Well, this is a surprise. The summer tweed I ran last year made it onto The Sartorialist, the first men’s style blog I ever followed. Pictured above is Kenji of Bryceland’s wearing the fabric in a handsome double-breasted. Bryceland’s, by the way, recently expanded into Hong Kong, which has made it possible for them to fulfill online orders. That means they now have a functioning webshop for those located outside of East Asia. 

Many thanks to everyone who supported that cloth run, by the way. It was genuinely fun to organize. Below are photos I’ve found around the web of people wearing the cloth – Max from the Armoury, Pete in San Francisco, Sartoria Formosa’s bespoke tailor Dionisio, Mitchell at Menswear Musings, and Andy from San Jose. 

No Man Walks Alone, a sponsor on this site, still has a few ready-to-wear sport coats made from the fabric. You can knock 10% off the listed price with the checkout code DWW10. It’s a wonderful cloth, I think, if you love the texture of tweed, but want something that’s light and breathable enough for summer. More details of the cloth can be found in this old post. I’m also planning to organize more custom cloth runs in the future, although I can’t imagine another one being featured at The Sartorialist. 

By their nature, basics aren’t very exciting to talk about, but they also form the backbone of our wardrobe. I imagine that’s one of the biggest challenges for Luca Faloni, a relatively new Italian company specializing in fine dress shirts, knitwear, and leather goods. They started in 2013 on the idea of selling high-end Italian products directly to consumers, cutting out the middleman and offering more value (a common marketing angle these days, even if the idea of value is more complicated in reality). But there’s an important difference between them and other brands doing the same thing. Since their items are so basic and simple, on first blush they can seem indistinguishable from the thousands of other products online. Think of how the market for white t-shirts work – since t-shirts are mostly fungible, they compete on price. 

Luca Faloni, the company’s founder and namesake, recognizes this. “We rely on word of mouth and repeat business,” he says. “Selling classic men’s shirts and knitwear on the internet comes with a lot of challenges, namely the customer can’t feel the materials. But we hope to offer such tremendous products, customers come back after their first purchase.” For Luca, this distinction on materials is paramount. He prides himself on using top-end Italian yarns, such as Cariaggi cashmere. In fact, the entire production process is done in Italy, from the yarn spinning to the cutting-and-sewing (although the fibers themselves are sourced elsewhere). 

The collection here is simple and likely wouldn’t catch many eyes on Instagram. In today’s attention economy, wardrobe basics such as these can fly by our screens. At the same time, they also form the foundation of the “casual Italian” look that’s popular among men who are trying to find new ways of dressing down their tailored clothing, or wear slightly more refined versions of casualwear. Luca Faloni has slim-fit linen shirts, in both spread and band collars, then some brushed cotton equivalents for cooler days. These are single-needle sewn with mother-of-pearl buttons and crows foot stitching (typical for this price point). They also have some basic knitwear, including plain crewnecks and shallower v-necks, as well as linen shorts. The entire collection has that semi-resort vibe that’s common in Italian casualwear. 

To understand male fashion today, you have to go back to The Great Masculine Renunciation. Somewhere around the time of Beau Brummell and The French Revolution, European elites traded their sumptuous garb for utilitarian clothes that underscored their commitment to work over aesthetics. Ornate fashion was for women, not “serious men” focused on living out a life of the mind. The difference between these two eras couldn’t be starker. Just compare how extravagantly King Louis XIV dressed to the sobriety of President Macron.

This split in history, which divides men’s dress like the BC and AD periods of the Gregorian calendar, explains our attitudes towards male jewelry. Jewelry has a strange place in the world of men’s accessories. Scarves, gloves, and wristwatches are acceptable because of their utility; pocket squares and neckties are OK for no other reason than tradition. But once you get beyond a modest wedding band, the idea of a man wearing something ornate, expensive, and metal seems tacky. They offend a certain sensibility we find difficult to pinpoint or even justify, but nonetheless stand by. 

After the Second World War, jewelry has come in and out of fashion depending on how we feel about gender and class. In the 1970s, when it was socially acceptable for men to show a more feminine side, hippies and counter-culture types wore bracelets and necklaces; high-flying business elites wore flat links with pinstriped suits in the ‘80s; and surfers have been known to use Saint Christopher medallions as good luck charms. Throughout these periods, many men have worn jewelry well – even magnificently. Like others in the Harlem Renaissance, Langston Hughes occasionally wore a silver onyx ring to show a bit of personality. Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Paul Newman sported chunky, silver ID bracelets with jeans and t-shirts. And Yves Saint Laurent, one of the chicest to ever wear a suit, accessorized with a precious metal bracelet. 

Most books on men’s tailoring aren’t very good. Many recycle the same Wikipedia entries, or they do little more than serve as PR mouthpieces for a company. Sometimes they have a few good photos, but they’re the sorts of things you look at once and never remember. Rare is a book like Lance Richardson’s House of Nutter, which is one of the best books on Savile Row I’ve read in years.

House of Nutter is about the life and times of Tommy Nutter, a Savile Row salesman who created one of the most important tailoring houses in the post-war era. During the ‘60s, most of Savile Row specialized in staid and conservative suits, often following old traditions. Nutter, who originally worked the front of house at Donaldson, Williamson & Ward, wanted something more daring – something bolder. And he was able to turn that dream into a reality through Edward Sexton, the technical genius behind the curtain. Together, they made a look that defined the 1970s. Their house style was full-bodied and long, with a leafy silhouette, strong shoulders, and lapels so enormous, they nearly grazed the sleeveheads. Edges were sometimes taped; patch pockets cut on a bias. Mick Jagger, John Lennon, and Elton John – among many other celebs – wore their bombastic creations, and the tailoring continues to inspire designers today. 

