The Coat Project 5

We’re almost there with the camel polo coat. Since I covered it last we’ve had a second basted fitting, where it was ripped apart again and re-cut. Then it went away to be made-up and today I had the final fitting – all complete save buttons and cuffs.

A coat is not usually cut to fit snugly over just a shirt, so at every stage we have taken in the waist a little. At this stage we took in an inch more, but I think that is enough – any more and it would look too shaped, rather effeminate. In the picture you see here I am wearing just a shirt underneath, and it fits quite snugly on the waist now (with the pleat in the back at its smallest setting). Obviously that means the shoulders are a tiny bit big, but nothing you can do about that – you can’t alter the shoulders every time you take your jacket off.

The pleat that we planned all the way up the back has been altered slightly (search this site for Coat Project to see all the history). Rather than starting at the neck, it now starts three inches above the waist. We decided that a full-length pleat sacrificed too much control over the fit of the back. This way there is still a lot of room to alter the lower back, waist and hips but the top of the coat will retain a consistent shape.

At the initial design stage I was afraid the raised seam, double breast and patch pockets would look too busy. But the raised seam is very subtle, neat, possibly even smart. (I asked that the raised seam be added to the welt of the patch pocket on the final coat as well.)

I am also particularly pleased with how the split sleeve worked out – lining up the shoulder seam with this is not easy, but looks very sharp (see below).

And I lowered the button stance slightly – the three buttons can be seen marked on here in chalk. This was to balance with the length of the coat. You can also see a chalk mark where I have requested the sleeves to be shortened slightly. Coat sleeves should completely cover jacket sleeves and shirtsleeves, but then I like my jacket sleeves short anyway.

In the picture you can also see that the overlap of the coat partly covers one of the patch pockets. This is because we extended the overlap as part of the extra waisting; that pocket will be moved further round.

Finally, you will notice from the below pic that the patch pocket is sloped outwards towards the bottom. I assumed this was a sporting detail to accommodate gun shells etc, but apparently it is so that the two edges of the pocket are parallel to the front edge of the coat and the side seam. As the coat is gently flared, so too are the pockets… Apparently all flaps on suit jackets should be sloped in a similar manner, they are just too short to notice.

Hopefully final coat next Tuesday!

Sharp Facts

Every time I read a book on men’s style, I underline facts I don’t know. Over the past few years, the number of underlinings in my books (and magazines) has got mercifully less. Fewer defaced volumes on the shelf.

But with Eric Musgrave’s Sharp Suits, the number of facts multiplied. I gave up 50-pages in, so criminal did it seem to write all over the book. The problem is, this is a history of menswear rather than a guide. And a history not only contains more facts, those facts come with quotes, anecdotes and supporting evidence.

I’d heard most of the stories about Edward VII, for example, but I didn’t know this quote from German Chancellor, Prince von Bulow: “In the country in which unquestionably the gentlemen dressed best, he was the best-dressed gentlemen.”

Equally, I knew Edward’s innovations included the dinner jacket, wearing tweeds at the races and leaving open the button of a waistcoat. But I didn’t know he was also responsible for the black Homburg hat, shorter tails on evening wear and turn-ups on trousers (to protect the bottoms from muddy ground).

I shall endeavour to scatter some facts from Sharp Suits throughout future posts. But for the moment here’s a few to be getting on with:

• A 1960 inventory of the Duke of Windsor’s wardrobe listed 15 evening suits, 55 lounge suits and three formal suits (all with two pairs of trousers).

• By 1849 Brooks Brothers had 1,500 people making its clothes, and could put a claim to being the first company to offer ready-made clothing.

• After the Second World War there were approximately 100,000 tailors working in Italy, dressing around 85% of the adult population. And yet it was the Italians that became the leading manufacturers of ready-made suits in the modern era.

• Hickey Freeman’s greatest innovation was to bring the various parts of suit production into a single factory. Up until then different tailors worked on different parts of a suit in different locations, often at home.

• The innovation of Hart Schaffner & Marx (which bought Hickey) was to offer proportioned suits with basic body types – tall, short, stout and thin.

• “Pierre Cardin was arguably the most influential menswear designer of the twentieth century…he changed attitudes to dress in men who had relatively little interest in their appearance” Colin McDowell. Cardin ruined this reputation with astonishingly promiscuous licensing.

• The hottest trend of 1962 was the suit silhouette worn by a group of public school boys that gathered around Le Drugstoe, a café on the Champs Elysées in Paris. They went to Marina, an old tailor on Rue Vernier in the seventeenth arondissement, who was the first to cut flat-fronted, wide-bottomed trousers with small cuffs known as marinettes.

I’m done. More reading to do now.

How To Wear A Trilby

It’s not easy wearing a hat. You stand out more in a crowd than a man wearing polka-dot knickerbockers or a cape. The hat radically changes a man’s silhouette, probably more than any other item of clothing.

