Coloured Socks

As I was hurriedly dashing to and fro on a recent afternoon, negotiating my way through armies of tourists on the little side streets of the West End, I spotted a smartly dressed man reclining in his aluminium chair outside a particularly insalubrious looking establishment in Soho. A coffee cup, stained and empty, sat on the table in front of him and he had affected the position of reverie; leaning back into his chair, his legs crossed at the knee and his head thrown back against the top of the chair providing him with a view of a changing sky and the grotty upper floors of unkempt London buildings.

I noticed particularly a colourful item of clothing he happened to be wearing. It was not his thick, golden silk tie or his bright pink linen pocket square. Nor was it his cool navy linen blazer that was draped artfully over his shoulders. It was his pair of emerald green socks that shined with magnificent phosphorescence next to his burnished walnut brogues. This image of green clad ankles was vividly arresting. I would soon encounter other gentleman, of little note sartorially speaking, whose ankles were clad in more predictable blacks and dark greys and since I had seen two of the most resplendent and well-decorated ankles in London, it was all rather dull. I came to the conclusion that coloured socks are not only acceptable, but actually preferable; if the occasion allows it, a colourful flash of lower-leg is dazzling.

Red

It is not unusual to see gentlemen, particularly well-dressed elderly gentleman, wearing burgundy socks. They are commonly found amongst the post-prandial recliners in the libraries of Pall Mall clubs, worn with a conservative charcoal chalkstripe and chocolate Oxfords. However, I have also seen blood red socks worn, rather nattily, with seersucker suits and also with washed denim; the dramatic red draws the eyes to the ankles. It’s chic but also rather daring.

Golden yellow

I happened to be tuning in to the opinions of a former Prime Minister and, whilst he was not by any means remarkable in dress, his socks – of a rich, golden yellow colour normally seen on Van Gogh paintings – were outstanding. Whilst red is eyecatching and a little cavalier, golden yellow seems to convey an aristocratic superiority, particularly when worn with blue or navy suits. A man’s ankles are glorified in such manacles of gilt; putting one in mind of the gleaming sandles of the messenger of the gods, Hermes.

Sky blue and purple


Of the trio of colours suggested, sky blue is certainly the more restrained. However, such a colour still looks magnificent with white buck shoes and a khaki coloured linen suit for more casual, leisure oriented days. It is certainly a spring and summer colour of sock, reflecting the glorious azure of a warm afternoon sky. Winter greys, dark browns and blacks do not flatter these socks; they look a little lost amongst the gloom. However, a winter equivalent might be a glorious lilac or purple, both of which look absolutely regal with a wide pinstripe navy suit.

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‘Would I Look Good in This?’

One of the things I am always aware of, being overly concerned with my appearance and wardrobe, is my ability – or indeed, inability as the case may be – to vary personal style. It’s certainly a good thing to have what one might refer to as a ‘uniform’; a safe combination of shirt, jacket, tie, trouser and shoe that you can always rely on but the risk with such uniformity is that you tend to avoid experimentation – as well as risking the affliction of peace of mind with sartorial boredom.

Many people are capable of identifying themselves with a particular mode or style: “It’s nice but it’s just not me…”, “I’d love to be able to wear that, but I have my way of doing things.” They appear content in the knowledge that contentment is illusory; after all, we’d all love to be able to do many things. I wouldn’t mind winning Wimbledon or discovering the cure for a widespread disease but I recognise my own limitations and the fact that those things are not going to happen is something I accept.

And the grass, so they say, is generally greener on the other side of the fence. Whilst the public lavish attention and adoration on the celebrity, the celebrity constantly seeks the shade, the private life; unable to comprehend the desire the anonymous have for a life in the bright lights of fame. A man of considerable style might pace the streets with apparent confidence but a glance in the direction of an alternatively attired chap might set the wheels of his mind whirring for the possibility of change.

In style, confidence and self-security are vital components. Without them the supposed man of style is a poseur and pretender; a charlatan who hasn’t conquered the infuriating tendency of fashionistas to tinker and tamper. However, it must also be recognised that the very essence of personal style is self-discovery. Experimentation and dabbling are important aspects of this discovery – the man of one suit might not lack funds, but imagination.

Maturation also plays a role. Roger Federer admitted he was always the shy teenager, forever in sports clothing, until he grew into his hidden passion for clothing, making friends with the movers and shakers of the New York fashion set, revealing his ‘embarrassing’ joy in shopping for clothes. Many men go through this period, some earlier than others, and some enter it without realising quite what they are letting themselves in for.

