If you’ve read menswear blogs for any length of time, you’re probably well acquainted with the basics of proper shoe care. Give your shoes a day of rest in between each wear and insert cedar shoe trees when they’re not in use. When the leather starts to look a bit dry, apply leather conditioner and use some polish to help raise a shine. If you have the time and inclination, you can also bull the toe caps and heel cups in order to give your shoes a bit of flashy detailing.

There’s another shoe care technique – wear your shoes as often as possible, put them through hell, apply leather conditioner sparingly, and do little else. This is particularly good for workboots, where you want the age to show. The best example of this might be a pair of service boots Andrew Chen (3sixteen’s co-founder) bought from Viberg two years ago. You can see them here new and here after eighteen months of wear. Andrew tells me he did little to take care of his shoes except wipe them down with a damp cloth every once in a while. Truthfully, they don’t seem like they were even wiped down that often, and that’s probably why they look so great.

I liked how Andrew’s shoes looked so much that I recently picked up these service boots his company made with Viberg as part of their Decade Collection (a special line of products made in celebration of 3sixteen’s tenth year anniversary). These were modeled after Andrew’s original service boots, only this time, they come in black and olive. Mine are the second, though olive is a strange name for the color. They’re more like the dirty brown shown on 3sixteen’s site. The leather is Horween’s Chromepak, which is a pull-up leather that’s considerably more oily and stuffed than the company’s famous Chromexcel. That means the material is exceptionally soft and pliable, and that scuffs come out easier than your regular pull-ups.

The olive Chromepak is unfortunately all sold out, and probably won’t be made again since Horween has run out of the material. I actually bought the last pair (sorry) and it was the sample, which is why the tongue is made from a matching olive Chromepak leather, rather than the contrasting black you see on the final design. However, a few sizes of the black version are left (be sure to size down a full size), and Andrew tells me that they’ll be continuing this boot into the future with other materials. The price isn’t cheap, but the quality is outstanding. Once well-aged, these are the kind of shoes that would look perfect with a pair of faded, raw jeans; an old, white cotton t-shirt; and a beat-up leather jacket. I don’t think I’ve ever looked so forward to destroying an expensive purchase. 

Keep reading

Two years after seeing a pair of handsome, single-buckle boots on master tailor Antonio Panico, I finally got a chance to own a pair through Edward Green’s made-to-order program. Like Panico’s, mine have a single buckled-strap going across the top of each shoe, where laces would otherwise be. Unlike his black sueded pair, however, mine are made from Edward Green’s dark oak leather, which I would argue is the best dark brown calf in the business. These were also made on the company’s conservative, round-toe 202 last, and finished with light antiquing at the toes and slightly weathered-looking brass buckles.

Edward Green recently revamped their made-to-order program so that there are now two tiers. Well, three if you count Top Drawer. Top Drawer is the company’s premium made-to-order service, where shoes are produced with fiddleback waists, the client’s initials pegged into each sole, and extra time and attention at each stage of the manufacturing process. My chukkas (and the Shannons I wrote about earlier this year) were ordered through the standard made-to-order program, which was recently split into two offerings (at least when you go directly through Edward Green). For simple customizations, such as a change in leather, the upcharge is now just 150 GBP, while more complicated requests, such as a change in the pattern, will cost more.

This makes Edward Green’s made-to-order service much more affordable for people like me – people who are just looking for a standard model made in a different leather, or for an old archived model to be made again. From my last count, the company has over twenty-five leathers, and they keep adding more. This past year, for example, they just got in something called Delapre, which I’m told is an extra fatty, extra waxy material that’s good for wet weather conditions. If you’re not in London, swatches of these materials can be sent to you for your choosing.

The only downside is that for archived shoes, there’s still no catalog that contains everything. So, for that, you’ll have to browse StyleForum, keep an eye out at various stockists (Leffot carried this single buckled chukka last year), or go though An Uptown Dandy and Centipede (two sites with pictures of old Edward Green models).

Keep reading

On books regarding classic men’s clothing, much of the field can be broken up accordingly. There are books on how to dress well, which serve no other function than to give men a practical guide on how to improve their state of dress. Some of the better titles in this category include Dressing the Man, A Guy’s Guide to Style, and Esquire’s Handbook of Style. Then there’s an assortment of books for people who take a particular interest in menswear, beyond learning how they can dress well. These include history books such as Esquire’s Encyclopedia and History of Men’s Fashion, as well as various “academic” titles, such Ready-Made Democracy and The Men’s Fashion Reader. 

The biggest category can only be described as titles that are little more than dressed-up picture books (though obviously that’s not what these books bill themselves as). Of the recent releases, I like A Style is Born and Bespoke, and Vintage Menswear was surprisingly fun. I also really enjoy Francois Baudot’s somewhat awkwardly titled The Allure of Men. Whereas most books focus on just Anglo traditions in the 19th and 20th centuries, The Allure of Men goes all the way back to the 17th century and includes more of Continental Europe. There are also bits of Africa, East Asia, and the Middle East thrown in, but this is still largely about Western modes of dress. 

