New Year’s Sartorial Resolutions

“Have you got any ressies?” someone asked me recently.

“Ressies?” I winced.

“Yea, you know resolutions. New Year’s. I’ve got a few. Need to go to the gym I joined – last January!”


I’m not much of a ‘ressie’ man. For me, things like going to the gym and eating healthily don’t really require the New Year ‘spell’; my formidable year-round vanity sees to that.

I could make some weak self-promises around work, some attempt to ‘correct’ my personality – whatever the hell that means – and I could probably set-up a direct debit to a dog charity but I am not so woolly-minded that I can’t see them as mere bait for the bandwagon.

After all, to “resolve” is to ‘decide firmly on a course of action’ and, thinking about it at length, I realized there was very little that would cause me to firmly commit to a course of action, save a few personal business ideas I have been mulling over.

Also, ‘New Year’s resolutions’ are meant to be silly and breezy – at least everyone else’s seem to be. So the only resolutions worth considering are sartorial ones, and given that I spend an inordinate amount of time reading, writing, window-shopping, reviewing, admiring, lusting and dreaming about all things sartorial, it’s clearly an area in which I can make some sensible changes and some firm commitments.

Well, firm-ish.

1. Steadily build my suit collection with MTM and (maybe) bespoke

The suit is king, long live the suit.

Not only do I need good suits for work, I also enjoy wearing them more than any other clothing. It’s a point of mystery to me that many others take no pleasure, or pride, in acquiring and wearing suits.

It’s true that I used to advocate a more substantial collection of odd jackets, trousers and waistcoats. There is no doubt these are useful, but purchasing a three-piece suit gives you all the elements in a single package that, when combined, is the apogee of elegant masculinity.

On the cards: a dark grey flannel three piece for winter and a dark blue linen three piece for summer.

2. Tailor all of my favourite trousers

I have several pairs of trousers that I love wearing, but are slightly off in some way. I have lost weight over the past year, so many are too generous in the waist and thigh. Also, some of the legs do not have the exact taper I would like, and I always feel slightly incomplete when I wear them. Having recently had a pair of suit trousers slimmed and tapered, I have resolved to take the plunge and have all my favourite trousers (including some daring ones in black velvet) tailored.

This improvement to my wardrobe will also mean that I have more reason to…

3. Avoid impulse purchases

It’s long been a part of my philosophy to value quantity as well as quality of clothing. I love variety and feel somewhat dejected at the thought of wearing the same outfit twice. I am therefore what I would charitably term a “good shopper.”

However, this singular fondness has often led to wastefulness; silly items I have worn but a few times. No more, I tell you, no more.

4. Only buy ties on eBay

This is a bit of a cheat resolution as I have long resorted to online auctions for second-hand silk and wool ties.

The reasons are simple; I prefer older silk, I prefer older patterns and they are exceptional value for money. There are some lovely new ties out there, particularly those by Drakes and Ralph Lauren, but they are ludicrously expensive by comparison.

5. Make more significant investments

There are a number of things I should spend more money on, a few key pieces for which I should opt for a little more quality and durability, not just style. I have a habit of choosing on the latter alone.

However, there are some things I am looking for – a good Panama hat, a more capacious washbag – that require more than prettiness. They are long-term pieces for the next decade or so, not fly-by-night fashion.

Hrothgar Stibbon Briefcase Review

I have long needed a new briefcase. My old, tanned leather case “Brian” (so named because of my incorrigible fetish for alliteration) had put in a good shift, but long shown signs of serious fatigue.

A Frenchman by birth, he was no doubt shocked by the appalling English weather. His soft sides were tearing at the seams; his supple and all-too-delicate skin was deteriorating. To look at him had become distressing.

Much like a woman ceases to be fulfilled by the gifts of a ‘boy’ and goes off in search of a ‘man’, I realized it was time to invest in a sturdy, bridle leather briefcase. No offence, Brian.

The choices for such requirements are, even in London, rather limited. The one name that dominates in this regard is the house of Swaine Adeney Brigg, supplier of fine leather goods and official supplier to the umbrella stands of Clarence House. Their briefcases are very handsome and very sturdy – but they are not inexpensive.