I believe in the idea of personal style; I believe it is detectable and identifiable. Or at least it should be. My fear of remaining too ‘uniform’ is a symptom of my interest in fashion. I am confident in the clothes I wear, and the clothes I choose to buy, but I am often afraid that I am only touching a percentage of the ‘style’ that is available to embrace. I fear that the ‘uniform’ has become my identity; someone recently complimented me on my usefulness in emotional situations as I always decorated my jacket pocket with a silk square. I was somewhat nonplussed. The very idea of predictability can either crack sartorial confidence, or it can strengthen and galvanise.

Naturally confident, even arrogant individuals will see this as an acknowledgment of their signature; Lagerfeld for example would have no problem in being identified as the monochrome man. However, this places external recognition and honour at the heart of one’s style and that can never do; if you dress for someone other than yourself, it is strikingly obvious that you are doing so.

I think the fear of wanting something that you do not have and being someone you are not is pointless; no collection, no matter how large, is ever complete or the owner satisfied. Imelda Marcos is an illustration, albeit an extreme one, of the minutiae in differentiation the collector can note. Such a collector never stops wanting what they do not have and acknowledging that weakness is important; ‘travelling’ in all it’s forms is a favourite pastime of the human being and we never seem to tire of it. The evolution of your wardrobe is just as remarkable as the evolution of your personality and at times, one often reflects the other.

The personal desire of variety is natural and, though I have issued rather stiff words on ‘confidence in personal style’ and written on achieving a peace with your own gut-understanding of ‘what style means to you’, the reality is that curiosity, though it has been distributed in different quantities, is in all of us.

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The Garment Bag

On a recent business trip, as I wandered past the hoards of travellers, waiting to collect their cases at the carousel I closed my eyes in relief that I had packed a bag small enough to be placed in the overhead locker. I also congratulated myself, modestly, in choosing to wear the one suit that I would need. It would have been quite impossible to squeeze it into my Gladstone travel bag.

On that occasion, I had no need for further luggage. However, there will be occasions on which I will need more room to store the travelling items of my wardrobe. And, despite there being the option of laundry and dry cleaning at the destination, I would rather I save the cost and inconvenience by packing correctly.

Folding jackets and trousers is a tricky business and having looked into crease and wrinkle free folding methods in some detail I realised that there is no foolproof process; I always seem to cause abuse.

The rucksack is certainly the most important item of luggage for the backpacking tourist and many women cite the vanity case as their most treasured item. For the gentleman of style, the garment or suit carrier must rank as one of, if not the most important item of luggage. Jackets and trousers are placed securely inside, zipped up and folded over for carrying. A simple process, but such a vital one. The carrier is also compact and adaptable enough to push through the security scanners at even the most Draconian of international airports, favourable for the business traveller disinclined to see their precious garments disappear into the unseen and unknown of the luggage hold.

And keeping such garments close at hand is perfectly logical; a suit is often the most expensive item in a gentleman’s luggage, unless you happen to be a Berluti or Lobb aficionado, and it’s natural to keep such valued items at your side. The only thing is, the bag must be worthy of the suit; no fine threads should be carried in something that squeaks and rustles. Leather carriers are popular. They age exceptionally well and they offer more than adequate protection for fine cloths. However, some might find them a little heavy and if you’re carrying more than one suit, this can be a problem with those carting significant amounts of hand luggage.

Canvas carriers look very smart and have the added advantage of being waterproof (or at least water resistant); vital for those visiting less clement parts of the world. They are also lighter than all-leather bags and, due to the leather on canvas bags being small in area and merely decorative albeit marginally protective, they are consequently less expensive. However not all canvas bags are hard wearing and considering the significant ‘wear and tear’ involved with travelling, a bag should be selected with careful consideration of the quality of materials involved.

Pickett, Aspinal, Brics and Tumi manufacture high quality garment bags that will last for many years in high quality canvases and leather. Vuitton, though it hardly needs mention, also manufacture suit carriers – some of which can carry up to five suits at once – although they are considerably more expensive and it is advisable to avoid the ubiquitous Monogram and Damier canvases.

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My Favourite Things: A Look Forward to Spring 2009

I have never been an advocate for fashion slavery. Fashion can be quirky and surprising, even delightful but it’s an expensive pursuit for one to follow religiously. It also has the disadvantage of lacking permanence; the essence of fashion is that reliance on the idea of perpetual transition, continual evolution.

However, while I have long been a supporter of ‘sartorial allotments’; building and cultivating a long lasting personal style, fashion cycles are pleasantly diverting.
I was rather pleasantly surprised by some of the offerings at the Spring 2009 collections. There was a good deal of the yawn-factor; muted tones on tones, an overkill of chic-bohemia but there were some particularly pleasant individual ensembles and some aesthetically charming pairings.

Burberry Prorsum: Linen & Polish

The appeal of linen, about which I have written at length, is evident here and accentuated by the glorious colour and polish of the footwear. The contrast in texture and the aesthetic cut of the trousers is particularly appealing but the marriage of the shoe and the trouser is the real magic; fresh but somehow remarkably traditional.

Linen trousers are hardly anything new but most chaps wear them very casually – even unironed. Secondly, they are often worn with careless and dreary examples of footwear; this combination shows how outstanding a casual summer trouser can look.

Bottega Veneta: Neckscarves

The neckscarf is an excellent accessory for spring and summer; a dab of colour, a little formality, whimsy and, importantly, balance for ensembles. Some might view it as a little too ‘dandy’ and affected, but these examples from Bottega Veneta show how a rather ordinary outfit can be lifted by a little colour and pattern around the neck. The retro check is particularly attractive.

The Double Breasted Jacket

This appears to be making a comeback and it’s certainly long overdue. A stylish double-breasted jacket has been missing from high fashion, and consequently the adaptive (even plagiarising) chains on the high street; hopefully this means more affordable versions will follow. Its elegance lifts pedestrian and even lacklustre pieces to a fine level of nattiness.

Gucci Blues

Frida Giannini is evidently not ashamed of exploitation. The Gucci name, so powerful and influential that shoppers queue from the early hours on discount days to ‘grab a piece of the action’ as one Selfridge’s shopper aptly put it as she scrambled past the velvet ropes outside the concession in the sales. And Giannini knows this. Consequently, the Gucci runways do have a fair amount of branded tack, relevant for the materialist-glutton in the scowling Ferrari. Ms Giannini often throws a lot of very average and forgettable sportswear onto the runways, but she clearly has talent. The beginning of the Spring 2009 collection seems encouraging; pale and interesting summer suits, wacky floral shoes and a good deal of blue (it seems I frequently forget what a marvellous colour it is).

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A Mediterranean Summer

“The Med” an impatient acquaintance of mine once remarked “really is quite dead.” The remark was made during that very forgettable post-Beach period when everyone I knew was stampeding in the general direction of Thai Air; backpacks, boarding passes and bonhomie. Chums were desperate to corner a piece of the ‘Thailand action’; “It’s cheaper than Italy” chirped an optimistic friend; “The beaches are so perfect!” cooed another. Both remarks were arguably valid; it was cheaper than Italy and the beaches were the paradigm examples of how beaches should be. However, that has changed – largely due to the explosion in tourism.

To clothe yourself for such a trip requires little thought; large quantities of shorts, casual short sleeved shirts and polo shirts. The ‘look’ was that of a student cast adrift; a wanderer and amateur philosopher. This look even affected some of the hardy Meddites – those who clutched their cool cocktails on the Costa del Sol or the Riviera – whose holiday wardrobes seemed to belong among the palms and the temples of South East Asia. It was, and still is, an awkward sight; the juxtaposition of two contrasting world destinations, and indeed it would be equally jarring to see linen trouser chic and nautical flavours at Koh Samui. The question I am pondering is; is style geographically transferrable?

History has a good number of representatives of the chameleonic school of style; Byron on his travels East, Mark Anthony on his sojourns to Egypt and TE Lawrence in his Arabian element. On the Grand Tour it was not considered out of the ordinary for wealthy travellers to adopt the local dress and style of the nation in which they were residing; the image that all wealthy Europeans stomped around the ancient palaces and ruins of Europe in Parisian fashions and London tailoring is slightly inaccurate – adopting certain modes and peculiarities of dress was part of the entertainment of travelling.

In these post-colonial days, the concept of dressing so frivolously ‘for the occasion’ is very much outdated. Even men who consider themselves to be conscientious both sartorially and culturally are likely to adopt only a few fashions of a local flavour. Many observers might also consider that the internationalisation of fashion has led to the establishment of a ‘world fashion’; where gentlemen of all nationalities might adopt very similar ensembles for different localities and different purposes – this is, of course, the inevitability of improved communication.

If I were travelling in Europe, or beyond, for the summer season I would be attempting what has been considered a ‘Mediterranean style’; soft, light coloured shoes, linens, cotton shirts; cliché casual chic, a la Dickie Greenleaf from The Talented Mr Ripley. It’s comfortable and really rather adaptable. And specifically, it is transferrable. The Mediterranean style is not homogenous or dull; it looks altogether organic and fresh but it is certainly less conspicuous than some of the more ‘dandy’ and historic summer styles that, while often beautiful and striking, really do belong on the creaking boulevards and in the faded glory of Old Europe.

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