The Allure of Men has a long essay on the history of menswear, which is good, but can be a bit too basic for someone who has already read a few of these sorts of essays. The real value is in the images, which showcase different forms of masculine style since the Romantic period. Like all good picture books, it captures something many of the aforementioned categories don’t: that style is a lot more than being able to select well-made clothes and discern how something should fit. There’s a certain intangible quality that makes something distinctive and attractive. I wish I could say this is just a result of good photography, but I’ve met men who share the same tailor, and some simply carry their clothes better than others.

To that end, I’ve always thought it’s good to have a few of these picture books around, so that we’re reminded to not be too narrowly focused when it comes to menswear. There’s so much written about pattern combination and color coordination, yet so little about the manner in which we wear what we do. As Bruce Boyer suggested Eminently Suitable (another great book, by the way), perhaps this is because wearing clothes well is still something of an art, not a science. Men who wear clothes well “wear them well apart from being properly coordinated, or having pleasing physical attributes, or buying expensive clothes, or following the rules of the trends or even the conventions.” Some guys simply know how to look good in their duds.  

Keep reading

There are so many online guides for what you should buy, but nothing substitutes for experience. Every fall, for instance, I go into the season thinking I should wear my jodhpur boots more often, and every winter, they remain barely touched. I bought a chestnut tan pair from Ralph Lauren four or five years ago, and haven’t worn them more than a handful of times. I blamed their lack of versatility on the color, as I find lighter colored shoes to be harder to wear than dark ones, so I foolishly bought another pair in dark brown (luckily, I didn’t pay anywhere near Ralph Lauren’s retail price). Remarkably, those have been worn even less. The problem is that they can look too distracting when worn with tweeds, and too costumey with waxed or quilted jackets. The only time I’ve seen them look good is in various streetwear ensembles, which I don’t have a good wardrobe for. 

So, I’ve been thinking about trading in these jodhpurs for some new Chelseas, which may or may not be as equally useless. On the upside, Mark from The Armoury (pictured above) always looks great in his, and I know a few men who swear by their boots. I can see how a dark brown pair in either suede or calf could look great underneath some jeans, and how a black pair can smarten up some grey flannel trousers. And although I dislike sport coats with jeans, I have to admit Michael J. Fox looks pretty good in his jacket, jeans, and Chelsea boots in the opening to his new TV show.

The best Chelseas I’ve seen are John Lobb’s Chesland and Edward Green’s Newmarket, but I’m reluctant to spend that kind of money on something I’m not sure I’d wear all too often. A bit more affordable are Carmina, Sid Mashburn, and Crockett and Jones, with the last having three versions (model 3 being the sleekest, 5 being the roundest, and 8 being a nice compromise between two). Foster & Son also has a really nice version in their ready-to-wear line. Those still clock in at around $500, which is a lot to spent on something you might not wear that often, but it’s also hard to know until you own them. 

(Photos via The Armoury, Esquire UK, AlexHold, Mr. Porter, Sid Mashburn, and Skoaktiebolaget)

Keep reading

It’s not hard to find yourself buying too much when you have an interest in clothing, but on the upside, the longer you’ve been interested, the easier it is to be selective. I remember when I first started trying to dress well, I accumulated all sorts of accessories I didn’t need. Like a useless number of belts, which, over time, I found myself reaching for only a select few - dress belts with a stitched edge to wear with woolen trousers; thick leather belts to wear with jeans; and simple bridle leather belts to wear with chinos. Things such as ribbon belts, surcingles, or belts with unique closures (o-rings, D-rings, etc) all sat untouched in my closet, as I’ve found them to look too distracting when actually worn.

Recently, Marcus Wiley gifted me one of his bridle leather belts. Bridle leather, as many may know, is a vegetable tanned cowhide that has been finished with fats, waxes, and tallow. The leather was originally created for bridle reins used in horse riding, which is of course where the material takes its name. Marcus sources his bridle leather from a tannery located in the West Midlands region of England, and it’s as good as any other bridle leather I’ve seen. The material is flexible enough to be manipulated, but strong enough to hold, and both sides have been well finished enough to not rub.

Creating a belt is simple enough, though it does take fifteen steps. The leather gets tail punched, creased, beveled, and then dyed. The buckles he uses (which are made through a wax casting method) are then attached by handstitching the end of the belt. Finally, the edges are burnished and the final product is polished and stamped before being sent off to the customer. Marcus’ belts are just as nicely made as those that I’ve bought from Equus (another fine maker of bridle leather belts), and both seem better than the one I’ve bought from Narragansett. The stitching at the end, for example, is done much more cleanly on my Wiley Brothers belt than my Narragansett.