People look at you if you wear a hat. Anyone that is passionate about classic men’s style is probably used to the stares of others. But a (proper) hat draws stares from everyone, everywhere. I bought my first proper hat – a brown-felt trilby from Lock & Co – a couple of weeks ago and am just getting used to these sensations, this attention.

The comments on that previous post included: “I have been a daily hat wearer for years. While I do get the occasional odd glance while wearing a hat, I mainly get compliments” and also “wearing a hat makes you look like a dope, especially if the hat is a very fine one.” I can completely understand why men are passionate about hats in both directions.

I think the reason is that everyone knows hats are incredibly practical, but they don’t feel comfortable wearing one. And I can’t help feeling that perhaps they resent that. Or they resent that their head gets cold and they feel silly in a beanie. And flat caps look odd, or over trendy.

A hat keeps you warm. It’s an overused fact, but a fact nonetheless, that most of your body heat escapes through your head. When you get older, losing your hair, many years from now (as the Beatles put it) you need something to cover your head in cold weather. It’s necessary.

And a hat keeps you dry. Remember those close ups of Humphrey Bogart, standing in the rain on a street corner, watching the house opposite? The rain was pelting down on his hat and trench coat. But he wasn’t getting wet. It’s an oddly liberating experience when you first where a proper hat in the rain, and everyone around you is either clashing umbrellas or scampering for cover.

If you just don’t like hats, fine. But trust me, if you have even the sneakiest suspicion that you might like one, try it a few times and you won’t want to turn back. Sure, you’ll feel self-conscious, but that’s the case with wearing anything new. I used to feel self-conscious wearing a pocket handkerchief. Now I get odd looks if I’m not wearing one.

Some hat enthusiasts will disagree with me, but I think a hat is also an unusual enough accessory to need balance elsewhere. I won’t wear my hat with a double-breasted suit, tie and briefcase. Because to me that is straying almost into costume – or a lack of individuality. I think my hat looks best with casual trousers, a blazer and open-necked shirt. Perhaps a raincoat on top. In the same way I wouldn’t wear a tie, pocket handkerchief, tie clip and boutonniere to work, no matter how good it might look. It’s a question of balance and personal taste.

Finally, for those that requested it, there are shots here of my hat with its box, and a photo of how it looks rolled up for travel.

Final Boots From Cliff Roberts

I have written previously about the boots being made for me by Cliff Roberts, an old hand of Northampton shoemaking who started making his own shoes from his conservatory recently. Well, I finally took delivery of them this past weekend.

Cliff was kind enough to bring them down to London personally, partly to compensate for an inability to source a tool for securing the speed hooks, which had delayed the process by a couple of weeks.

I was immediately impressed by the quality of the leather, which was very soft and supple. In particular, the leather lining and suede in the upper half of the boot was especially malleable. The finishing was also impressive, with Cliff taking the time to put my initials, as well as a pattern of arrows, in the heel with tacks.

Cliff’s lasts are slightly wider than average for the various fittings, so my size of 8½ E and 8 F came up a little bigger than I expected. As Cliff points out, boots do need a little more room in order to get the foot in easily – and the high fastening ensures that there’s no chance of any slippage. It’s marginal, but I should perhaps have gone with a D and E.

This is one of the obvious drawbacks of having shoes made remotely: you can’t try on a range of sizes and pick accordingly. Then again, I have frequently bought the wrong size in ready-to-wear shoes in the past even after trying them on.

From a construction point of view, the beveling of the waist on the boots and the greater support for the instep both make a big difference: touches that remind you of bespoke shoes rather than ready-to-wear.

Talking of bespoke, Cliff is considering launching a bespoke business next year, with lasts being made by Springline and being used to make ‘sprung’ or ‘braced’ trial shoes that can then be tried on by the client, and used to adjust the last. Cliff has tried to make shoes direct from a last that has been created by scanning a client’s feet, but the fit is never quite right. As I wrote previously in two posts on finding cheap bespoke, others’ experience shows that bespoke shoes are more a question of trial and error. So Cliff’s service should work well – and after the initial outlay to have a last made (around £230) the price of the shoes would be the same.

Some pictures of the hand-bunking, inking and toe tacks below. I’m off to put the boots on again; they really are very nice.

Patrick Grant On Dressing Well

The proprietor of Norton & Sons gives his thoughts on dressing up and dressing well.

What’s the key to a great men’s outfit?

The great thing about the way men dress is we have so many bits and pieces we can put together. And if you’ve got an eye for it, a little bit of flair, you can lift an ordinary outfit into something quite special just by, you know, picking up the purple overcheck in a dark-grey Prince-of-Wales and accessorising that with your pocket handkerchief. Someone will see it, just catch that item, and they’ll think: ‘huh, I like that.’

Do many people do that these days?

No. I think it’s a real shame that we’ve got to the point where people who want to dress nicely feel embarrassed to do so. That they feel they can’t wear both a tie and a pocket handkerchief because of how it will be perceived. It’s depressing to me.

