Exquisite Trimmings, who discounts VAT for customers outside of the EU, and the second is A Suitable Wardrobe, who has literally every Rubinacci square in every colorway possible. Except for the parchment-colored Samurai anyway. I bought that one last week.

The Rambler

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 09:02:00 -0800

A big, brown box with insignia-decorated tape arrived from London last week. Inside was my new trilby from the famous St. James’s Street hatters company Lock & Co. This one is their dark brown Rambler model, made from a Teflon-treated wool that makes it perfect for cold, drizzly days when an umbrella might be too much, but you still need some head protection. I thought it might be good for the coming spring showers, so I picked one up.

The trilby was first made popular in the late-19^th century, when a stage character was seen wearing one in George du Maurier’s famous play about a hypnotist named Svengali. That stage production was adapted from his 1849 novel titled Trilby, which is, of course, where we get the hat’s name. Today, it’s well-beloved by the horserace-loving fraternity in England, and for such men, visiting the racecourses without one would be almost unthinkable. It’s perhaps for this reason that in the canon of classic men’s clothing, the trilby is to weekend country wear what the homburg is to city business use (assuming one can even wear a homburg at all in today’s age).

One of the first things one notices about Lock & Co’s trilby is how “unconstructed” it feels. Made from nothing more than woolen felt, it’s rather soft and crushable. In fact, I was surprised to see mine come in a big box, with a little cardboard protector inside to keep the hat’s low crown safe. I was expecting it to come in a travel tube, like this, since this style of hat is meant to be rolled up and then stuffed into pockets. It might sound sacrilegious to treat a nice hat so roughly, but the charm from a trilby comes from exactly that. Like a Barbour jacket or pair of hunter wellies, it looks better beat up, misshapen, and heavily worn. When you see the Brits wear them at racetracks, each and every one looks like he regularly beats his hat against the rails as his racehorse comes barreling down the finish line.

Many those men also seem as though they’re wearing a hat size too small. This isn’t because British men don’t know their hat size. It’s because most inherit their trilbies from their fathers and grandfathers, and felted hats tend to shrink over time. Signs of genuine use and abuse is what separates the man who’s wearing the hat because it’s natural to him, and one who is just trying to look the part. Lock & Co has some care instructions posted on their website, but I don’t plan on paying attention to any of it. Hopefully in ten years’ time, mine will acquire the slouchy, almost floppy character that makes a good trilby charming.

Lock & Co. told me they never discount the Rambler on their website, so I bought mine at full price. I did find, however, that this model went for about $50 at Mr. Porter. Rather disappointed I missed out on that, but I suppose like at the races - sometimes you win some, sometimes you lose some.

Photos from Mister Crew, Ovadia & Sons, and Bernhard Roetzel’s Gentleman: A Timeless Guide to Fashion