How to Salvage Your Clothes
This is advice that was given to me on when you can save clothes that are ripped, stained or holed, and what to do about it.
The situation: A sweater with a hole in it
Can it be salvaged? The more unravelled the fabric and the finer the knit, the more difficult it is to mend without being too obvious.
What to do: Find a seamstress who can reattach the loose knitted ends. Whatever you do, don’t wear a sweater with a hole in it if you plan on saving it.
The situation: A sock with a hole in it
Can it be salvaged? No point. The same goes for t-shirts.
What to do: Buy a new one and move on.
The situation: A small, clean cut through a suit
Can it be salvaged? Yes, provided it’s a cut rather than a rip and that the weave does not have a complicated pattern.
What to do: The services of a good reweaver, also known as an invisible mender. Trouble is, invisible menders are very hard to spot. Alice Zotta at 2 West 45th St (Room 1701) is recommended in New York.
The situation: A suit jacket with bubbly lapels
Can it be saved? No. The bubbles happen when a cheap suit – the kind that has a fused construction, made with glue rather than stitched – is caught in the rain. The glue dissolves. To tell if your jacket is fused or canvassed, pinch the material around a buttonhole with both hands, one on the inside and one on the outside. See if there is any material floating between the outside and inside when you separate them.
What to do: Buy a more expensive suit.
The situation: Salt-stained shoes
Can they be saved? Yes, provided they aren’t also dried out (see below).
What to do: Take a 50-50 solution of water and vinegar and wipe it sparingly over the shoes. Wipe off the excess. Once the salt stains have disappeared, treat your shoes to a loving, liberal repolish at the cobblers.
The situation: Shoes whose leather has become cracked by too-rapid drying after a downpour. Or, indeed, a lack of shoe cream for a good few years.
Can they be saved? Sorry. Consider this a cautionary tale. Leather is organic, and if you dry it out too quickly, it’ll go stiff and the fibers will break at the stress points.
What to do: Next time, wipe down your wet shoes and then dry them slowly, away from direct heat. Put newspaper inside to absorb the moisture.
Bookmark, Share or Email this article • Leave a Comment
Reader Question: Tips on the Go
Nick, London: Do you have any practical tips for dealing with stains on clothing and other practical tips?
Sure. First, some practical tips to deal with problems if you are on the road and not within reach of a good haberdasher.
Situation: Unshined shoes.
What to do: First, try rubbing them lightly with a cloth or towel. Much of what appears to be a dullness in the leather is often accumulated dust. In fact, this should generally be done every morning before putting on your shoes. The old rubbing-the-toes-on-the-back-of-your-trouser-leg trick also works, though it doesn’t deal with much other than the toes.
If you’re desperate, eat a banana. Then use the banana peel to give a temporary shine to your shoes. It’s not ideal, but it won’t damage the leather, being natural. Avoid any “quick shine” products as they normally contain silicone, which is effectively giving your shoes a plastic coating.
Situation: Popped a shirt button
What to do: Use a safety pin. What do you mean you don’t carry a safety pin? Well find one and use it to fasten the shirt, making sure that both ends of the pin lie flat against the shirt.
Situation: Spilled wine on yourself
What to do: Using a dry white napkin, soak up as much liquid as possible from the surface before it’s absorbed, then dab on cold water so the stain stays damp and doesn’t set. Never rub. If the stain is on a suit or tie, ask someone to recommend a good dry cleaner and go immediately. If it is on a shirt, put straight in the wash.
Situation: Your zipper is stuck
What to do: Check to make sure no fabric is caught; if it is, try pulling the zipper up and then down again. Finally, rub the tip of a graphite pencil along the zipper. Graphite powder is a great dry lubricant.
Situation: Static cling
What to do: Find a wire hanger in a nearby coat closet and rub it along the clingy area; the metal will remove the charge.
And one more non-clothing tip…
Situation: Bad breath in the middle of a party
What to do: Find a glass of water and a lemon. Squeeze as much of the lemon into the water as you can. Either drink it or, if you’re hidden away in a corner somewhere, gargle it.
Next week, some general maintenance tips for your suits…
Bookmark, Share or Email this article • Leave a Comment
The Allure of Corthay Shoes
Pierre Corthay is one of the best shoemakers around, but is not well-known outside France. Trained at both John Lobb and Berluti, he has a pedigree from possibly the two most respected shoemakers in the world, for quality and design respectively.
Like Berluti, he has used some innovative marketing and eye-catching designs to gain attention across France. And he has gradually acquired stockists in Japan, Germany and the USA (Leffot and Bergdorf Goodman). If he were owned by the giant LVMH, he’d probably be as big as Berluti already.
I like Corthay shoes because they are sleek without being pointy (cf. Artioli), have a lovely patina without being over the top (cf. Berluti), and are universally renowned to have great construction (again, cf. Berluti).
I wore my pair, probably inadvisably, in torrential rain in London recently. They coped very well, without a stain on them and no signs of damage. In fact, come to think of it, they had had a few spots of rain on a previous occasion and there were no marks that time either.
I hasten to add that on neither occasion did I submit the shoes to this treatment on purpose. But as an assistant in the Gaziano & Girling showroom told me that day, “you wouldn’t want to be wearing a pair of Berlutis on a day like this.”
A look at the website (www.corthay.fr) illustrates the Corthay taste for the extreme. Neon-orange leathers and turquoise two-tones are always going to stand out from the crowd. But I am informed that 90% of the shoes they sell are still black or brown.
What blacks and browns though. Highlights are the two-holed derbies with elongated tongue, which look great in smart and clean shades, and the suede-and-calf combinations – a modern take on the traditional business model. I opted for a brown version of the black two-tones illustrated (colour shown in the magnified image).