So few people get any joy out of getting dressed in the morning these days. It’s a shame because it can be a very pleasant, slightly introspective pause in your otherwise hectic schedule: ‘I’m just going to take 10 minutes and find the right tie to go with this shirt.’

I used to spend hours and hours swapping ties and things around. But you tend to find that, the older you get, the easier it is. It’s just experience like anything else. Our shirtmaker and has been on or around Savile Row for 35 years now, here and Jermyn Street, and he just has a good eye. You almost never see him wearing anything that isn’t spot on. And it’s never just a plain dark tie, a pale shirt and a dark suit. It’s always something with a little colour.

We try to express that sometimes in our shop window. There have been ones there recently with grey shirts and purple knit ties, as well as other colours.

Do you like knit ties as an alternative to silk?

Yes, it’s the sort of tie that gives a little more character. A printed silk tie is fairly ordinary, business-like. A woollen tie feels less dressy and makes you feel more comfortable. Like Lanvin’s ties – someone pointed out to me recently – some of which are crumpled and perhaps don’t make you feel like you’re actually wearing a tie. People would often wear a bow tie before they’d wear a silk tie.

I often feel the same way with woollen handkerchiefs. They feel much less dressy than silk.

Absolutely. Though more people are wearing handkerchiefs these days, almost more than are wearing ties, which is really funny. I’m glad they are, because you need a little bit of colour. If I take out my handkerchief, this automatically becomes a less interesting outfit. Without the tie as well, it becomes very dull. It’s something anyone could put together.

[Patrick is wearing a mid-grey herringbone suit, blue and white Bengal-striped shirt, pale blue silk tie printed with a white geometric pattern, and a silk handkerchief that is a mix of blue florals, cream and navy edging]

You can understand why men feel very uninspired by clothes when they see their peers walking around in just a suit and shirt, or most of the time just a shirt and trousers.

Exactly. If the trousers are beautifully cut and the shirt fits very well – as in it isn’t billowing out around your waist and flapping underneath your arm – it can look nice. But it’s rarely going to be that exciting. It needs something different. Wear a tank top or something that adds a little colour.

Something dark, dignified, but still with interest and sophistication – like a dark purple or bottle green.

Sure. My favourite colour combination at the moment is blue and yellow. We’ve got some really nice shirtings at Tautz in blues and yellows. Some nice bright ties too.

[E Tautz is the ready-to-wear label launched, or more accurately relaunched, by Patrick last year. Available in Matches and Harrod’s.]

Orange, too, is something I’m into. For the summer, perhaps pale blues as the base, indigo somewhere and then a very bright, citrus orange. Almost orange peel. Not a lot of it – just a dash of it, in a tie for example.

I saw you say previously that you are very influenced by what you see people wearing that come into the shop.

Yes, absolutely. It’s all the little details you pick up on. A little bit of colour here and there. Even if it’s just the edge of a pocket square that picks out something in the tie – just that little bit of thoughtfulness. And there’s one customer that always, always wears bright red socks. It isn’t going to match with anything, but it’s a statement.

Another wears his watch over his wrist, like Agnelli. He has his shirts specially made so I suppose it’s easy to get them to work with the watch. But then if you are as prominent in his industry as he is, you can get away with it.

Do you make mistakes in what you wear?

Sure, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by experiments. Particularly when I was younger. That’s what your childhood’s for really, making horrendous fashion mistakes. I remember they used to have a menswear section in the back of Elle, perhaps once a quarter, and I picked out outfits in there, copying them all exactly. I’d think, ‘oh I don’t have that blue tie exactly, so I’ll try something else instead.’ And it would end up being a horrendous mistake.

And then you would see yourself coming in the opposite direction the next day?

Well no this was Edinburgh, so the chances of that are pretty slim. But a lot of it is just trial and error.

There are some people, I suspect, that look at their wardrobe, pick three things out and look perfect. Other people pick three, decide against it, try another combination, reject that and finally decide on something. Still others pick out an outfit, walk out the door and look like a dog’s breakfast without knowing it. I think I’m in the second category rather than the first. There aren’t many in the first.

You develop staples over time, that you know work.

Yes, things you revert to. That’s where experience comes to play, because eventually you’ll have enough good outfits that they will all start overlapping. There will be a Venn diagram that over time has more and more things in the intersections as you add circles. Then at some point in your life you will know how to combine everything. I haven’t got to that point yet but some of my customers certainly look like they have, and they’re all in their sixties so I’ve got a couple of decades to carry on learning.

I think some people probably find it quite frustrating that they seem to spend all their time trying and never quite get it right.

Well then they need to walk around Savile Row a little and see what everyone else is doing. There should be no shame in just picking up on what other people do. I write it all down – if someone comes in wearing something really unusual that I like, particularly a combination of lots of different colours and patterns, I write it all down – shirt was this, tie this, suit, handkerchief, socks, shoes, everything. There’s nothing wrong with copying other people.