Of course, they are not cheaply made. And the grade of leather used is of excellent quality. But for a substantial case you are looking at a price point of £1000-£1,500. This is not so bad in the grand scheme of things. Women’s handbags often change hands for double this price using leather of half the quality.

And when you look around at the alternatives such as Glenroyal or Marcellino, you would be forgiven for resigning to such an investment.

However, I was determined to continue searching.

In my search I came across a leather craft brand called Hrothgar Stibbon, who have been making leather goods in Bristol for over 20 years. Visiting the website, I was immediately taken by the description of their values:

“…pride is taken by us in using English bridle leather from Britain’s last remaining oak bark tanner. It takes over a year to transform raw hide into finished bridle leather.”

They have a large range of shoulder bags, most of which appear eminently appropriate for the shooting fraternity and, given that it is “heavily oiled and waxed for water resistance and strength”, imply a leather product that is designed to withstand the great outdoors – not just the cloakroom of a cocktail lounge or the backseat of a London taxi.

There is a satchel, called the Bristol, and two briefcases: the Salisbury and the Winchester. Both of these are made in traditional English (Devonshire) vegetable tanned bridle leather with pig skin interiors and solid brass fittings and rivets of brass plated steel.

I favoured the Winchester for it’s handsome closure straps with brass buckles – a little more interesting and youthful than the Salisbury. The Winchester is also more appealing as it has twin compartments (Salisbury has one). The designs are available in three colours: Black, Havana (a mushroom brown) and Chestnut (a reddish-brown).

I have always had brown briefcases. There is a great deal more to a brown case’s patina and character than black, which I find too severe and morbidly Victorian. A bright brown is also more versatile, as it is more adaptable to wear with various suit and shoe colours.

Therefore, I made an enquiry about the Chestnut Winchester. Unfortunately, Hrothgar (Roth) had to break it to me that he was phasing out this particular colour as it arrives from the Baker tannery a different tone each time, making it hard to maintain consistency. Instead, he offered me two colours from J&E Sedgwick’s tannery; a dark brown called Conker and and warm, fiery brown called Hazel, of which I chose the latter.

I also asked Roth to put my initials on the front of the case to personalize the commission (all bags are made to order) which required the Hrothgar Stibbon logo to move to the bottom of the back of the briefcase.

The result is extremely pleasing. It is one of the finest briefcases I have ever seen. The earthy reek of the tanned leather is intoxicating, the thick bridle handle feels as substantial as a knocker on a castle gate and the brass Cheney lock is of the standard you would expect on models three or four times the price. It is a Rolls Royce of a briefcase, the sort of thing you imagine gleaming in the windows of the emporiums of the grand arcades in Mayfair.

There is so much to admire in the craft and simple material beauty of the product. I love the subtle tooling on the tabs keeping the handle attached to the case, the thickness of the canvas strap, the soft pigskin interior, the stitching around the lock and the little lozenge of leather with my initials.

The most wonderful thing is that this fine piece of leathercraft, made in England by a master craftsman using his own bare hands (and some hefty tools), is also fair value. The price for this case, without the initials on the front, comes in at a gentle but reassuring £299, which is but a fraction of the cost of some cases made by the more vaunted and celebrated names – but which show little to no superiority in craftsman standards or quality of material.

The one downside for potential customers is that Hrothgar Stibbon is an online-only business. This is, admittedly, a double-edged sword; the overheads are minimized which enables the prices to remain highly competitive, but on the other hand, potential customers have no way of seeing (and touching) the product before they buy. Instead they will have to take Roth (and me) at our word. I for one am very glad I took the plunge.


Punching Up in Party Season


Hold onto your hats; party season is here once again.

Between the middle of December and the first birdsong of the New Year, the world turns into an alcoholic, tinsel-and-firework merry-go-round, wringing out the remainder of our leftover greed, wantonness and impropriety. I have only one Christmas party to go to but one acquaintance of mine has three work-related functions to attend; “One’s a divisional thing, the other’s a group company party” And what’s the third? “Oh. I’ve got an invite to the girlfriend’s work ball – can’t be bothered to go.”

It’s a shame that we get so used to such things, we never learn to appreciate them sufficiently in the moment. Life, after all, is about contribution and being part of something greater than mere survival. Being invited to balls and parties should excite us; fill us with that keen sense of anticipation.

