Savile Row on TV

Those in the UK are being treated to a three-part TV series on Savile Row at the moment. The launch pad for the programme, evidently filmed last year, is the opening of Abercrombie & Fitch’s London flagship store at 40 Savile Row – the rather imposing old building at the end of the row that used to be the London tailors’ bank.

Cue shots of dapper men standing on their porches, sniffing as the hoardings for Abercrombie are put up – black-and-white shots of chiselled male torsos. The sniffing reaches a crescendo when the store actually opens, and teenagers cue round the block to get in. The Abercrombie philosophy of pumping music, dark lighting and piled-high goods couldn’t be much further removed from the Savile Row aesthetic.

But the truly interesting observations are at the margin of this drama. For example, most of the men sniffing on their porches are younger tailors, dressed a little flashier than their older colleagues, hair greased down, face and tone competitive if not aggressive.

The more senior tailors are a little more relaxed. They realise that Abercrombie is only there as a gimmick. It wanted the address, nothing more. It is not competition and it is more than likely that it will not be there in 50 years, or it will have moved to Oxford Street. A meeting of the senior tailors of the row is described by our narrator as a “council of war”, in response to the Abercrombie opening. Yet no one at that meeting looks particularly upset, and nothing seems to come of it. The subject is quietly dropped during the programme, in order to concentrate on a trip to the Isle of Harris for some genuine tweed.

It is equally interesting that the tailors have, to a certain extent, a right to be there. While rents might be expensive, the landlord has it built into the letting contract that only the work of tailors or clothiers can go on there. This doesn’t prevent the landlords turning the top floors into apartments, or stop Abercrombie (as it strictly speaking could be described as a clothier) but it does partly explain why Savile Row has maintained its consistency and security of address over time.

Another fascinating observation, made in passing, is that few of the tailors are rich. While all of the bespoke suits they offer are expensive, starting at around £2500, they are genuinely made by these experienced old men, by hand, on that site in central London. Given the number of hours it must take to make and fit each one, it is not surprising that the profit margins are not huge. Those trips up to Harris to personally order a few bolts of tweed can’t be cheap either. Remember that next time you are comparing Savile Row tailoring to the big fashion houses (and their profit margins – see posting on January 25).

The Savile Row series screened the second of its three parts on Monday this week. However, all the episodes can be seen in retrospect and by those abroad on the BBC’s iPlayer.

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The Commodity of Luxury

The shiny barrier of luxury that one clearly defined social and cultural classes has fallen by the wayside. Now, even the most average of incomes can support some level of Tiffany, Cartier, Hermes, Asprey, Gucci or Louis Vuitton. Only one generation ago any of these names would conjure up images of drivers waiting outside intimidatingly luxurious store fronts. Such places were exclusive. They were out of bounds for the ordinary consumer. You could walk in of course, but you didn’t really belong there.

How the world has changed. Though many of these companies took generations to become bastions of excellence and good breeding, it took a relatively short period of time to make their products and accessories available to the masses. When once only New York’s privileged scions browsed for the perfect diamond engagement ring, today every other teenage girl has a “Return to Tiffany” chocker wrapped around her neck.

Burberry, that giant of English brands had to hire a new CEO whose first act was to abolish the company’s signature tartan from hundreds of products. In Burberry’s case it was too much of a good thing – that plaid was everywhere and all at once. What had been a cipher for privilege and exclusivity was now the domain of high schoolers.

In their drive to reach the ultimate brass ring of market share, sobriety and tradition gave way to down market sales. Catch them young, the theory goes, let them afford a scarf or a bracelet with the coveted logo on it, and when they grow up and make more money they’ll come back to spend it on a sapphire necklace or an iconic trench coat. And it worked.

At least the first part worked. The problem of course, is that when you have a hot economy and lots of people with a desire for fame and spare cash, the more bling you can sport the better. What began as an effort to ensnare more customers and grown the bottom line quickly twisted into outright brand saturation.