One can find Marcus’ products at any number of places. He happens to make belts for companies such as Ledbury, J. Press, Sid Mashburn, and JL Powell. Kind of surprising given that he’s a one-man shop (though I hear he recently just got in an apprentice). You can also order directly from him through his website. Mine is the “traditional” model made from a richly colored Havana brown. It’s very well made, but also very simple looking, which over the years is exactly the kind of belt I’ve found I reach for the most. 

Keep reading

The main problem with working with a traveling tailor is that commissioning garments can require long lead times. With only three or four visits per year, completing an order can take up to fifteen months if you require at least three fittings. On the upside, many traveling operations are quite good, which means if you have access to one, you can often get something quite special. 

Napoli Su Misura just finished their most recent tour of the US earlier this month, which included a stop by San Francisco’s Orchard Hotel. At the visit, I was able to pick up my latest order. Included was a brown checked faux tweed from John G. Hardy’s Worsted Alsport book. I say “faux” because real tweed is a prickly, rough woolen, while “faux tweed” is a worsted wool made to look like the real thing. The rustic pattern gives the material some country charm, while the smooth texture allows it to be still business appropriate.   

There was also a single-breasted, 3/2 roll sport coat made from a petrol blue Minnis Fresco, and the cigar linen suit I wrote about last year. Each jacket was made with slightly wider lapels and a lower gorge than my last order, and but I retained some signature Neapolitan details. Namely, there’s the spalla camicia shoulder, with its telltale waterfall sleevehead, and double stitching on the Fresco and linen pieces. Double stitching refers to the two lines of hand picked stitching you see along the edges of the lapels and pockets. Neapolitans say this helps reinforce the construction of their garments, while skeptics say it’s just a stylistic detail that helps keep a jacket casual. Count me in the second camp.

There were a couple of other details I requested: two pen holders in every jacket, with one short enough to hold a highlighter (making every jacket a semi-reading jacket), and a small, button flap, interior pocket for my cell phone. The trousers have an excessive eight buttons at the fly, which Napoli Su Misura calls “tailor style.” That sounds very romantic, and romance is needed given how much fiddling you’ll have to do in the crotch region to secure all these buttons. And just in case eight wasn’t enough, I had two more put at each leg opening (a detail I admittedly stole from Salvatore Ambrosi), so that the cuffs can be easily opened and cleaned out. 

Keep reading

Readers who have their suits and sport coats custom made might be interested in a special fabric run I’m putting together. The current book of J&J Minnis Fresco only has one solid dark brown, the 0518, and to my eye (as well as my tailor’s), it’s too dark for an odd jacket. So, I’m hoping to commission a special run of brown Fresco, something similar to the swatch you see above. 

Fresco, for those unfamiliar, is a trademarked term (like Kleenex) for an open weave worsted from J&J Minnis of Huddersfield. The high-twist cloth is woven to resist wrinkling and allow a lot air to pass through, thus making it ideal for summer. It’s a bit rougher to the hand than other tropical wools, such as Smith’s Finmeresco or Holland & Sherry’s Crispaire, which I think makes it exceptionally nice for suits meant to be broken up into separates, or for just sport coats themselves. Super smooth wools are for wimps anyway. 

I’m currently talking to Huddersfield Fine Worsteds to see how we can commission this run, but my guess is that we’ll need a minimum order of 60 meters. I’m currently at ~52m, which leaves just two or three more slots for people. If you’re interested, please email me. I’m hoping to get a color similar to sport coat my e-friend Voxsartoria is wearing in the first photo below, or perhaps one shade lighter than the double breasted suit he’s wearing in the second image. The weight will be 10oz. 

 

Keep reading

I’ve been wanting another game bag - the kind built from a sturdy canvas cloth and trimmed with vegetable-tanned leather. These are, to be sure, built for sportsmen, but I find they’re also perfect for lugging things around a city. A pocket intended for tackle can be used to hold a laptop charger, and any large compartment meant for game can be used to store laptops, books, and some papers. Used with a Barbour jacket and some boots, I can’t think of anything better.

I bought a tan fishing bag last year from Ralph Lauren, and was hoping to get the green one this season for variety. It sadly didn’t make it to their sale, so I’ve been looking to more traditional English makers. At the top of the list is Chapman, a company named after and started by John Chapman in the early 80s, right after Barbour acquired the bag maker Liddesdale (where John Chapman had been working). It was a risky, but ultimately smart move, as Barbour would eventually shut down Liddesdale and move its bag production overseas. By that time, however, Chapman was already a thriving business selling British made bags all over the world, winning over the hearts of outdoorsmen, and even producing for brands such as Holland & Holland and Purdey.

