Return of the Mac

Although I am most certainly a follower of Irving Berlin and his music, I must take issue with him on the absurdity of his lyrics. In a particular number;

“Let the rain pitter patter,
But it really doesn’t matter
If the skies are grey.
Long as I can be with you,
It’s a lovely day.”

Irrespective of the company I am keeping, if it is pouring down with rain relentlessly, there is every possibility that I will be visibly, and sorely, vexed if I am not properly equipped. I am a romantic sort but in my opinion, romance has its place; the quiet, warm candlelight of a corner table, for example. Standing out in the rain without proper attire and accessories deadens any beatific feeling I might have had for the world. To me it really does matter that it pitter patters; on days when there is every chance of being absolutely drenched, I always turn to my long rain trench coat and a large umbrella. I haven’t given in to the practice of wearing galoshes as of yet but as my expenditure on shoes rises, surely, I will be seriously considering the possibility.

There is a curious defiance against rainwear and accessories in some quarters. ‘It’s only a bit of water for crying out loud! You don’t think the same thing when you step in the shower.’ Of course not because I know, as do all those who use showers, that when I step from the cubicle, sloshing wet, I will reach for a warm and dry towel which will prevent me from developing hypothermia. When you waltz through the cold and windy streets of London, laughing at those fidgeting and fussing with the paraphernalia of rain-avoidance, you little realise the danger you place yourself in. Whenever I have been stuck without an umbrella, proper coat and means of transportation I have invariably developed a long lasting cold – the unpleasantness will make you wish you had not forced your poor body into a state of such susceptibility.

Raincoats are often divided into two categories – those that are completely waterproof and those that are merely ‘shower proof.’ Waterproof clothing is not easy to find and does not often appear on the shelves of elegant gentleman’s outfitters. The thinking being that a gentleman of proper means is hardly likely to require the same material as a North Sea fisherman when caught in a Regent Street storm; for both aesthetic and practical reasons. However Mackintosh, the British brand that gave the ‘mac’ its name, claim a patent for rubberised waterproof cloth that goes back to 1823. Despite the early failures of the firm, the technique was perfected and Mackintosh today continue to provide excellent, waterproof rainwear for gentlemen.

They might scoff at Burberry, a brand who can only trace their rainwear heritage to 1880, the year they invented gabardine, but Burberry is better credited with providing raincoats of iconic design; particularly the oft-copied trench coat, worn by officers in the soily tunnels of Northern France during the First World War. The trench became popular and was featured prominently in deliciously designed Hollywood Oscar horses like ‘Casablanca’ with Humphrey Bogart and ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ with Audrey Hepburn, worn appropriately in moments where the vulnerability of humanity was most exposed.

Shower proof clothing is easier to find, particularly on the high street; however, I was particularly nonplussed by the wet patches that appeared after a day out in the rain on the lining of a ‘raincoat’ bought from a high street store. Some rainwear will keep the water off and away from clothing underneath if only it is applied lightly. Some cheaper, fashion rainwear is best described as ‘rain resistant’; in such a case, always take an umbrella in addition. The rich putty coloured double breasted raincoat available at Burberry is certainly the product standard, but it’s rather common place and, in my opinion, when entirely wet looks rather like sodden cardboard. Navy blues and blacks are far less common, but the really dandy version is surely the creamy white – perfect for brightening the most frightening of storms.

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Return to Old Briefcases

On a recent excursion to the shops, accompanied by a friend, we found ourselves in the luggage section of a large and famous department store rather by accident. We had wanted to find quite another department but such is the labyrinthine layout of this gargantuan store, we had turned in a wrong direction somewhere and had ended up in an area of brass locks, leather tags and superfluous straps; surely, we needed nothing here. “Hold on” my companion muttered “I need something for the office, something like a briefcase.” Now I should mention that of my acquaintances, this particular friend happens to be one of the more traditional. Picture cutaway French collars, formally patterned ties, double breasted suits and substantial overcoats and you will be well acquainted with his wardrobe.

Due to my knowledge of his traditional taste, I imagined that he would make a beeline for the classic briefcases; stiff brown leather with plenty of brass. He picked up a canvas bag with a shoulder strap, to my immediate surprise, and asked me what I thought. I admonished him and asked rather acerbically when he was planning on re-attending primary school. The issue is not that I have a problem with such an item as a product but that a sensible, suit wearing solicitor of his education and aforementioned classical taste should consider such a strange bag. For one thing, a bag with a strap is an absolute devil on one’s suit; even after a short time the wear of weight on a shoulder shows and it pulls the jacket away from its position on the torso, distorting the construction. It’s even worse when the top button is fastened and the weight pulls at the centre of the suit.

