Jeans With A Blazer

A cousin of mine once descended the stairs at the student house in which he lived to smirks and guffaws from his friends who had been impatiently awaiting his arrival, regularly yelling at full, ear splitting volume. They stood confidently, arms folded at the bottom of the stairs; “What the hell is that?” one of them exclaimed. It was not an awkward stain, a rogue dash of unworked hair gel, an unzipped fly or any other form of unintentional embarrassment. And it was not a lack of coordination that so tickled them; it was more the particular coordination he had chosen. “Jeans and a blazer!” they chanted in a mocking, hooligan fashion as they followed behind us in the street. Banter for sure, and my cousin was sufficiently unmoved for it to remain as harmless as that, but it’s remarkable how things change.

I saw recently one of the friends just north of Mayfair on one of my recent button-finding expeditions. Had it not been for my good recollection of faces, I might have missed him, for there he was, pacing down the street as happy as a clam in what else? Jeans and a blazer. I remarked to him that it was an interesting choice of outfit, considering the dislike for the combination he exhibited some years ago. He avoided a response very well, but there was no possible excuse; years ago, he had mocked the very idea of it (and there are many who still would) but now, the combination is everywhere. He, naturally, has fallen for peer pressure once more. It happens, of course, there is no doubt about it – “Don’t laugh, you’ll be wearing it soon” is a weary line, so frequently used but with good reason: men particularly have a tendency to ‘keep in line.’

The horror about ‘jeans and a blazer’ is that they are frequently worn so badly. Think what you like about the appropriateness of the blend, if it must be done it must surely be done well. Boot cut, grungy and baggy jeans with torn bottoms are a disastrous start. The number of times I have seen perky, cocksure young chaps in a smart jacket and such awful jeans cannot be counted; the combination needs help and such a careless approach needs banishment. Jeans are not there to drag the jacket to their level, jeans should be as the long-misbehaving best man at the wedding; improved for the occasion. They shouldn’t act as ‘mock trousers’ – a pair of jeans should always be a pair of jeans, but they should not contradict the aesthetic of the jacket.
And mocking doesn’t always produce the best results. Some of the best J&B combinations I have seen involved jeans of a washed, light blue denim that most would shun in favour of darker supposedly more ‘sophisticated’ hues.

The most important thing, in my opinion, is that the jeans must be balanced; neither rigid nor sloppy. The ‘balanced fit’ comes from a pair of jeans that correspond to the wearers preferred tightness and length but that are ever so lightly restrained in this regard due to the presence of the jacket. Leaving folds and folds of denim at the bottom looks wrong. From the picture above, I guessed that Daniel Craig’s combination probably ends said ugly folds and even clumpy shoes, whereas the ideal ‘finish’ to the jeans would be a relatively narrow leg and youthful slip-ons. The length should be somewhere between that of a smart trouser and that of a more casual pair of jeans. I prefer jeans to be unrumpled at the bottom, but sometimes with a jacket they look rather too trouser-like and I tend to leave a small amount of contrived ‘turn up’ to distinguish them as jeans. The other option that works wonderfully well is to wear jeans that hang well above the shoe, exposing ankle. This works best if one wears loafers (the lower profile is more flattering) and if one goes sockless. Straight fit jeans are probably the best choice.

Likewise, the jacket must not conflict with the denim. If jeans are preferred to be worn lower than the waist, shorter jackets should be shunned; the excess jean material and off-buttock pockets look awkward. Also, jackets with that particular suit ‘sheen’ look entirely out of place unless they happen to be counteracted with considerable accessorising skill. Navy, charcoal and browns in matt cottons and wool work best as companions to denim.

Style Icon: Thomas Crown

I was written to recently by a young man who had become interested in my blog but, due to his own admittance of his naivety and insecurity, was unsure that he would represent himself well in, as he put it, such ‘frilly, theatrical garb.’ He was, he wrote, ‘more concerned about what people think…’ Instead of providing what would have been a knee jerk response, damning his insecurity, slapping his proverbial back and sending him off in the direction of ‘frilly’ retailers, I considered his position from his point of view; a young man tired of the graffiti-trends of his peers, hateful of hoodies, tired of trainers he is evidently trying to mature his wardrobe. The difficulty being that many bloggers tend to be altogether too affected, too dandy or absurdly avant-garde – he cited one who chose to wear women’s heels and handbags – to inspire such a cautious self-improver.

Fortunately there are, I informed him, more influences than self-photographing self-promoters. Of course, for such a youthful, inexperienced upgrader, some alternative sources of influence will doubtless prove too far fetched – pointing him in the way of flower beds for colour coordination, though valid, is likely to perplex rather than enthuse. Seeking heroes of style in popular culture is a common refuge for the uncertain and cinema is a glorious medium; beginners and sartorial ‘professors’ alike gaze at the screen, following attractively dressed characters, storing imagery in their minds and pondering a little plagiarism.

Thomas Crown, a character originally brought to the screen by Steve McQueen, is considered something of a style icon, as much for his adaptability and ‘Modern man’ mantle as his sharp tailoring. Even the Crown in the Pierce Brosnan remake is applauded for exuding a deep, Everyman quality – Brosnan is as at ease in the air-conditioned boardroom in tailored wool as he is, linen shirted, watching the sunset from his Caribbean hideaway. He carries the viewer through Bond-like fantasies of tailoring, the cameras gorging on Turnbull & Asser shirts and ties and Gianni Campagna suits. Never over or underdone, the combinations emphasise the importance of simplicity and fit – a Brummellian manifesto – above all else.

These elegantly uncomplicated ensembles mirror the extraordinary knack McQueen’s Crown exhibited for not dressing up, or dressing down, but simply dressing well. Colours may tend to be minimalist, suits traditionalist (but hardly basic) and ties ‘uniform’ but what is remarkable is that on my last viewings of the original and the Brosnan update, the beautifully attired Mr Crown had aged little since the films were released. Others more in sway to the ‘fashions’ of the periods look decidedly dated.

The lesson to inquisitive but nervous improvers, intent on discarding the present uniforms of inelegance is simple; an upgrade of material and of shape, an embracement of maturity and felicitousness. Crown is no fake – heavily ironic considering his duplicity – when it comes to dress; his style is no ‘bullet proof’ armour or pomp of a parvenu. It is a symbol of his taste, success and earned position. It looks as it should always look: entirely natural.

Briefcase Worry

Oh dear. Poor Bob Quick. The former ‘terror chief’, a title that has a grim, Orwellian ring to it, was so hand-on-face embarrassed by his blunder (for those unaware, Quick climbed out of a car to attend a meeting in Downing Street, brandishing classified documents in front of many-megapixeled press photographers) that his resignation offer was instantaneous and, though speedy resignation was criticised by some, the magnitude of that single gaffe was too great to ignore. As The Sun wrote; “You can’t quit quicker than a thick Quick quitter.” His career is far from over though. He might go on, as some predict, to become a security consultant with a foreign police force, advising them on matters in which he has proven expertise; anti-terror strategies, organisation and, er, maintenance of confidentiality. The question that remains is; what on earth was that document doing out of a secure, locked case?

It is widely acknowledged that times are tough, but surely a senior officer in the Metropolitan Police can afford a simple and functional briefcase? Even in the days before PIN codes, electronic lock systems and ultra-focus cameras, those in command of sensitive information took the use of portable containment of such information seriously. After all, even the budget – a collection of dull, factual documents and a speech that challenges the meaning of verbosity – is contained within a bright red, locked briefcase. Quite simply, government documents should always be concealed in the interests of security.

However, Quick’s slack is no isolated incident. A colleague I encountered in the elevator gripped work papers in his hands as his rucksack, he chuckled, was ‘too small’; one gentleman I saw on Fleet Street carried their papers, lunch and mobile phone (all evidently visible) in a disposable carrier bag. What is the matter? Are people not interested in carrying documents in secure cases any longer? Are the briefcase, the folio and folder simply without appeal? For they are hardly without function or merit.

I actually like the feeling of carrying my briefcase around. I see it not as a burden, but as a reminder, a conscience if you will; as long as I know it is there, I know all the constituent parts of my existence that I have come to rely on, are safe and secure. I know the alien feeling when it is not in my hand, I know the strange, unfamiliar lightness when an item has been removed. It might begin as an awkward, unwanted nuisance but it rapidly becomes a part of you; documents come and go, the only certainty is the case they are carried in.

Smart leather cases are not high priced luxuries either – a case of high quality can be had for a very reasonable sum. Barbour, a brand which might appeal to the country-connected, hardy readers, manufactures an honest briefcase of an attractively simple design in brown leather, currently on sale for £122 at John Lewis. If conference portfolios are more attractive a prospect, Aspinal manufacture wonderful leather A4 folios in a number of colours, one of the most fetching is the Amazon Brown Croc, and retail at £175. Suede lined, with pockets for pens and mobiles, it’s perfect for the man who requires privacy without the superfluous capacity offered in a traditional briefcase. Their leather document envelopes offer the perfect solution for occasions on which carrying a briefcase is unnecessary, and are very reasonable at £125. Perhaps the new ‘terror chief’ will be pondering a purchase.

King Of The Dock: Sebago Docksides

Of all the things said about the classic Sebago Dockside deck shoe, frequently casually referred to as ‘Docksiders’, very rarely is it said what a wonderful aesthetic they have. The glowing reports of owners of Docksides are full of meaty, practical words like ‘reliable’, ‘trustworthy’ and ‘comfortable’; the sort of words you associate with a disingenuous advertisement for retail banking. Naturally, they are one of the most favoured shoes of genuine ‘docksiders’ – the sort of men who can tie forty-six kinds of knot, chew tobacco and have rough faces, etched by the salt winds of the ocean. But to me, they have an appealing profile, a modest but pleasant ‘decoration’ – coloured laces – and come in an attractive range of colours. I also love the white sole.

On a recent visit to Sweden, to the west coast city of Gothenburg a friend there informed me as I handled a navy blue pair in the emporium NK, ‘These are typically Swedish, everyone here has these.’ Although this did not appear to be true – in fact I saw very few Docksides on my visit (perhaps it was the temperature as Scandinavia is still quite chilly) – many Swedes would have cause to wear them, for come spring and summer, boating plays a significant part in the lives of those on the west and east coasts. Small, medium and large vessels make their way to the islands in and around the two major cities manned by knot-knowledged Scandinavians, dutifully wearing white soled welted deck shoes.

For as pretty as the white sole is, it is also practical; no one wants a dark, grubby mark left by a sliding rubber shoe on the otherwise pristine deck. Sebago Docksides are also famed for being highly resistant to water and having a sole tread that provides sufficient grip, without compromising on weight and manoeuvrability – or on design. They also look fantastic when miles away from sloshing water, shining teak and salty air. They are currently having something of a ‘moment’ in the fashion world, inspiring imagination-fuelled designers to conjure patent leather models, unusual colour combinations and contrast stitching. Vane of New York City has produced some interesting models in cooperation with Sebago, the most interesting being the dark, red-laced ‘Olympian’, the most dowdy being the grey and white ‘Clubhouse’ and the most tongue-in-cheek being the black, patent ‘Tuxedo.’ The success of the experimentation is mixed, but I think the variations offered by Sebago themselves should satisfy most.

In fact, I would go so far as to say you can forego all other models for the Navy, or Blue Nite; the deep blue, the contrast white laces and stitching - and the classic white sole. It is rare that I am so inclined to advocate simplicity, especially when some of the charming combinations offered by Sebago are slightly more recherché, more discerning, but rather like the selection of plain Wayfarers over newer, brasher variations, this is a case when, for me personally, unfussiness wins overall. Match them with some slim fitting deep blue jeans – swinging at a height above the top of the shoe, exposing a very little ankle – a sky blue shirt, cream heavy knit cardigan and perhaps even an in-trend polka dot bow tie.

Pet Peeves

”There’s nowt so queer as folk” they say. I would disagree – “There’s nowt so queer as trends” I would riposte. For some trends are so inexplicably unattractive, so incredibly low on aesthetic value or grace that their existence is physically shocking. I last wrote of my sartorial prejudice in relation to summer clothing; this ‘outing’ of personal taste (and indeed distaste) has no excuse. It is an outburst, a volcanic eruption, likely caused by the bottling of emotions; bottle and carry anything effervescent around for long enough and it tends to explode.

Low slung jeans

I was launched into a state of exasperation and despair when I happened to see a considerable number of young men walking around with their jeans secured (barely) not at their waist, or even their hips or even halfway down their buttocks but at the very top of their thighs; the effect was that virtually all of their underwear was visible to any person walking behind them, especially when walking up the stairs. The jeans themselves are generally denim of an ordinary blue but, due to their odious wearing position, are utterly shapeless and overly full. They make the wearer look slovenly, even though he is likely to have taken considerable pains to maintain the jeans at this position and even more pains to keep his snow-white training shoes ‘splash free.’ The worst thing, a complete reversal of the logic of fashion, occurred when I saw one of the young men, self-conscious about the height of his jeans compared to his companions, push them down further – such conscious effort to make oneself look like public masturbator! Bizarre.

Puffa jackets

If there is one thing I can credit myself with, maturing from the age of brand-lust and trend obsession, it is that I finally began to recognise the importance of shape and silhouette. Puffa jackets are an abomination; the notion of wearing an overstuffed duvet has long baffled me. I do acknowledge that there is a practical purpose to filling the interior of a coat with goose down, but there are more elegant and better-looking ways of keeping the cold away. The lumpy puffa, with the squeaking sleeves, is one of the most disappointing sights; that it covers a human torso, a design of nature that should be accentuated and complemented, is a tragedy.

Trucker caps

Trucker caps, which an acquaintance names as “white trash toppers”, are one of the most irritating trends ever to dominate the accessories departments of clothing stores; that there are scores of better designed items of headgear, from talented, dedicated and tasteful milliners, that have never received the reassuring popularity of the humble baseball cap is bad enough but that the bastard child of the classic baseball cap the ‘trucker’ should figure so prominently, under tiresome, drolly named brands like Von Dutch is frankly mindboggling. The aesthetic itself is cheap and greasy and the value added to any ensemble is at most infinitesimal; but that we have come to this, the wilful worship of trashy personalities who pair overtly expensive French luggage brands with such fripperies of the most meagre irony is far more worrying.