Chapman is now owned by Daniel Chamier, a former banker who took over the company in 2006. The operations remain the same, however. There are just sixteen full-time employees, who do everything from hand-cutting the original patterns to finishing all the traditional saddlery work. In addition, not only are the bags produced in the UK (in Carlisle, just four miles from my tailor, coincidentally), but they also use UK materials. Tweeds are from Scotland, wools from Yorkshire, and leathers from a tannery in Kent. These are fully English, inside and out. 

I’m told that while fishing and shooting bags still make up a big part of the company’s business, most of their bags are used for non-sport purposes. In fact, it seems that they’re looking to expand that range. This past year was the company’s first showing at Pitti Uomo, and they’re continuing to build collaborations with fashion brands and stores around the world. For example, some of their best products (to my eye anyway), are done with the stylistic direction of companies such as London Undercover and No Man Walks Alone, who take standard models and spec them with their own choices in materials and colors.

Keep reading

There’s much written about the kind of sportswear associated with sports few men play (polo, quail hunting, boating, etc), but little about the clothes we need for the kind of sports most of us engage in. Recently, however, it seems that everyone has picked up the new Gyakusou collection - that special collaboration project, now in its third year, between sportswear giant Nike and Japanese designer Jun Takahashi. Takahashi is famous for his cult fashion label Undercover, but he’s also an avid runner, regularly covering 10-15k distances in his hometown of Tokyo. The name of the collaboration is actually taken from his running group, the Gyakusou International Running Association. “Gyaku” means reverse or wrong way, and “sou” means run or running. Together, the word gyakusou is a reference to the group’s practice of running counter-clockwise around the parks of Tokyo, rather than the standard clockwise direction.

The line is essentially high-end fashion athletic apparel aimed at runners, and this season’s collection differs from those of the past in that it’s a bit more functional and simplistic in form. Gone are the extras zippers and pockets that have been previously used to distinguish the line as “designer,” and instead of color blocking, we see simple tonal colorways. What stays, however, are functional details. The collection’s best jacket, for example, has a small, unique chest pocket, just big enough for a set of keys so that they don’t jingle when you run. There’s also a zippered back that reveals some highly breathable mesh, so you can get more ventilation if necessary. In addition, the line continues to use Nike’s innovative technologies. The fabrics are lightweight and designed to wick sweat away from the skin, and certain panels are made with stretchier fabrics in order to allow greater ease of movement.

There’s a part of me that recognizes how ridiculous all this is. I wouldn’t consider myself a runner, but I do run about three or four miles a day, I appreciate the sport for its simplicity. All one needs is a pair of proper running shoes. The over-design of these clothes, on the other hand, remind me of Grant Petersen’s book Just Ride, which encourages bicyclists to get away from the ultra lightweight gear, flashy jerseys, and clunky shoes, and return to the simple joy of riding. Most people are not training for the Tour de France, after all, just as I imagine most people buying Gyakusou are not doing serious marathons. 

At the same time, it’s difficult to find attractive running clothes, and to the extent we use clothing to look and feel good, is it so bad to like this line? After trying on a few pieces, I already want one of the jackets, and although the shoes are not practical for a pronator like me, I wouldn’t mind using a pair for short ~2 mile runs.

Keep reading

Sometimes you find the perfect thing and want lots of it. It doesn’t make for very good financial management, but so long as a purchase doesn’t send you into debt, I don’t see the problem with the occasional indulgence. It just has to come with a lot of guilt and shame, lest you make a habit of it.

My perfect thing came last year in the form of a navy Shetland sweater from O'Connell’s. As I mentioned at Put This On, Shetlands are scratchy sweaters heavily rooted in casual American style. Brooks Brothers brought them over in 1904, and they’ve been popular ever since. There’s even a story about how women used to raid the men’s knitwear department at Brooks Brothers for Shetlands, until the company decided to make a special version just for them. Of course, that may well be a story invented for marketing purposes.

You can get Shetlands today from any number of places. LL Bean and Brooks Brothers will have affordable versions, though the second has been slightly ruined with a logo embroidery. Nicer pieces can be bought from Bill’s Khakis and The Andover Shop, while Albam, Howlin’ by Morrison, and Neighbour will have pieces for the younger customer.

What makes O'Connell’s particularly special is the construction. I’ve found mine to not pill as much as the ones I’ve bought from Brooks Brothers, and it feels a bit sturdier than the pieces I’ve handled at Neighbour and Beams. It’s also just the right weight - not as light and thin as the cheaper versions, but also not as thick as Bill’s Khakis. It’s the perfect thing to wear alone with an oxford cloth button down shirt and some khakis or corduroys, or layered underneath a Barbour Bedale or LL Beans’ yellow trail jacket. That's exactly how I wore my navy Shetland last year on a trip to Seattle and Vancouver.

Keep reading