The turning point for venerable Tiffany & Co., apparently came when hordes of cash flushed teens clogging up the “rear salon” – when the sterling silver jewelry and accessories are sold - started to turn off the customers who were coming in to buy the big stuff in the “front salon.” This is where the real action happens; where you might see some fellow drop $50,000 on a charming tennis bracelet for the wife.

These are the customers who really pay the bills and when they start feeling sidelined because Tiffany appears to be catering to a 13 year-old with mom’s credit card, well, watch out. The first half of the down market plan was a success. The problem was that so many people could now afford a piece of the dream and the demand was relentless. So were the sales.

But as this “affordable luxury” trend spread across the luxury market, from entry level Jaguars to entry level Zegna suits, the inevitable started to happen. The truly rich, the top level consumers started to feel not so special.

Because if everyone can be special, than, really, no one is special. And so as the bottom feeders snatched up their logoed iPod cases, key chains, and handbags-of-the-moment, the top feeders started looking for material fulfillment elsewhere. Coincidentally, the financial markets started to stumble around this point and that really didn’t help.

As most economists will tell you, when consumers believe that their financial situation is threatened the first pull back will be in discretionary spending. While this has different meanings to different people, at some point getting that blue velvet Gucci suit just doesn’t seem like a good investment.

This is the conundrum facing a number of large luxury houses as we kick off the New Year: the market they have spent years trying to attract is no long in a spending mood. And the elite customers, who could, with just a few shopping trips set things right, no longer desire your brand because it has been watered down.

The result of this perfect retail storm is equally as fascinating. New designers and real craftsman are starting to make their mark. People both average and wealthy want something new. Those with the means to have pretty much anything they want something no one else has. Average consumers who have money but are now more selective want something unique.

Visionaries like Tom Ford and David Chu saw this coming and acted early. After founding and then selling Nautica for a tidy profit of $100 million, Chu renovated an entire Manhattan townhouse and turned it into a bespoke atelier from which he offers a full range of custom clothing. After leaving Gucci, Ford decided that New York needed a super high-end men’s clothier that felt like a private club.

Wealthier shoppers are moving way from brand name luxury because it simply too common; luxury itself has become a commodity. So, really this was a roundabout way of saying that I believe we will be seeing a shift in the definition of luxury. People will soon realize that the only way to in fact be unique is to disregard labels and logos altogether.

And to me that time cannot come soon enough. Real style is a personal thing and luxury items are the most extreme expression of personal style. So in a sense we are back at the beginning when true luxury did not have a label slapped on it, when a suit was handmade and the man wearing it was an ambassador of style, not the tag.

Personally, I think that those things most meaningful to you should be uncommon and rare; they should come with some sort of price beyond that of just money. Be it an irreplaceable family heirloom or an expensive and unusual watch that was a once-in-a-lifetime purchase. Even if it’s a favorite sweater bought at a discount store; if you cannot bear to lose it, well, then it’s just as valuable as one from some expensive boutique.

When you get down to it, those who have a real understanding of style don’t need labels. They don’t care if you recognize their bag or their tie or their coat. It’s not about impressing you; it’s about standards they set for themselves. That’s luxury.

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The Future of Style, as Told by Hardy Amies

The previous Permanent Style posting described how Hardy Amies, resident of Savile Row and men’s style legend, saw fashion in the sixties.

In his book ABC of Men’s Fashion he described the narrow, high-buttoning suit of the period and his belief that, for practical reasons, that style would remain the norm. Another interesting aspect of this is that he believed future trends would follow this line, only to a greater extreme.

He was wrong, of course. By the end of that decade all clothes were looser, baggier, freer. The seventies would see such a profusion of wide lapels and flared trousers in suits that commentators at that time again felt confident in predicting that the new style was here to stay.

