Sartorial Love Hate: Collar Popped Turtle

“Erm, why are those dudes wearing shirts?”

“What dudes?”

“Those dudes. The ones wearing the turtle necks. The ones wearing their turtle necks over their damn shirts and poking the collar out at the neck.”

Ah Pitti. You can always rely on it to start a new fad. There were the slightly peasant like floppy hats (which even ended up in Zara) the tie back-blading (which many found obnoxious to the point of attempted strangulation) and now we have this – the collar popped turtle…thingy.

With persistently low temperatures in Europe’s late winter, there’s no doubting the necessity of wearing cosy knitwear. Sartorial radiators are an essential part of a strong winter wardrobe and, however much the turtle neck divides opinion, it is a solid staple that acts as both jumper and muffler. Unlike the crew or V-neck, it has a complete presence of its own, requiring no shirt as a formal base and looks more at home, particularly in fine, cashmere versions, with the likes of a tweed jacket, flannel blazer or even a barathea dinner jacket.

However, the turtle neck is also perceived to be rather boring, relatively prudish and utilitarian. “Sexiness” a friend observed “is pretty hard to convey through a turtle neck. It’s like wearing a nun’s habit, or a fisherman’s Sou’wester.” I would agree to an extent, but would suggest that’s where the sensuality of a velvet blazer and a paisley silk puff can lend a helping hand.

The question is, can a shirt collar achieve the same effect? After all, it cannot be that warmth is the target for the practice of popping a shirt collar above a turtle neck.

“Contrived” a friend commented “and just pointless. What is that tiny triangle giving them?”

“I like it” grinned a girl after icily admiring a picture of a Pitti regular for a full thirty seconds. “It looks cool, like a naughty school boy or something. He looks like he’s got some formality, but he’s using the jumper to stay warm…and that means he has forgotten what he’s wearing and what he looks like – that’s sexy.”

Has he forgotten? I find that rather hard to believe, particularly as the shirt collar is so prominently proud of the top of the turtle neck. My own theory is that the look is aping that of a Regency buck’s neckwear; where a cotton tie is wrapped around a collar, the tips of which kissed the bottom of the wearer’s chin. It might be marginally warmer, but, like most fads at Pitti, it’s not being done for practical reasons.

Sartorial Tinderness

“Bow ties never fail to impress” writes a pouting blonde of 25; “I love the first picture!! So dapper!” a brunette of 30 gushes excitedly.

And then a 23 year old redhead spoils the party: “What’s with the suits? You look so stiff! Good thing you’re cute!”

Welcome to the world of Tinder, sartorialist.

Dating is no longer a qualitative sport. It’s turned into an app-based quantitative exercise (strong emphasis on ‘exercise’).

Instead of hit & miss hunting in bars and clubs on a Friday night, the internet and the smartphone have given singletons the power of selection and preference, removed the awkwardness of rejection and gifted the underrated power of preparation; after all, how many corny lines have you chaps delivered that you have regretted? How many times do you wish, when talking to an attractive potential mate, that the music wasn’t quite so loud? Tinder is the answer to these problems.

However, Tinder doesn’t really work that well. The problem with it isn’t that it is entirely superficial (it is) or addictive (drug like). The problem lies in that men and women use the app in completely different ways.

Why? Because men and women are simply very different creatures.

Not only are most of the women on there guilt-ridden and uncomfortable in using such a horridly shallow system of filtering potential mates, they’re also extremely picky.

Most female addicts of Tinder swipe ‘left’ (i.e. disliking a man). Male addicts, brutally pragmatic, often employ the ‘right swipe’ or the even more heartless ‘white swipe’ (‘liking’ someone before their picture has even loaded on screen).

What this results in is women’s inboxes being inundated with ‘Matches’, as the few she selects very often match with her. Though most women who experience this have enjoyed a brief period of confidence-boost, the majority eventually bore of it – particularly as 80-90% of their matches fail to sustain contact with them at all.

However, despite it being a deeply flawed tool that totally underestimates the attitudinal differences between men and women, it has revolutionized the way men think about how they present themselves to women and, the best news of all is that they’re starting to realize the importance of dressing well.

Tinder only allows you to use Facebook photographs, bypassing the possibility of utterly misrepresentative pictures (although there is a way to upload awkward/naughty/fake portraits to the social network by setting the privacy to Only Me – scarcely rocket science).

However, it seems that lewdness or semi-naked masculinity are by far the least popular style of photographs. Despite what the muscle-bound gym bunnies might believe, women are not that interested in abdominal close-ups or topless pouting. They’re also not interested in pictures of kittens, puppies, ex-girlfriends or grinning grannies.

What they are interested in is evidence of fun-loving, lack-of-self-loving and smart dressing. Out of the three, the latter is the easiest to fix – and provides conversation starters. It also reminds women that you are a serious candidate without being too serious a man.

Of the photographs experimented with on Tinder, the most appealing pictures I used were ones of me fully clothed and, more often than not, in different variations of black tie. Use of bow ties attracted commentary of admiration and intrigue, with women approaching the conversation from the point of view that I was something of an international cad who wore evening dress regularly.

Also highly appealing were pictures of me in suits (particularly three-piece) wearing ties, tie-clips and pocket squares, prompting women to either admire or admonish me for being ‘dapper/posh.’

Slightly less appealing were pictures of me with my shirt open, wearing jumpers and cardigans (perhaps because they aged me and were too ‘comfy.’) Also unappealing were pictures of me in white tie (too much perhaps, even in the Downton Abbey era) and morning dress.

The outfits that worked best had either a continental coolness to them, or British with a contemporary edge. They were either relatively unique (black tie with white trousers) or classic (blue blazer and light grey trousers). Simplicity seems to be equivalent to sexiness in this context as extravagant ensembles (waterfall pocket squares, loud checked jackets, silk scarves) fared very poorly indeed.

The other important thing is that the picture collection is coherent; don’t have one picture of you in black tie and then five shots of abs. This is about character creation, and this requires consistency. The perfect mix might be a shot of you in a suit, one in black tie (preferably looking like you’re having a good time), another in ‘relaxation mode’(e.g. shirt and cord jacket) and one of you relaxing on holiday in a linen shirt with sunglasses.

This selection not only provides the ladies with a suite of situations which she can visualize her being in with you, it also serves to add interest to your character; a man of evening functions, of important business, of travel and one who enjoys his leisure. In other words: a knight in non-shiny wool.

InStitchu UK Interview

1. What is the InStitchu UK story and what are you seeking to achieve in tailoring?

InStitchu UK was born out of necessity after my business partner and I were unable to find a high quality, tailor made suit for under £600. It was at this point I approached the Australian business (now the market leader) and proposed helping them setup the business here in the UK, knowing that people like myself would love a service like this.

Our vision is to provide a tailoring service that allows men to design their own bespoke suit online at an affordable price.

2. Why should someone choose an InStitchu suit instead of a ‘designer’ suit?

Designer suits tend to be a lower quality fabric, standard size and more expensive due to the brand label. I myself used to love wearing brands, but as you grow up, you quickly come to understand that brands don’t mean a lot when it comes to having something custom made. I think that the value in a suit is the fit and quality of the manufacture.

3. How would you compare an InStitchu suit to one from a traditional tailor on Savile Row and how would you say you are different from other internet tailors?

Savile row is the birthplace of tailoring and over recent years has become a brand in itself. The quality is superior to our garments and you pay on average £2000 more for that privilege. However, InStitchu UK is forever innovating to find the most efficient method for tailoring and therefore deliver exceptional Savile Row style customer service.

In terms of other internet tailors, we aren’t able to pinpoint a single aspect that makes us better. Instead it’s that combination of great customer service, innovative website, speed of delivery, quality of suit, positive reviews and home/corporate booking service that separates us from the rest, by quite a distance. Our 24/7 livechat also means customers can get answers right away.

I also think that we are far more stylish and modern than our competitors. We run competitions with companies like Men’s Fashion Magazine who are seen by their readers as experts in fashion and style. We aim to help educate and build a wardrobe for anyone wanting to become more professional and stylish.

4. Could you tell me what personalisation is possible on InStitchu suits?

Our skilled tailors are capable of anything you might like or have seen elsewhere. However, too many options can make the process overwhelming so we have stuck to the more popular features:

• Trousers: pleats, turn-ups, side-adjusters, pocket varation

• Jacket: Lapels (peak/notch/shawl, fish mouth), DB/SB, vents, working cuffs, number of sleeve-buttons, button stitching colour, pockets (patch/ticket/slanted), pull out lining, monograms, fabric meltons, elbow pads,

• Waistcoat: DB/SB, pockets, linings, strap adjuster

5. Where are your suits made and what fabrics do you use and where do you source them from?

Our suits are made by tailors in China. The majority of our fabrics are 100% merino wool, sourced from a range of mills around the world but we do have a lot in our library from places such as Italy. We also have cotton, linen, wool and cashmere blends etc.

6. What are the plans for InStitchu for the future?

There are several aspects being introduced onto the website in the future. My favourite being Google Helpouts for people who would like advice from the comfort of their own home. We are also looking forward to pop-up stores across the country, competitions with men’s style magazines and attending wedding fairs to ensure grooms are well dressed for the special day.

For more information visit

Some Closing Notes on the ‘Savile Row’ Brand

Last month’s piece arguing that true Savile Row tailors require stronger brand identities, and a more assertive, modern approach to driving their businesses forward if they are to survive, seems to have caused a bit of a stir, and for this reason I would like to use this week’s column to make some further comments which aim to clarify my position.

To simply say that Savile Row caters to a different, more discerning kind of customer is a grave mistake. This hugely minimises Savile Row’s potential customer base and the possibility of building new business. Today’s world is not filled with crusty old gentlemen of aristocratic birth, but of considerably younger, diverse, more modern and less stuffy, moneyed businessmen (and women) and entrepreneurs. These are the market of today, the individuals who quite literally buy into the Savile Row brand of exclusivity and luxury.

Any business has to evolve with the times, and in the same vein as Savile Row’s widespread determination to cater to a dying and minimal class of customer, the Savile Row Bespoke Association’s consensus that to market Savile Row tailoring is to devalue its status is similarly outmoded and defeatist. One need only walk down New Bond Street round the corner from the Row to assess the power of luxury advertising – as I demonstrated last week – it is an attractive and developed brand that creates desirability, not solely the product itself. The realities of modern retail commerce (even in luxury markets such as the Row’s) are driven by competition and marketing; there are not enough customers to go round, and word of mouth is not an appropriate tool to bring in enough custom to support an expensive and labour intensive business such as bespoke tailoring.

Equally, one reader I had a compelling discussion with a few days ago, raised the interesting point that many high street menswear firms masquerade under their own derivative of the ‘Savile Row’ brand, which serves only to weaken the exclusivity of the Row itself. His solution was to Trademark Savile Row. Personally, I think this is problematic, given that the ever passive Savile Row Bespoke Association doesn’t seem clear on what it really wants Savile Row to be, and there can be no denying that it is difficult for the tailors to be expected to always cooperate together, when they are also competing for business.

True Savile Row does not need to trademark its brand, it needs to realise that it has the power to reclaim its brand from the high street. There needs to be more commonly held knowledge about the quality of Savile Row and what it does, and what defines a true Savile Row bespoke suit. This will serve the purpose of preventing any mock ‘Savile Row’ garments from cannibalising the brand in a convincing fashion; if all Savile Row’s customers come know the difference between a hand-roped and machine attached sleevehead, it’ll be a damn sight hard for the high street to pass their mass-produced stock off as ‘Savile Row’. The reality is, that true Savile Row suits are the finest in the world, and their current potential customer base which favour off-the-peg designer tailoring, need to be shown assertively that this is the case.

Designers are convincing their customers into believing that their suits are the height of exclusivity, luxury, and craftsmanship. This is being done through the power of marketing and brand building. Until Savile Row realises that this is the case, it is powerless to help itself or grow into a series of highly successful, growing businesses, who, although competing, can nonetheless support one another’s growth through the promotion of the same standard of product, service and brand values. And permit me to clarify here, when I talk of growth, I do not mean Savile Row needs to be ‘big’ per se, and when the product involves so much handwork their is a limit to the product’s scalability in any case. What Savile Row does need to be however, is grown to a point where successful tailors are generating consistent custom and considerably more healthy profits than most currently are. This can be done and does not require significant or unrealistic levels of scale increases, it requires a more modern and business-like approach.

Similarly, the different tailors ought to do more to capitalise on their differing methods, traditions, house styles and aesthetics to attract customers who will suit their product and build niches for themselves; producing individual identities within the Savile Row brand. This in itself will build interest, drive more competition and add diversity to the Row. It will also build awareness of the identities of the different tailoring houses.

Andrew Ramroop of Maurice Sedwell, famously quoted on the BBC’s ‘Savile Row’ documentary, that “we’re a household name in the households that we wish to be known in”. With all due respect to him, as a craftsman whom I very much admire, this comment typifies the attitude of many businesses on Savile Row, and it is no longer credible. Tom Ford, Brioni, Zegna and Prada are the household names now, and those true Savile Row tailors which have the power to correct this, need to realise that if they are to ever come close to their former glory in the golden age of tailoring again, they need to be more business like, and drive their business development through the creation of a desirable, modern brand which will compliment the quality of their product.

No Sex Please, We’re British

Ask a woman who they believe the most stylish men in the world to be and the answer is rarely different: “Italians!” they gush “Definitely Italians!”

This can be rather a sore point for British men, particularly those who take care of themselves in grooming and attire, who battle against the enormously unhelpful weather in entirely impractical threads in order to cut a dash for old Blighty. “What about British men!?” their inner conscience screams “what the hell has a Brit got to do to impress upon women that British men have great style?!”

The answer, it would seem, comes down to sex.

It’s very simple; the average Italian adult male, sometimes but by no means always better looking than his British counterpart, brings sex appeal to his sartorial deportment. When women judge a man’s style, they aren’t judging him by the standards of StyleForum bloggers, crusty Savile Row cutters or ancient doyennes of ‘classic menswear’ – they’re judging him as a man, plain and simple.

“So what?” I imagine some will be saying “Who cares what women think? I know my Anderson & Sheppard is one of the finest pieces of craftsmanship going and I don’t give a damn what the females’ opinions are.”

Natural style, fundamentally, is not about clothes or craftsmanship but about the person and the way in which they convey their sexuality.

Humans are designed to appeal as sexual creatures and the more successful you are in conveying your sexuality, the more attractive you are. Let’s face it, we have to dress; climate and legislation prevent public nudity. Therefore, we need to convey our sex appeal – however faded it might be – through attire.

It’s appallingly simple: Italian men are more successful at conveying their sexuality through attire. British men, and the British style school, are comparatively poorer.

Take Lapo Elkann and Luca Rubinacci as two classic and well-known examples of well-dressed Italians. If style ‘aficionados’ met them, they would I am sure have many questions. And I would wager that most of them would be utterly inconsequential; “Who makes the best soft-shouldered suits? Which bespoke shoemaker do you favour above all? What is your view on wearing odd waistcoats with suits?”

Yawn fest.

The point is that Elkann and Rubinacci could walk through H&M, Zara and even Primark and come out on the other side conveying more sex appeal and natural, innate style than any British iGent dusting off the shoulder of his expensive blazer outside Chittleborough & Morgan.

And they can do this because they understand how to bring the man they are to the fore in everything they wear. Sexiness is about owning and belonging in a look and, as Amies recommended, not obsessing over it. And it’s not about being good looking enough to look good in anything either; beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Italians are gushed over because, for want of a less graphic image, they thrust their manhood into their ensembles. The way that the billionaire Elkann nonchalantly wanders around in unbuttoned hand-me-down DB jackets, a cigarette dangling from his lips is gruff, sex-laden style. He couldn’t give two hoots about which craftsman roped his shoulder, whether his jacket arm is creased in pictures or whether the hem of his jackets drop perfectly into his palms.

Rubinacci, though certainly a little more studied, wears colours with happy ease. He looks like he is having fun. He looks like he could sleep in his clothes they suit him so well. And crucially, he looks like he could charm the socks off a thousand women – and from his evident lack of hosiery, he might need to.

British men, and in fact Anglo-Saxons in general, approach clothing as a sexless science, which stultifies the overall purpose to bring forth the sexual image of the wearer and make them more attractive. I was greatly intrigued by the statement of the American Anglophile Sean Crowley, Ralph Lauren tie designer and fellow ‘I Am Dandy’ subject, who stated that he was using Hugh Laurie as Bertie Wooster for style inspiration for the purpose of ‘unsexing’ clothing.

There can be, in my opinion, no greater indictment of the perception of British style.

The Savile Row-John Steed British Style School of Perfection is about brushing off wrinkle-free suits, tucking in traditional shirts, following ancient rules, firming the upper lip and generally, stiffening, starching and unsexing anything in sight. If it errs on the side of anything, it’s fabric and construction – not style or sex appeal. Above all, it worships time, dedication, purity and elitism.

The Italian school is very different. They appreciate and admire quality, but they have the gaggles of girls a-giggling because they get what it’s really all about: making the best of anything they wear and understanding the importance of sex. It might come across as loucheness, untidiness or faddishness but sprezzatura is an Italian word for a reason; a truly stylish man should be able to wear anything and look good. And not for the dogmatic classic style high-priests, bespoke addicts and tailors but for the majority of people who pass by, of either gender, and vocally or visually acknowledge.

For my money, there is no greater compliment than being considered to be, whilst trussed up in a suit, overcoat and scarf – all the elements of a potentially sexless ensemble – sexually appealing.