Why The Fuss? ‘Effortless’ Style

“Yea, he’s cool” the girls nodded, glancing towards the unkempt, tramp-ish looking gent at the bar; a man so carefully careless in appearance and so studied, that the girls’ following remark (“He’s just so effortlessly stylish”) was a curious hilarity. On another occasion I was asked by a lady friend my opinion of her new boyfriend; an out-of-work actor of fascinating pretension. She particularly wished to know what I thought of his attire; “Don’t you think” she gushed, fanning her flushing face with her fingers “he’s just like, the BEST dressed man ever?!” Acknowledging her ardour, I provided diplomatic mutterings that conveyed a disingenuous approval. My true feeling was more of pity; for the gentleman was merely another example of a style which, once aligned to a greater art of sartoria, is known merely as ‘effortless.’

George Clooney is apparently the archetype of this style. His ‘ability’, according to his rather star struck columnist proponents, is ‘to look like the best dressed man in the world whilst seemingly making no effort at all.’ While Mr Clooney manages, armed with his considerable fortune, to look vaguely presentable at occasions which require a modicum of formality, he can scarcely be considered the best dressed man when he and ‘dressing’ maintain only the slightest of nodding acquaintanceships.

This ‘effortless cool’ has less to do with dressing and a great deal more to do with sexuality; sartorial sexuality, which for much of the Twentieth century, replaced propriety and ornament in female dress, is now the pinnacle of style for a great many men. Clooney is a desirable and attractive man who, apparently, manages to transform seemingly ordinary clothing into style choices of sudden and magnetic genius. The reason why is because Clooney, though outdressed in all styles by more ‘anonymous’ gentleman across the world, is smothered gracelessly in Hollywood’s secret sauce: sex.

‘Effortless’ cool used to be about a lot more than sex. It used to be about the way a gentleman could pair the casual with the more formal, largely for reasons of comfort or practicality, and still achieve elegance; the way he would close his dressing gown and knot the belt; the way he would quickly roll up his trousers when wearing loafers in the summer; the way he would tip back his hat to allow the sunshine to warm his face, or use a tie as a belt when feeling in a jaunty mood. The new ‘effortless’ cool offers no such invention or attractive pragmatism. It is not about ‘effortless’ dressing but simply avoiding dressing; shirts unbuttoned to the chest, contrivance of simplicity, avoiding details and shunning innovation.

The most important thing to note is that it only appears to ‘work’ on men of a certain physical appeal. If you are on the books of Storm, are the tall silver-haired totty of the boardroom, got paid $12 million for your last acting job or tend to make girls weak at the knees with the merest flutter of your eyelashes, you’re laughing; a slovenly ‘style’ will not distract from your other charms. If, like the rest of us, you are not so genetically blessed; feeling rather short, awkwardly made or simply lacking in what might be termed ‘looks that can kill’, there’s precious little of the superficial to recommend. Wandering around in an open white shirt, clumpy shoes and a suit of average aesthetic and ubiquitous style is not likely to make others confuse you with Mr Clooney. Making an effort, for the majority of men, is far more attractive, rewarding and interesting than appearing not to have made an effort at all.

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And The Oscar Goes To…

Of all the events about which there is much ballyhoo and hullabaloo, the Academy Awards really takes the biscuit. 41 million people tuned in this year, equivalent to the population of Argentina. For an event that has so little bearing on the lives of those watching, it is certainly extraordinary; film industry back-slapping and back-handing is hardly the bread and butter of a meaningful existence. However, the punters seem drawn to the spectacle year after year, not least for one of its early sequences – the famed ‘red carpet arrivals.’

Thousands of people are squeezed into the street outside the ceremony’s venue, screaming for the stars - come rain or shine. Security staff fiddle with velvet ropes, cameras flash in expectation, reporters hyperbolise and finally the limousines, which have trundled along at a funereal pace, release their hand-waving celebrated passengers to a cacophony of noise.

The apogee of this anticipation is the sight of silver screen stars decked out in glittering gowns and borrowed gems; a catwalk of prom-dresses that range from the sleek and chic to the truly absurd. In between the teeth-flashing females are the dark figures of Hollywood masculinity; most wearing black tie, the odd few favouring outfits that belong at board meetings.

The women are, naturally, the focus of the camera lenses; having spent hours preparing for the rigours of the red carpet, they make the most of their moment. The men, though not neglected, are merely asked “Who made your tux?” It is a matter of sad predictability that the answer is invariably “Armani.” The male models on the world’s most watched catwalk show are no uniform group of ‘boys.’ They are one of the most representative collections of men; from the short and fat to the tall and lean, the impossibly attractive to the downright ugly. And the variation does not end there. Whilst it seems, from the glossy photographs in my compendium on the Academy Awards, that ‘old Hollywood’ ceremonies were occasions at which nearly all men and women dressed with a considerable level of elegance, these days, the right thing is done by fewer and fewer men.

Red Carpet Winners

And the Oscar goes to… Tom Ford

Tom Ford was, unsurprisingly, one of the most elegant gentlemen on the red carpet. Not only sporting a subtle hint of pocket square, but also a tasteful buttonhole, Mr Ford was a splendid advertisement for his own brand. His jacket was shawl collared, perfectly tailored and was worn buttoned which accentuated the quality of its shape.

Nominated: Ryan Reynolds

While not as recherché as Mr Ford, Ryan Reynolds was comparatively dapper in a single-breasted peak lapel number. No accessories adorned the actor but he cut a sleek figure on the carpet thanks to his physique and a decently cut, and buttoned, dinner suit that, mercifully, avoided vulgarity. A small bow tie that appeared to be a clip on was the only let down.

Nominated: Colin Firth

It was fitting that Tom Ford’s leading man, though evidently not ‘single’, represented the designer as well in the sartorial stakes as in the theatrical. His dinner suit, Tom Ford naturally, was similar to his directors. Firth looks good in a properly cut suit – his tall frame is flattered by a properly accentuated waist. His bow tie, undoubtedly hand tied, was charmingly imperfect. The subtlest ‘old Hollywood’ hint of white poked out of his breast pocket.

Red Carpet Losers

And the Razzie goes to… Jason Bateman

I had expected to award the Razzie to someone with a sheeny necktie like Zac Efron or Jeremy Renner. The former is too young to judge too harshly and, like Taylor Lautner, made a decent effort considering his unremarkable, teeny everyday wear. It would be too cynical and somewhat unfair to criticise those youths who were, no doubt, feeling extraordinarily lucky to be pacing the crimson pile.

And so the award goes to Mr Bateman for one of the laziest ‘dinner suits’ I have ever seen. If he were a penniless student who did not possess black tie and could not afford rental, he would be excused. As it is he is a successful actor with plenty of money and time on his hands. His suit, for it is certainly no ‘tuxedo’, has a skinny notched lapel, oversized arms and has a disturbingly tacky sheen. His bow tie, evidently a clip on, attempts to out-sheen the suit and though his inclusion of a pocket square is to be applauded, his shoes look like they’ve been borrowed from a sixth former.

Nominated: Robert Downey Jr

It’s sad to include Downey Jr as he is clearly having fun with his clothing; for the premiere of Sherlock Holmes he wore a fedora and a three-piece suit. However, as much as he is to be applauded for such a triumphant return to form, this celebratory outfit is awkward and, though interestingly whimsical, clownish in this context. Had the bow been smaller and self-tie and perhaps instead of wearing what appear to be Vans, he could have worn evening pumps (now that’s a real statement Downey) with light blue silk socks, he could have run away with the Oscar.

Nominated: Matt Damon

Considering the bucks at his disposal, you’d think that Mr Damon could afford to purchase a suit that actually looks good on him. As it is, he is attired in the sort of thing people who don’t care about clothes hire from Moss Bros to jeer, jest and vomit in. The lapel is sheeny-shiny, the suit is distractingly boxy, the tie is a satin clip-on and he looks like he picked up his clumpy dress shoes from GAP. Unfortunately, though he is rather different from them in taste, he looks a lot like the rest of the anonymous Hollywood-hunk crowd; uncomfortable in black tie.

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Fishy And Polo: A Picture Update

I haven’t been good at posting pictures recently, so here’s an attempt to make up for it. Here we have images of the polo coat that has been documented in detail over the past few months, but of which I never posted a final image, and of the ‘fishy’ suit I commissioned most recently from Graham Browne. This was my first suit with braces (so with a fish-tail back) as well as featuring a fish-mouth lapel.

The fish-mouth lapel has a narrower gorge (the gap between lapel and collar), with the lapel angling upwards like a peak model but at neither the same angle nor to the same length. It is seen as a nice compromise between a notch and peak, though glancing around the various off-the-peg suits out there you will notice there are many variations on the notch, both in size and angle.

There are essentially two variables – the angle of the seam between lapel and collar, and the size of the gorge. If the seam is more horizontal, the lapel is flatter and sticks out more, achieving some of the broadening effects of a peak. Many modern suits give the impression of a higher gorge simply by changing the angle of the seam. If the size of the gorge is bigger, both collar and lapel are pushed apart. This dates a suit from the 1980s as much as the height of the gorge.

Of course, the notch lapel is defined by the angle of the seam continuing in a straight line along the lapel. A peak and fish-mouth lapel both angle upwards, to a greater or lesser extent.

I like the braces – the trousers certainly hang better at the front and the waist is larger and more comfortable. However, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to having something around my shoulders. The next commission (Minnis mid-grey flannel with patch pockets) will switch back to normal trousers. And this may even be altered to that style eventually.

I couldn’t be happier with the polo coat, though I am reconsidering the choice not to have turn-back cuffs. The style probably suits it better, but the camelhair is so heavy that I feel tired just at the thought of it.

The back of the coat, which featured so heavily in the pieces on its design and construction, is shown here in two different settings – mid and tight. As I am wearing a suit and cardigan underneath, the tight setting (close-up shot) is a little too tight for easy movement here. It would be used if I were just wearing a sweater.

Thanks to Dan ‘the trews’ for photography

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On My Soap Box

Thanks to a spot on article in this week’s London Evening Standard I’ve joined a couple of protest groups.

For the many readers who live outside London, you might not be familiar with the area known as Portobello. The largest open air antiques market in the world, for the sartorially inclined it is a treasure-trove of second-hand fountains pens, cuff links, tie bars, watches and vintage clothing. The street market that stretches from Ladbroke Grove to Notting Hill is a cornucopia of sights, sounds and smells. Portobello provides not only the above but freshly prepared foods from the mundane to the exotic. It’s also home to some great independent retailers, Adam of London being my favourite.

Sadly this is all under threat. Recently an AllSaints store opened on the street, and in order to accommodate its 15,000sqft – the length of seven shop fronts – over 150 independent antique dealers were evicted from what was formally Lipka’s Antiques Arcade. You may think; how is one store a threat?

What retailers see is footfall. What they fail to understand is that the reason people like me go there is precisely because they’re not there. The arrival of this soulless dross palace will give heart to all the other rapacious chain retailers, landlords and property speculators who see this wonderful area as underdeveloped and ripe for exploitation.

What is happening in Portobello is happening in many of London’s unique retail areas – a sort of retail equivalent of acne. Bates Hats and Barons of Piccadilly, a favourite independent gents retailer of mine and fellow columnist Winston Chesterfield, are both victims of redevelopment of buildings on Jermyn Street. While Bates has secured space in Hilditch & Key it won’t be the same. Sadly Barons is going out of business all together. And as good as TM Lewin, Charles Tyrwhitt and Hawes & Curtis are at supplying cheap shirting, they’re not shirt makers as Cary Grant or the Duke of Windsor would have recognised them. How long before Jermyn Street is just any other?

If you saw the BBC’s four part series on Savile Row you’ll have seen the tailors work rooms being moved from top floors into basements to make room for hedge fund managers; and the arrival of Abercrombie & Fitch on the Row indicative of commercial interests coming before character, variety and quality.

It is often said of the English that we are incapable of appreciating what we have.

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A Jewel In Vienna: Wilhelm Jungmann Und Neffe

A recent trip to Vienna for a Central & Eastern Europe Finance Forum (don’t ask) was enlivened by the discovery of Wilhelm Jungmann und Neffe. A men’s outfitter of the first order, it has been supplying accessories, cloth and tailoring services to central European gentlemen for over 125 years.

I didn’t hold out much hope when I strode out from the Hilton Vienna into the clear, crisp sunshine. A break from lawyers, some nice architecture and perhaps a quick coffee in a square-side café. Any retail interest would likely be restricted to small shops stocking Zegna suits, Falke socks and re-branded Drake’s ties.

The problem with living in London is that there’s precious little you can’t buy there. Paris is good, there’s always discoveries to be made in Milan, Naples or Rome; but that’s about it in Europe. Vienna, at first, seemed to be living up to my expectations – one shop with nothing of any quality, another with some Pantherella socks on sale.

Then, in the grand setting of Albertina platz, I saw the windows of Wilhelm Jungmann und Neffe. Good window displays are always a welcome sign. Someone inside clearly has a sense of colour, as well as taste. Among my favourites are Bergdorf Goodman, Turnbull & Asser and – surprisingly the most consistent for colour – Hackett. Now I’ll add WJN to the list.

Yellow umbrellas with tan wooden handles. Camel-coloured jackets and cashmere ties in subtle brown checks. Suitings in pale grey with delicately placed gold paisley handkerchiefs. A themed and inspiring window – and there were three more.

WJN is best known locally for its fabrics, which are imported from England, Italy and locally in Austria. Several bespoke tailors operating in Prague, Bratislava and Budapest visit the shop in order to cater to clients, rather than there being a dedicated tailor on site.

But I was most taken with the accessories. The cashmere scarves and shawls came in 15-20 colours and a similar number of patterns, from the basic to the funky. The staff were particularly proud of two recent acquisitions – one Italian double-sided scarf picked up in Pitti and another design commissioned from some locally in Austria.

Most of all, this is a personally edited and locally sourced collection, which is what makes it worth visiting for someone from London, Milan or Paris. The madder ties, for example, are made by a company just outside Vienna. The store manager said it was the only one still making madder outside England.

I didn’t buy one of those ties and I regret it now. Perhaps I’ll find another CEE Finance Forum.

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