Amies described the style of sixties most succinctly in a caption to one of his illustrations at the centre of the book. It reads: “The complete man-present: forward-looking hat, high tab-collared shirt, high-buttoning suit, slim boots with raised heels.” The picture shows a man in a pale-grey, checked suit, with only the top two buttons of his four-button suit done up. The trousers are narrow and a little short, the boots shiny and black. His dark, knitted tie is matched by a dark pocket square (though as the photo is in black and white the precise colour cannot be discerned).

Opposite is the future, as Amies sees it. The caption reads: “The complete man-future: slim bow tie balancing the vertical line of the suit, high-buttoning cutaway jacket, extra narrow trousers tucked into calf-length boots.” The gentleman pictured wears a dark, pin-striped suit, with only the top two buttons of his five-button jacket done up. The bowtie is matched by a dark silk handkerchief. And, amazingly, he indeed has his suit trousers tucked into calf-length black boots in what appears to be suede.

(My apologies that I don’t have any reproductions of these pictures. If anyone has any suggestions as to wear I can get these to illustrate this posting, please tell me.)

Did Amies really believe that the future of formal wear was suits tucked into suede boots? Can you imagine businessmen today sitting in the boardroom, their suit trousers tucked into Ugg Boots? Admittedly Uggs would be too chunky for Amies, but it seems no less ridiculous.

The fact is fashions oscillate around a figure of Permanent Style, with the sixties narrow form at one extreme and the seventies flair at the other. One swing is followed by another in the opposite direction. (By this I mean long-term swings, those that last decades not years. Skinny jeans, for example, do not qualify. They are a seasonal fad, like cowboy boots or peasant skirts.)

Once enough men today have bought one-button suits, expect to see three or four-button versions on the catwalk. Designers have to come up with something that’s different, after all. And when those inventions seem to chime with the times, as boots did in the sixties and flares did in the seventies, they’ll become a decade-long swing.

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Sixties Style, as Told by Hardy Amies

The Victoria & Albert Museum – London’s best if you are interested in style and decoration – is running an exhibition on the Golden Age of Couture, 1947-1957. The exhibits of vintage Dior, Balenciaga and Balmain gowns are fascinating: the relentless tightening of waists, the details of how dresses were cut and the style culture of Paris.

But the discovery of the exhibition for me was in the gift shop: a new print of Hardy Amies’s ABC of Men’s Fashion. First published in 1964, it contains a staggering number of sayings about men’s fashion that have remained in circulation. The most famous of course is: “A man should look as if he had bought his clothes with intelligence, put them on with care and then forgotten all about them.”

There are also little gems such as “Cummerbund. ‘Anglo-Saxon 1616. A sash or girdle worn around the waist’. Need I say more?” And “Fancy waistcoat. Fancy is a suitably unpleasant word for a rather nasty article.” Although Amies does go on to say “I should exclude from this fancy waistcoats worn with a morning coat. Here a touch of dandyism seems to be desirable.”

For the purposes of Permanent Style, however, the most interesting aspect of Amies’s book is his declarations about the fashion of the sixties, and his confidence in its practicality and longevity.

The sixties ideal is long and slim, with very narrow trousers, a four-buttoned suit and ankle boots. His tie is thin and he wears a trilby pushed forward on the head. Everything is about length and height, all buttoned-up and tight. His guidelines are:

Trousers: “Trousers follow the natural contours of the leg as closely as comfort and the fall of the cloth permit.”

Jacket: “The line is accentuated by the use of three buttons as fastening rather than two or one. Four are better still.”

Revers: “These higher fastenings automatically shorten the length of the revers and it is natural that they should also become narrow.”

Sleeves: “Sleeves should be as narrow as comfort permits, and at the wrist should just encompass the cuff of the shirt.”

Waist: “A four-button fastening looks well with a jacket cut rather straight at the sides. This looser, straighter jacket has for some time been liked by the young. It looks casual. The older find it comfortable.”

Headwear: “Given the slightest chance, young people rush to put on a hat. They are designed to be worn well forward on the head, thus enhancing the forward lines of the rest of the costume.”

Footwear: “Elastic-sided boots are more comfortable to wear, easier to put on, nicer to look at, and better integrated with the rest of one’s clothes than the lace-up kind. They seem to have just about everything in their favour.”

I find it fascinating that someone so revered now and then had such confidence that style was changing. It is an illustrative lesson in assumptions about so-called classic style or indeed permanent style.

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Goodbye Valentino, Welcome Valentino

Of the mighty Italian designers, Valentino must rank as one of the mightiest. The perma-tanned, perma-elegant Lombardian has been on the scene for nearly a half century and in that time he has become one of the most successful couturiers in history, and undoubtedly, one of the most popular and well known figures in fashion.

Though his women’s collections receive just attention, he is not a one trick pony. There are tens of designers who can’t match the quality of one gender’s collection with another. Ralph Lauren is a rarity in that his men’s collections are actually more dynamic and intriguing than his women’s collections – a mark of his personal taste more than his undoubted ability. Galliano, try though he might, just can’t cut it with the boys. While there is something interesting about his approach and his imagination, his magnificent couture skill actually affects his ready to wear negatively; his conjuring is restricted to the fantastical and despite his creativity in the field of female couture, there is an embarrassing lack of it in his spring 2008 men’s collection.

Valentino, on the other hand captures ‘need’ and ‘want’ without sacrificing invention; he has been measured and realistic about his artistry. And importantly, he didn’t allow his couture fantasy anywhere near his men’s ready-to-wear cutting table. The comparison with Galliano might seem unfair; indeed it is central to the Gilbraltarian’s strategy to introduce the couture rudiments of exploration and experimentation to the generally staid arena of functional menswear. However, his acknowledgment of timelessness is relatively weak in comparison to Valentino. It’s not that the Italian doesn’t want things to change, it’s just that when something is not broken, there’s nothing to fix.
Valentino’s menswear collections focus on tradition. Although, as one commentator on this site pointed out, the Spring 2008 collection was certainly one of the best in recent times, there has been a reassuring reliability to Senor Valentino. Plenty of designers have been hit and miss in the style stakes. ‘Fashionistas’ may laud anything and everything, but it actually takes more to impress arbiters of style. This is not because said arbiters have any special sensibility of ‘good’ fashion or ‘bad’ fashion, but that, generally speaking, they are more difficult to coax from their shells. When it comes to the future, arbiters of style are generally more willing purchasers of pessimism. However, one shouldn’t run away with the idea that this is a particularly bad thing; fashionistas can be inappropriately gushing and quite frightening in their blind optimism and utter devotion to trend.

In a menswear department Valentino had the ability to delight both. His snappy tailoring of men’s classic fashions updated reliable and well-loved looks to the applause of the fashion world and they never seem to approach absurdity or over-theatrics, thus entitling him to the long lasting approval of generations of style men. Though inevitable, his retirement is a great shame as it seems to have ended this happy co-existence of couture and male and female ready to wear.

And with Pozzoni as creative director, an ambitious couturier himself, what future holds for the men’s collections from the house of Valentino? It seems that despite his guarded, derivative Fall 2008 collections that nursed Valentino’s legacy, there might be some changes to come, and if couture is Pozzoni’s future then what embracement of continuity will there be?

After Slimane’s fall from Dior, it was suspected that the first collection from Kris Van Assche would be ‘Hedi-reverential’ and indeed, largely, it was. However, the difficulty in following a great name seems to have affected him as the unimpressive Fall 2008 collection illustrates. Slimane’s Dior collections were certainly fashion forward, but he recognised timeless urbanity and translated it competently.

Pozzoni is fortunate in that his responsibility at Valentino is so small, but despite this, he is stepping into some very large and very well respected shoes. Valentino had a gift for recognising, quite simply, what looks good with what. From his elaborate couture to his sturdy menswear that defined eighties chic, Val showed a talent extremely difficult to replace.

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