It should also fill us with inspiration – and not lead us into the temptation of skimping on a black tie ensemble by wearing a dark grey lounge suit with a clip-on poly bow tie.

I received a frantic missive from a chum recently, asking me how to dress for a ‘terrifyingly trendy fashionista party’, set to take place in a glittering ballroom in one of Mayfair’s grand dame palace hotels. He had a grosgrain silk bow tie and Marcella cotton shirt but what could else he possibly wear to cut a dash and avoid looking like the rest of the rent-a-tux crowd?

The Jacket

I would recommend a velvet smoking jacket style.

Ultra-traditionalists would sniff that this is ‘normally only to be worn in your own residence’ and is not appropriate for an ‘out of home’ black tie function, particularly balls.

Well, balls to that.

It’s difficult to cut a head-turning dash as a chap without looking a little unconventional on such occasions. And given that female fashion has long dispensed with the length requirements dictated for ballgowns, to shun a fabric like velvet, that catches the season’s aesthetic so wonderfully, is frankly silly.

I would opt for a colour rather than black velvet, due to the fact that coloured velvet is infinitely better at reflecting light. Burgundy is elegant, if a little old school, bottle green is currently trending, although not for the light hearted, but the ultimate in sleek smoking chic this season is, perhaps unexpectedly, brown.

In certain light it has a warm, chocolate tone that contrasts deliciously with the cool, crisp white of a starched shirt-front. Black bow ties appear more authoritative next to it and it has an old-world, distinguished charm to it, like a fading label on a great Bordeaux. Or Robert Redford.

Suit Supply and Gieves & Hawkes both have excellent shawl-collared, one-button options available, with black silk-faced lapels and jetted pockets. Paul Stuart Phineas Cole has an all-brown option, with brown-grosgrain peak lapels.

The Trousers

Given the slightly outré jacket suggestion, one might expect me to suggest sober, black Barathea trousers.

These would certainly work very well, however, black Barathea has never really made much of a statement. It fades into the background (quite by design) and, on this occasion, is only for the unimaginative.

You could go all brown velvet like Lapo Elkann. However, velvet suits make me think of Austin Powers.

Instead, I would either recommend black silk trousers, the shine contrasting with the lush matte of the velvet pile, or – if you are feeling brave (and Tom Ford circa 2010) enough – some tartan trousers, with a Scandinavian uber-taper at the ankles. Hackett have some options to oblige.

The Shoes

I always favour patent Oxfords or opera pumps, but this is a look that deserves something a little more dangerous, like Paul Stuart Phineas Cole’s houndstooth evening slippers.

If these go too far, perhaps a plain pair of black, Albert velvet slippers from Brooks Brothers would be more approachable.

Anything other than evening slippers or pumps in this ensemble adds unnecessary ‘clump.’

The other essentials

The usual routine; shirt studs, black silk socks, and a black silk cummerbund. Add a pocket square if you feel it is needed, but keep it fairly conservative. Remember, keeping the small things trad lets the big things go mad.

Sharp & Dapper Shirt Stays

They say that necessity is the mother of invention.

However, in the modern age I find that the opposite is often true.

There are so many products that create problems in order to sell solutions. Like the myriad bathroom cleaners that profess a singular, unique purpose – when a basic, multi-purpose bleach would often suffice.

There are widgets, bobbits and all manner of tools that purport an essential need; ‘invent today and find the need tomorrow’ seems to be the motto.

However, there are some problems of great irritation that I have wished some mind far greater than mine could attend to.

Ironing has always irked me. It is a chore, the technology for which has barely progressed in half a century. It seems ridiculous in this day and age that we still need to unfold a board, plug in an electronic steam-device and slide it back and forth across a shirt to make it presentable.

In fact, shirts in general are rather annoying.

I like them, of course. But they have a nasty habit of misbehaving.

In the course of a day, I often find even my made to measure shirts not staying where they are meant to be; tucked in my trousers with a smooth front up to my collar. It might sound like Leyendecker idealism, but it always struck me as rather irksome that even a well-starched cotton shirt must crumple so much in an ensemble.

And so when I was presented with the option of ‘shirt stays’ from Sharp & Dapper, I was titillated. Finally, here was a product which sought to govern the ungovernable, twofold. For not only is this product designed to pull on one’s shirt tails to create that smooth-as-a-board effect, it also pulls up one’s socks at the same time.

Of course, theory is all very well but it achieves nothing. Trial is essential to make an idea an invention, and so recently, I set about testing it.

The first step is to attach the elasticated straps to the bottom of your shirt or, if you choose, to the top of your socks.

I chose the socks first and found it rather tricky as I was wearing a thick-ish pair of Uniqlo winter socks rather than a pair of fine merino socks. Essentially, you need to push a bit of rubber inside the top of the sock to create a lump and secure the metal latch over this lump, so that it safely grips the material.

Next, I attached the other end of the strap to the bottom of the shirt front, which was far easier due to the thinness of the shirt material. I repeated the process with the three remaining straps, attaching two to the shirt front and two to the shirt rear.

The sensation is, initially, bizarre. The elastic straps are alarmingly effective and require getting used to. I was very, very aware that I was wearing them, even when I tried on trousers afterwards. However, I have been reliably informed that the unfamiliarity of this sensation passes with regular use.

The best thing is that even a fitted shirt could be improved by its use. It pulled down on the tails, creating a smooth finish across the front that would have been welcome on many formal occasions in memory.

I find it would be particularly useful for black tie, given the use of low waistcoats and the desirability of an entirely smooth front, as well as the proliferation of black silk socks – which have a nasty habit of not remaining on the calves but slinking down to the ankles.


Why I Won’t Suit The New iPhone

I’m a big fan of the iPhone.

(And no, Apple haven’t sponsored this post.)

It’s so pretty. So well formed. So smooth. So useful. So reassuringly solid.

I am not, however, a fan of the iPhone 6. And the less said of its gargantuan, plus-sized sibling the better.

The implied philosophy that ‘size matters’ is not incorrect. It does. Unfortunately, it counts in the wrong places as well as the right ones.

For as thin as the objects may be, their surface area still makes a substantial impact.

Though many have long complained about the ‘tiny’ screens on iPhones when compared to other brand’s models, I have been quite satisfied with a mere 4 inches. And so have my inside jacket pockets.

I am not one of those who finds it convenient to keep my phone in my bag, nor do I like keeping it in external pockets – as they too often get doused by one of London’s stranger varieties of rainshower.

The driest, and most convenient place, to keep my precious phone is in the inner chest pocket of the suits and blazers I wear on a daily basis. This allows for easy access in the event of answering and making calls, controlling the music selection when headphones are attached and feeling the phone vibrating with an alert.

So far, the Apple iPhone has been of a size that has a low impact on the line of a gentleman’s jacket. Even those items that are finely tailored don’t show a hint of the famous ‘rectangle with rounded corners.’ For those like me that prefer to wear slim fitting jackets, this design discreteness has been a godsend. And other style-minded chaps seem to agree. It takes no genius perusing Pinterest to see that the iPhone is probably the most used phone at Pitti Uomo.

However, it should come as no surprise that we weren’t really meant to walk around with tiny computers suspended next to our bosoms. And the suit, evergreen as it might be in terms of style, was never designed for this purpose either.

And though the inside chest pocket is less revealing than others of its content (largely due to the canvas), a large object (in length and width) does something rather criminal to the beautiful shape of a jacket’s chest. I tried to put an acquaintance’s 6 Plus into my bespoke chalk stripe: “It won’t fit” I said “Ah. Is the pocket too narrow?” they asked “No. The phone’s too big. The pocket is the correct size for the suit.”

Then, another offered up to try the 6 instead. It slipped inside the pocket easily enough. I buttoned it up and looked in front of the mirror. Though the lump itself was shallow, it made such an impact on the silhouette of the suit that it looked as though I was carrying the Holy Bible.

Unlike gentlemen’s accessories of the past such as the hip flask or cigarette case, these supersized phones have not been designed with a sartorial mind.

The solution that most suggest, particularly the tailors, is to engineer around it. Some have created special smart phone pockets, sized accordingly, and many have relocated these lining pockets to the lower half of the jacket to reduce the effect on the shape of the jacket.

Of course, this has a hefty cost implication for existing clothes – and the results aren’t always flawless. It’s also dashed inconvenient to have the phone flapping about down near the jacket hem rather than in easy reach.

Size does matter. But so does elegance.