The other problem with these ‘postman’ bags is that they actually make more difficult what they are intended to make easy (transporting documents, laptops and stationery). The fidgeting one must go through for the ‘comfortable’ position, the way the bag knocks at the thigh. Placing the weight of work on the shoulder sounds like a sensible solution but it can cause other problems; these bags and suits were simply not destined for each other. I remember young chaps at school whose suits evidenced ‘shoulder fatigue’; resulting, over time, in the suit shoulder pulling away from the neck, exposing an inch or two of shirt shoulder.

“Look” I said to my companion “these are far better for you; you spend too much on suits to have them ruined by a postbag.” We were inspecting a collection of classic Mulberry briefcases with simple push locks. I motioned approvingly and yet, to my dismay, but not surprise, my companion opened one and, chuckling heartily, pulled out a tissue-wrapped shoulder strap – detachable and adjustable. Moving on we discovered the more classic examples; bridle leather cases with solid brass fittings and a key lock. Attaché cases with wonderful suede linings and combination locks. It was a relief to discover that no one had attempted to attach a shoulder strap to these well designed and long-lasting items.

It was when my companion stood in the full length mirror, straight and tall with the briefcase in his grasp, I realised another thing about these magnificent strap-free traditional cases of high quality: they look ever so much finer than all the alternatives.

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The Odd Trousers

“But those trousers” she said “don’t match your jacket.” I happened to be socialising with a group of friends when a young lady in our company uttered these words. She was absolutely spot on; keenly perceptive and interested. “You are quite right. They don’t.” I replied “But the real question is; do they marry well?” Frowns, analysing squints and much silence passed before the response which was, in all honesty, rather positive. It set me to thinking about the sustained growth and influence of the suit culture; the culture that dictates one wear identical material on one’s legs to that on one’s torso. Consternation at the wearing of a plain jacket with patterned trousers, or vice versa, somehow smacked of other matrimonial appraisals: whispers behind the napkins and other mindless twittering about the ‘wholly unsuitable’ social match of an earl to an actress. My jacket and trousers were not such worlds apart. It was the simple fact that they were not equal that appealed to me and provoked initial disquiet in another.

Suits are splendid but I am easily bored by them. I always feel that I must liven them up with accessories and vests. Sometimes the result is a little ridiculous but I feel that the monotony of fabric needs breaking up. I seem to have the greatest fun in wearing jackets and trousers as a ‘mixture’; a plain black jacket with some grey houndstooth trousers, a light grey jacket with some charcoal chalkstripes. I don’t think there is anything ‘casual’ about such ensembles. The old gentlemen of the city, dressed in bowler hats and carrying umbrellas, were famous for marching around the Square Mile in their striped trousers and black jackets. Morning dress, one of the most formal forms of dress, is most often represented by striped or houndstooth trousers and a dark coloured tailcoat. It was common for Victorian gentlemen to wear morning coats and frock coats with alternative trousers - either matching the waistcoat to the trousers or to the jacket.

The other alternative is to wear a patterned jacket and waistcoat with plain trousers; for example a checked tweed jacket with matching waistcoat and white trousers as Jude Law demonstrates in the picture above. Mr Fry, as Oscar Wilde, sat next to him, looks rather like a gelato counter in comparison; the affectation in his ensemble is the ‘daring’ in wearing such a colour of suit. However, the affectation in Mr Law’s outfit, the pairing of a matching jacket and waistcoat with alternative trousers, is far more satisfying to my eye.

I think one must be careful in choosing the ingredients for these ‘cocktails.’ The cut of the jacket must not be too dissimilar to the intended style of the trousers; i.e. wearing skinny trousers with a substantial jacket could look rather odd. Colours are also very important and I always look to marry the shoes, trousers, vest and jacket through mutually complementary tones. Despite all the mixing, patterns and colours, there must be some logic; some connection between the individual items that is immediately discernible when making the selection.

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Sartorial Love/Hate: The Flat Cap

Many a time I have felt the wind nipping keenly, I have turned to accessories to shield my skin from the cold. Scarves, gloves and upturned collars have provided sweet respite. I have also turned to headgear when venturing out for extended periods. It is well known that covering the head is a very efficient way of retaining warmth but as a practice it is rather overlooked; on a recent day, particularly blustery, I encountered countless men, of all ages, trussed up to their necks in coat and scarf whilst the harsh wind blew through their hair: the equivalent of turning the heating up whilst leaving the front door open.