Richardson’s book is great because it captures all of the romance of the clothes, as well as the bespoke process, without falling for the naive illusions common among laypeople (or, frankly, most fashion writers). It doesn’t get misty-eyed about bespoke tailoring, but also doesn’t feel cynical or technically sterile. Most of all, Richardson’s book is about the very thing that give clothes life – culture. This is a book about rock ‘n roll, the gay London scene during the 1970s, and even AIDS epidemic (which ultimately took Tommy Nutter’s life). An excerpt from the preface:

English fashion designer Hardy Amies had a simple rule for getting dressed: if it looks right, it is right. The only rule for combining colors is to create a visually pleasing outfit, but doing so requires more than transplanting concepts from art theory books. Fashion isn’t like other art forms, to the degree it can be called an art form itself, and you can’t combine colors for an outfit in the way an artist would for a painting. There’s a social and emotional language to clothing. A neatly folded, white linen pocket square says business in a way that other squares don’t. 

Most people know the basics when it comes to color combinations. Grey trousers and blue jeans go with almost anything; dress shirts are often best in solid white and light blue. It’s moving beyond the basics that becomes challenging. How do you wear lighter colored sport coats? Which colors besides grey and tan work for trousers? How do you wear brighter, more unusual colors without looking like an Easter egg?

I recently spoke to Greg Lellouche about these questions. Greg, for those unfamiliar, is the founder of No Man Walks Alone (a sponsor on this site, although this isn’t a sponsored post). I’ve always admired Greg’s eye when it comes to color combinations. Before launching his online store, he worked as an investment banker on Wall Street, where he had to wear a suit-and-tie every day. At the same time, he often wears more progressive labels such as Stephen Schneider and Junya Watanabe on weekends. That appreciation for both classic men’s dress and avant garde casualwear, I think, gives him a unique perspective. Greg wears things that are a little off the beaten path, but in ways that I think are easy for others to adopt. 

Are you proud of yourself for not having splurged too much this season? Well reward yourself by spending all of your savings on these mid-season sales. At least that’s what I did last night, picking up an RRL t-shirt, some Lemaire trousers, and a few bags of coffee beans (had to re-up). There are some really good mid-season sales right now, ranging from Edward Green shoes to Pure Blue Japan flannels to Eidos suits. Some notables:

Brooks Brothers: Extra 25% off Clearance Items

Take an additional 25% off already-discounted items in the sale section. I mostly shop here just for the shoes nowadays, many of which are made by Allen Edmonds, Alden, Crockett & Jones, and Alfred Sargent (just look for descriptions that say made-in-USA or made-in-England). With the discount, you can snag these suede wingtips for $149; penny loafers for $239; and Red Wing chukkas for $183. Solid deals. 

I’ve been really into bolder shirts lately, which I think of as a spring equivalent of textured knitwear. Menswear writers often list your basic, plainly colored v-necks as wardrobe staples, but I find they only work well under suits and sport coats. On their own, they’re a bit too bland, a bit too business casual. So I prefer things that are more textured, such as spongey lambswools, twisted cables, or flecked Donegals. I find them more versatile. And infinitely better looking. They add visual interest to a simple sweater-and-jeans outfit and can be layered under casual outerwear. 

It’s harder to wear textured knitwear this time of year, but the same idea applies to shirts. A bolder shirt pushes an outfit away from business casual territory; it adds visual interest. And while I still like crisp white linens and light-blue oxford-cloth button-downs – even on their own with tailored trousers or jeans – it helps to have some bolder prints for casual situations. They’re not as versatile as textured knitwear, but still useful when you want to make a spring outfit more stylish. The best ones I’ve found this season:

I’m convinced that no one who likes clothes can possibly like spring. The clothes are often less interesting; there’s less opportunity for layering. The cuts reveal more than conceal, and few of us look good naked. Whereas dressing for winter can be something of a paint-by-numbers exercise, dressing for spring is more like trying to solve a puzzle. How do you dress well, but also comfortably? 

It always takes me a while to switch wardrobes this time of year, but I often go back to the same things – breathable tailoring, button-down shirts, and loafers. For casualwear, it’s usually a field jacket or chore coat, then some raw denim jeans (gotta get those fades). I also like bolder shirts nowadays with unusual collars. If you’re looking for some style inspiration this spring, here are three things I’m really into at the moment. 

Some Spring Tailoring

Much has been made of the revival of ‘90s style – the boxy suits, mallcore tees, and chunky sneakers. If you scroll through the new arrivals section at SSENSE, you’ll find tons of references to that decade’s punk, skate, and even corporate dress culture. The silhouettes are baggy; the clothes hint at teen angst. Even for people who don’t care for most of the clothes, which includes me, it’s hard to deny there’s a bit of sweet sentimentality here that naturally comes with nostalgia. I remember the ‘90s fondly. 

The clothes are just superficial, however, covering up what I think is the more defining revival – the sense of irony that was pervasive during the early-aughts. It’s the idea that some things can be so awful, so ugly, and so stupid, they’re ironically considered good. The actual ‘90s wasn’t about irony, it was about apathy, the other defensive mechanism we use to shield ourselves from scrutiny. Irony is about turning something on its head and laughing at it; apathy is about not caring at all. Either way, both are a dissimulation – a way to conceal our true feelings. 

Princeton professor Christy Wampole wrote a good opinion piece on this at The New York Times, where she says irony is the ethos of our age, “the primary mode with which daily life is dealt.” However, since this was published years ago, it was more about the middle class, often white, hipster that lives in coastal cities – the kind that yearns for authenticity, but shuns sincerity. Wampole writes that irony is used today as a defensive mechanism to preempt shame, a tool to hide vulnerable emotions: