Search Results for: italian tailoring

Japan has one of the most vibrant communities of bespoke tailors and shoemakers in the world, but you may not know it if you live in the US. Few get written about on English-language blogs, and fewer still visit the US. For most of us, it’s hard to find information about Japanese artisans – and nearly impossible to order things. 

A lot of this has to do with the size of your average Japanese firm. It’s easier for larger tailoring houses on Savile Row to travel – they have more well-recognized names, and if one or two customers drop out, it doesn’t make much of a difference to their overall business. Things are different for smaller companies. A few dropped orders can financially kill overseas trips, and they typically don’t have the support staff necessary back home to scale up. These are the same reasons why you don’t see many traveling Italian tailors – most of the firms are small. 

It’s too bad since a lot of Japanese tailoring is great. Take Noriyuki Ueki, for example. He started his career at Ring Jacket in 2001, before moving to Naples four years later to apprentice at Sartoria Dalcuore, working under master tailor Antonio Pascariello. In 2008, Ueki moved back to Japan to start his own firm, Sartoria Ciccio, and recently opened his owned atelier in the Minami-Aoyama district of Tokyo. 

I really want to go to Italy this year to commission some things from a few tailors. There’s been a lot of talk lately about how bespoke tailoring is on the decline – things aren’t as good as they were a generation ago and tailoring shops are slowly being converted into ready-to-wear brands. There’s a kernel of truth in that, but there’s also a lot of new talent in the trade and inspiring work being done. I’m not as down on traditional crafts as some of my friends. 

It is true, however, that the older generation is starting to retire, especially in Italy. And when they go, they’ll take with them their sense of style. Not that the younger generation is bad – the two are just different. The older generation is more inspired by 1950s fashion, while the younger generation makes things a bit flashier and, at times, more form fitting (with exceptions). I like both, but there’s something special to me about that older generation look. 

I thought about this other day as I was looking through these photos of Kentaro Nakagomi, owner of the new outerwear label Coherence. Kentaro gets some of his things from Loris Vestrucci, an older Florentine tailor who was a legend of his time, but is rarely talked about online. Unfortunately, Vestrucci is semi-retired now. He’ll still make things for some of his clients, but he won’t take new customers. Trust me, I tried. 

Gloves aren’t just a style statement this time of year; they’re a practical necessity if you live someplace cold. I’m in Canada at the moment, visiting family, and can’t even leave the house without a pair already on. Plus, check out Luciano Barbera’s beautifully aged gloves pictured above – old and richly patina’d from years of use. Such gracefully aged gloves can be a nice way to add interest to a winter ensemble. 

If you can only own one pair, get them in dark brown. Something made from a soft and supple Nappa leather will be versatile enough to go with almost anything. You’ll also want to get them wool-lined, if not at least cashmere-lined. Unlined gloves fit closer to the hand, but you’ll appreciate the added warmth of wool-lined gloves when temperatures drop below forty. 

If you have room for more than one pair, however, I think it’s nice to get some that go with certain outfits. Think about the material, stitching, lining, and even silhouette (yes, gloves have silhouettes). A rundown of what I find particularly useful for my wardrobe:

Even for guys who have been reading about bespoke tailoring for years, the world of bespoke footwear remains opaque. There’s not a lot of published information on the subject, and what’s available is often written in Japanese. Next month, however, there will be a new English text that promises to be interesting. Master Shoemakers is a new book by Gary Tok (known to some as gazman70k on StyleForum). For the last couple of years, he’s been traveling around the world, meeting and and talking with shoemakers – partly as a client looking for nice shoes, but also as a writer documenting a dying craft. 

Master Shoemakers features eleven shoemakers and shoemaking firms from France, Germany, Italy and the UK. They included storied names such as GJ Cleverley, John Lobb Bootmaker, and Foster & Son, as well as niche artisans such as Anthony Delos, Hidetaka Fukaya, Benjamin Klemann, Roberto Ugolini, and Stefano Bemer (before his passing). As far as I know, this is the only book of its kind. I recently sat down with Gary to talk about his project. 

What spurred you to write this book?

I like clothes in the summer that make you feel like you’re at home. Loosely-cut linen shirts that feel like pajamas, softly-tailored sport coats that disappear from your mind, and unlined loafers that wear like bedroom slippers. With the right clothes, every cafe and office can vaguely feel like you’re still bumming around your living room. 

I recently picked up a new pair of unlined pennies – Edward Green’s Harrow, which I’ve been pining over for years. On the surface, they’re just an unlined loafer with a pie-crust apron, much like you’d find on the company’s Dovers. The design, however, is actually by Wildsmith, a famed bespoke shoemaking firm that lasted for seven generations before shutting down. The company used to travel with some of London’s best tailoring companies, offering what they called their “three s’s”: shoes, shirts, and suits. 

The style was originally a bespoke country-house shoe made for King George VI, younger brother to the Duke of Windsor, Edward VIII. As the story goes, they were made slightly big so that he could wear them indoors with shooting hose. At some point, Wildsmith shut down the bespoke side of their operation and sold ready-made shoes produced by Edward Green (and, at times, Crockett & Jones). That’s how the Wildsmith loafer became the Edward Green Harrow. 

There are a lot of guides these days on how to dress for your body type. Some people argue that shorter men do better in two-button jackets, as they have a longer lapel line (and thus give the illusion of greater height by virtue of extending those vertical lines). Others say that heavy men should avoid double-breasted jackets, as the extra bit of wraparound cloth can add visual weight. 

I’ve never bought too much into those arguments, partly because there are so many good counterexamples to every rule. Plus, most of those writers seem to rely more on rhetorical devices than actual evidence. 

There are two rule-of-thumbs I follow, however. First, shorter jackets make you look heavier than you are, which means they’re only ever good on stick-thin models whose shoulders are broader than their hips. Second, if you have a less-than-athletic figure, you may benefit from having a little extra room in the shoulders and chest. The second is known as drape; the first an extended shoulder. 

Every once in a while, I’ll get an email from a reader asking which companies I think offer the best value in tailored clothing. It’s impossible to answer, as so much depends on the buyer’s needs. What kind of style does he like? What’s his body type? How often does he plan to wear his suit? What kinds of things does he prioritize? Buying clothes is never just about getting the best quality for your money – it’s about developing personal style – so recommending something is difficult. 

If pressed, however, there are two companies I particularly like. On the lower-end of the price scale, there’s Suitsupply. Their marketing is God awful, but if you can get past the presentation, they offer nicely made, half-canvassed suits and sport coats for about $500. With a huge range of styles, from their structured Washington to the softer Havana, they have something for almost anyone. 

If you have a bit more money to spend, Sartoria Formosa is remarkably good – and perhaps the closest you’ll get to bespoke Neapolitan tailoring without actually going bespoke. Formosa is an old Neapolitan tailoring house located across the courtyard from EG Cappelli, in the city’s seaside shopping district of Chiaia. They’re a small workshop, with maybe only a half dozen people working in-house. Most of what they do is bespoke, but they also offer ready-made suits and sport coats for about $1,400 - $1,800. 

Southern Italians are famous for their soft tailoring, but nobody really does a soft jacket like the Spanish. Specifically their Teba – a country jacket that comes mostly unpadded throughout the chest and shoulders, and features those signature shirt-like sleeves, ventless backs, and most importantly, notchless lapels. In a world where everything is being homogenized, the Teba is one of the last articles of men’s clothing that’s still unique to a region. 

Stories regarding the style are a bit murky. Some say the original Teba was a gift to the Count of Teba, Carlos de Mitjans y Fitz-James Stuart (known affectionately to his closest friends as Bunting), from King Alfonso XIII. Others say the exchange was the other way around. Others still say the jacket was originally made on London’s Savile Row and then adapted by a Spanish tailor to fit the Count’s needs. Whatever the actual origins, the Count almost certainly popularized it, and he most likely wore it out in the Spanish countrysides, where he spent time drinking wine and hunting quail. Over the years, it’s become an iconic piece of Spanish countrywear, mostly surviving on its comfort and aura of romanticism.

Construction wise, the Teba is something like a shirt jacket, combining the unstructured Neapolitan form with British-like-style. The notchless lapels may look odd at first, but they’re hardly even noticeable in dark fabrics. When worn, they give the jacket a more casual vibe. The ventless back and shirt-like sleeves also keep things casual, while the unlined and (largely) unpadded interior make things look relaxed. 

It’s bittersweet to see my hometown Vancouver change so much over the years. When I was growing up, it was a quiet, sleepy city with cloudy weather and an easy-going attitude (something like a Canadian version of their neighbors in Seattle). Nowadays, the place feels a lot more hip and bustling. Their menswear scene, for example, rivals that of any North American city’s outside of New York. You have Roden Gray and Haven for high-end streetwear; Dutil and NiftyDo for denim and denim-related things; and a dozen or so shops for everyday labels such as APC and Gitman Vintage.

One of my favorites is Neighbour – a small, cozy boutique that’s tucked away inside one of Gastown’s hidden courtyards. Although the shop is Canadian, it has a Scandinavian sense of simplicity. Its interior relies a lot on glass, light-colored woods, and concrete, and instead overcrowding the small space with too many racks and shelves, everything feels spacious and manageable.

Some of what Neighbour carries is probably too designer-y for the average reader here, although I think it’s all great. 1205′s Paula Gerbase, for example, worked for a while on Savile Row before starting her very modern, austere-looking sportswear label (she’s also designing a footwear line for John Lobb). Additionally, Christophe Lemaire might be one of the most interesting menswear designers at the moment. He recently left Hermes, where he handled womenswear, and caused quite a stir with his FW15 show(I think it’s one of the best in recent memory).

The rest of the store has things that can be easily incorporated into any wardrobe. Saager Dilawri – the New York transplant who started Neighbour in 2011 – tells me he only carries things that resonate with him. He likes Stephan Schneider and Our Legacy because their designs are interesting, yet also feel approachable and unpretentious (I’m a big fan of Schneider’s knitwear and Our Legacy’s jeans). He also enjoys O’Ballou for their 1950s sense of casual Italian style and the Japanese label Niuhans for their botanically-dyed clothes (he describes them as having a sense of “air-like lightness” and “clean perfection”).

Trousers are pretty straightforward, at least when compared to jackets. Except for what goes into the waistband, there’s no real internal construction to speak of – just pocket bags and lining, which are hidden underneath the garment’s shell. They’re also a lot easier to fit, which makes them nice for custom tailoring. Once your tailor has your pattern down – one for flat front pants, and another for pleats – you can order trousers straight-to-finish. 

I recently received my first order from Salvatore Ambrosi, the famous (and at times infamous) tailor from the Spanish Quarters of Naples. Salvatore, for those unfamiliar, had a meteoric rise eight years ago when he was first introduced to the online community of bespoke tailoring enthusiasts. People were crazy for his stuff, but after a few good years, Salvatore couldn’t keep up with the increasing number of orders. Deliveries were delayed and emails went unanswered. As far as I know, everyone eventually got their trousers or money back, but people are still rightly sour about the experience. The last time I wrote about Salvatore, a well-respected menswear writer emailed me to say I was breaking iGent omertà. He was probably half joking, but also … probably half not. 

Since that debacle five years ago, Salvatore has slowly rebuilt his business. He’s developed a healthy customer base in East Asia, partnered with boutiques to handle the logistics of his orders, and expanded his workshop. Instead of just the small workroom that he and his father used to occupy – and Michael Alden once filmed – his family’s operation now takes up two floors in the same building. 

Things seem to be flowing pretty smoothly nowadays. I received my pants just a short month after my fitting, and I’m happy to say: they live up to their hype. As simple as trousers can be, Salvatore’s are exceptionally good. The pants fit perfectly clean through the legs and seat, and perhaps most importantly, they’re styled quite well. Unlike my English or other Neapolitan trousers, these are slimmer through the thighs, which allows the legs to be nicely pegged without making the hips look too wide. The rise comes to about my naval, but the pants don’t look frumpy because of the slim leg line and pleats. The pleats are subtle, but they help break up the swath of fabric that would otherwise stretch across the lap.