“I have a problem...I bought five pocket squares recently from a London tailoring shop but they all fall down inside my pocket and don’t have the ‘puff’ that I have seen in others. How should I fold it? Or are the squares too small? Or the pocket too big. Thanks.” Folding pocket squares is a skill. Not much of a skill, but a skill nonetheless and as with all skills, it develops over time. The first square fold (or stuff) is one … [Read more...]

The problem I have with nice things is that having one of them is never enough. As soon as one has purchased something of fancy, and the feeling of a zero-sum victory has subsided, the search begins again. I have spent most of my young adult life believing my own nonsense; buying into self-promises, setting conservative targets. “Once I have that, then I have all my City suits...”; “...all I need is that pair of brown shoes, then my … [Read more...]

“Winston, what is the etiquette/rule regarding cardigan buttons? I see you wear your bottom one undone (like a waistcoat) but is this necessary? Can all buttons be done up?”
 Cardigans are one of winter’s greatest pleasures. There are few comparable feelings to that of the warmth and reassurance provided by a toasty lambswool six-buttoner underneath your suit as you step out on a chilly morning. Warmer than waistcoats and smarter than … [Read more...]

When a man doesn’t know me very well but knows, perhaps a little too well, what I write about, he often seeks to bond with me by chorusing my views on the general decline of menswear. “Most people” they begin “haven’t got a clue how to dress anymore, have they? It’s all too-long trousers worn like jeans, isn’t it? Clip-on bow ties and rented morning dress...” Much to their surprise, I do not rejoice in this sorry state of … [Read more...]

Amazingly, I am not a born and bred city boy. I say amazingly, for there are very few things I love as much as the grand city of London. I was in fact reared in the pseudo-countryside of south west Dorset, a place of bucolic idyll interrupted by those great arteries of suburban county life: dual carriageways. Memories are a mixture of tree-tops and pylons, the scurrying of a deer with the just-discernable sound of distant traffic. That I should … [Read more...]