Having trained at Lobb in 1984 and become the senior craftsman at Berluti in 1985, Corthay opened his own store in 1990. Five years later a contract for 150 bespoke pairs from the Sultan of Brunei kick-started the business, which added a ready-to-wear in 2001. A tricky experience with a subcontractor led the company to start doing its own ready-to-wear and opening its own factory in 2003.

Today, Corthay probably competes with Aubercy for the reputation of the best-respected shoemaker in France. I highly recommend a look next time you are in New York (Leffot, Bergdorf Goodman) or, indeed, are strolling down Rue Volney in Paris.
Bookmark, Share or Email this article • Leave a Comment
Make Berluti Your Fifth Pair. Part 2: Design
This is the continuation of a debate begun in a previous posting. To see that post, click here.
There are two important points to note about these commentators, though. The first concedes that he wears his Berluti shoes relatively rarely, as shoes for a special occasion and generally for evening wear. They are therefore not on a heavy rotation and rarely receive a full day’s use. He admits they are a little delicate, as many fine things are, and should be treated as such.
This suggests to me that while Berluti makes a fine pair of shoes, they should not be the second or third pair you buy. Get the basics first, your essential black oxfords and chocolate derbys – the shoes you will wear to work, the shoes you will wear more than once a week.
Then consider Berluti as something special. For you this may mean they are your fifth pair of high-end shoes. For these commentators I rather suspect they are their ninth or twelfth.
The second point is that the more critical Berluti customer still owns a pair, and without regret. Despite his reservations about the quality of the construction, he is happy he bought a pair and would do so again. This is true of almost all detractors of Berluti that I have seen: they still love the pair they own.
This reinforces the impression of Berluti as an exception, a treat. No matter how many great pairs of solidly-built English shoes you own, a little bit of moon-painted frippery will get you eventually (Berluti famously claims that the patinas on some of its shoes are painted by the light of the moon, enhancing their effect. Rubbish, of course, but it all adds to their frankly very successful PR mythology.)
The second point also shows that there is more than one way to judge a pair of shoes. Edward Green and John Lobb are generally considered to be among the best-constructed shoes available. But some of the designs leave me a little cold. I own a pair of Oundle monk-fronts on the 888 last from Edward Green – a long look with a chiselled toe. But the more conservative lasts, such as 202, just seem stumpy to my eye. The same comment has been made about some Vass shoes – they are wonderfully made but you’d never want to put them on your feet.

At some point, you pay for design. With Berluti, this is a large portion of what you pay for. Some of the designs are just horrible (Rapieces-Reprises) and some are gorgeous (Piercing). But Olga is famed for pushing the envelope on design, with new shapes, engraving, personalised tattoos and chunky rubber soles. Many of her innovations, like the brogueing on wholecuts, have now been copied by several other designers.
In conclusion, buy Berluti as an extravagance and buy it for its design. They’re well-made (I don’t believe the rumours about basic construction being done in China today) but they won’t hold up too well after several trips to the pub, or after a few English winters of cold slushy rain.
I’m more a fan of Pierre Corthay these days. But more of that in the next posting.
Bookmark, Share or Email this article • Leave a Comment
Make Berluti Your Fifth Pair. Part 1: Construction
Many people a sartorial bent idolise Berluti shoes. And well they may. Olga Berluti designs beautiful footwear that stands out for its sleek lines and subtle patinas. But there are many questions over the quality of its construction.
Let’s start with the certainties. Berluti shoes, like many made in Italy (they are constructed in the Stefano Bi factory outside Ferrara, though designed in France), are Blake constructed. This means that the shoe’s upper is folded underneath itself and sewn directly onto the sole of the shoe, unlike Goodyear welts which involve sewing the upper onto a new ridge of leather, before attaching that to the sole.
Most English shoes and their American heirs (Alden, Allen Edmonds) use Goodyear welts. They make the shoe more water resistant and tougher. They also make it easier and quicker to resole the shoe. So Berluti shoes are less likely to stand up to rain and general dampness.
They can be resoled, but it requires a Blake-specific machine. Cobblers that use these can be hard to find, but then if you’re going to pay Berluti prices for shoes you should really send them back to the manufacturer to get resoled and rebuilt to maximise their longevity.
The advantage of Blake construction is that the sole can be cut a lot closer to the upper, leaving less of a lip and making the design sleeker. The width of a sole around the upper varies hugely among Goodyear-welted shoes, but none are quite as thin as Blake-made models.
Blake shoes are not necessarily of inferior quality. Although the technique was originally created to make it easier to produce shoes in a factory, and some very poorly made Blake shoes are churned out in Italy, the top quality lines are expertly made.
But they are more delicate. Quite how delicate Berluti shoes are is a matter of some debate. Some say they have worn them for years without any major problems. Others report that they wrinkled badly and did not hold up well to continued use.
In an online forum intended to discuss such matters, one Berluti enthusiast said “I have been a customer since 1998. I believe their shoes are very well made, there are a couple of pairs I have worn for a long time and they are holding up beautifully.”
A more critical customer pointed out: “One issue with Berluti ready-to-wear is the use of Venezia leather. According to Berluti PR, this leather allows for the beautiful patina available on Berluti shoes. Unfortunately, it is also quite thin and delicate, which means that they can look very wrinkled after some wear.”
The conclusion to this debate will appear here later in the week…
Bookmark, Share or Email this article • Leave a Comment
• Ruffs, Cuffs and Farthingales (by Winston Chesterfield)
• Permanent Style (by Simon Crompton)
- Clinton: Glad to see someone else is...
- Nicola Linza: Chris, It was very refreshing...
- Nicola Linza: Winston, This is an excellent...
- Nicola Linza: Kevin, I must tell you I had...
- Keith: I always wondered what a reweaver...