When I do wear headgear I am most grateful for the comfort and warmth. So much so that I am taken to wearing headgear that is considered inappropriate, particularly for town, and more than a little unusual. One type of hat I am rather fond of that seems to attract as much derision as admiration is the flat-cap. Yes, sadly, the flat cap appears to be yet another example of sartorial love/hate.

“I don’t know what it is” someone told me “but they just look wrong.” Another acquaintance ventured to inform that the problem with the style is that it looks so dreadfully ordinary; “It’s a farmer’s hat, nothing more.” Saddened by such beastly reproaches, I am not yet discouraged. I think that although there are grander, better shaped and more appropriately metropolitan forms of headgear to be had, the flat cap is versatile, easy to store and travel with and excellent value. However, the hat does have inevitable limitations. To begin with, it is a casual hat. Flat caps worn with suits do not make for a graceful outfit; there is the vague air of an obnoxious Fleet Street reporter about a gentleman who wears his pinstripes with a ‘flatty.’ It’s a weekender; a hat for more relaxed ensembles. It need not always be accompanied by tweed jackets or Tattersall shirts either. A grey herringbone version would look splendid with a blue blazer, light grey roll neck and charcoal trousers or perhaps a shawl collared knit cardigan and jeans. The difference in wearing a flat cap informally is that it brings dignity and grace to simple ensembles.

For many, this is nothing more than a country casual and so tweed is an appropriate material of manufacture. Indeed, some of the best flat caps money can buy are available from Lock & Co on St James Street, but they do tend to cater for the country set; wool and cashmere tweeds with bright checks. The same can be said of many milliners. The solution, for those inclined towards the flatty, might be to purchase a more metropolitan-friendly blocked felt cap.

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Brand Review: Aspinal of London

Historic brands can be mightily deceptive. Early trading dates might stand proud above doorways; photographs of a visiting member of the Rat Pack may adorn the walls inside; but counters seem more like museum display cabinets and each product is accompanied by rather long-winded explanations of ‘heritage’ and ‘continuity’. I adore history and admire firms with great heritage, but I fear a good many lose sight of the reason for their success. Some will quietly inform you that they’ve been serving members of the same families for generations. However the constant reductions, gift-shop atmosphere of their flagship stores and increasingly disillusioned staff indicate that serious custom is dwindling: the great laurels on which they rest have begun to wither.

Aspinal of London is almost the exact opposite of such firms. To begin with, Aspinal’s is remarkably young. They have no photographs of an Edwardian shop opening, signatures of appreciation from George V or amusing anecdotes concerning Hollywood patrons. Their focus is entirely on the products. There is no attempt to craft false heritage but the quality of the products and the particular style of the brand deceive you into thinking, quite innocently, that it has been around since sepia. The smart Aspinal shield is stamped onto shining metal clasps, leather tags and printed silk. Famous amongst young ladies of my acquaintance for their leather bound social diaries and calendars, Aspinal’s does not have the pedigree or the warrants that the stationer Smythson possesses, but then it has aspirations and ideas beyond goatskin handbag fillers.

Fabulous Malacca umbrellas with interesting canopies (pinstripe and polka dot), delicious crocodile effect leather briefcases with smooth suede linings, Art Deco style mother of pearl cufflinks and colonial style canvas reporter bags with leather trim reveal that the man behind the brand knows a thing or two about design and product quality. Despite the fact that it has been around for less than a decade, Aspinal is one of those companies you feel that has always been there, in the background – like one of those fabulous Florentine paper shops that have been in business since the Renaissance. The selection of ties and bow ties are not all to my taste pattern wise, but they are of a high quality silk and, for their market, are reasonably priced. In fact, everything Aspinal produce is reasonably priced for the quality of manufacture and finish (nearly everything sold is actually manufactured and not merely designed in the UK). A cabin bag for £725 may sound expensive but when you consider that it is made from calf leather and real hide, elegantly lined in red grosgrain and finished with solid brass closure fittings and that an equivalent from Vuitton, manufactured with monogram ‘canvas’, and not leather, costs between £1150 and £1500, you realise that with Aspinal you are not paying for a name at all but simply an excellent product. How refreshing.

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