The Misunderstood Pleat

Pleats are useful if you wear your trousers high, or if you are overweight. Otherwise they are useless.

Traditionally, most trousers had pleats rather than being flat fronted. Usually two on either side, and usually outward-facing (meaning that the hollow of the fold was on the side of the hips rather than the fly). The pleat closest to the fly was deeper. The English often wore their pleats inward-facing, considering the way they fell to be more elegant as less likely to gape.

But this was because they wore their trousers on the natural waist. This is easy to find: it is above your hip bones; often around the level of the belly button, though this can vary from one person to another. The waist is normally the slimmest point on a person, which is one reason men wore their trousers there, and why jackets are nipped in there – to accentuate the difference in width from shoulder to waist. It is certainly why women wore their skirts on the waist, and why many women still do so today. Their jackets are usually nipped in more obviously as well.

Now if your trousers have a high rise (the length from crotch to waistband) and are sitting on your waist, they need to go out before they go in. They need to expand from this slim point to get up and over the hip bones. Otherwise they would be skintight from the waist all the way down to the middle of the thighs. Pleats are necessary. They enable this expansion neatly and elegantly, dovetailing back into the line of the trousers when width is no longer needed after the mid-thigh point.

But you do not need them if you wear your trousers on your hips (as most do these days). This is also easy to determine – your trousers sit on the hip bone. The skin has hard hip bone underneath, not squidgy stomach. Why some men have trouble telling where their waist is I’ll never know.

Pleats worn on the hips make your thighs look like melons. They create needless volume. Combine pleats with a sharp narrowing to the ankle, and cuffs at the bottom of the trouser, and you have the abomination of so many American khakis. The pleats give volume at the top of the leg. The narrow ankle accentuates this proportion. And the cuffs make your leg two inches shorter.

It is hard to see how, without wearing pedal-pushers, a pair of trousers could be less flattering. Except that Americans have done it – they finish off the ensemble with a large pair of white trainers. So the trousers puddle at the ankle as well, their line being entirely unsuited to falling elegantly onto ankle-supporting Nikes.

Pleats, again only if worn on the waist, can be flattering for larger men. They mean that their trousers fall straight down rather than going in first, highlighting a belly.

That is the limited, albeit useful role of pleats. Ignore anyone who says they just want roomier pockets.

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Reader Question: Examining the Fit

Pete, Hong Kong: When I’m standing in front of the mirror for my first fitting, how do I tell whether the suit fits or not? How do I know if the tailor has done a good job, and tell him to change something if he hasn’t?

As with the last post, here is a list of areas to examine. Check these things at the first fitting and the second. In fact, check them every time you put the suit on, as the tailor will probably be willing to change one or two things shortly after the suit is done. And it probably won’t cost much to change them long after the fact.

These tips equally apply to a ready-to-wear suit, and can help you decide which aspects of the suit to have altered.

All of these points are subject to personal taste and fashion. This is a description of the fit of a classic suit worn to today’s tastes. Its closest historical archetype is probably the Drape.

Shoulders: If the shoulders are too narrow for you, you will see the swell of your actual shoulder pushing against the material at the top of the sleeve. There may also be stretch lines running across the material and an indentation at the top of the sleeve. These lines can also be a sign that the sleeve is too narrow for you.

If the suit is too big, its shoulders will extend in a ledge beyond your own. To fit properly, there should be a clean, direct line from the edge of the suit’s shoulder to the edge of yours, just skirting the skin.

Collar: The collar of the suit, at the back of your neck, should sit flush with the collar of your shirt, leaving between one and two inches of shirt above the suit (depending on the height of your collar). If there is too much material across the back, the collar will stand away from your neck. If there is too little, the collar will be flush with your shirt and there will be folds running horizontally below the collar where the cloth is stretched.

(Tip: When being measured, don’t stand up artificially straight and tall. It may impress the tailor, but all your suit collars will stand away from your neck when you stand naturally.)

If you can, get two or three mirrors to look at yourself in. It is particularly useful if you can see your back – it is a roadmap of fit. The folds under the collar are mentioned here, but you will also be able to see unsightly stretch marks across your tummy if it is too tight there; if there are wrinkles underneath your arms this probably means the shoulders are sagging; and one long fold down the middle of your back demonstrates an excess of material there. It’s all pretty intuitive – just look for those wrinkles and wonder what they might mean.

Waist: The fit of the waist is very much a matter of personal taste, but there should definitely be an obvious suppression in the line of suit at your side, going in where your waist button fastens (middle button on a three-button suit, top one on a two-button). There should be no folds radiating from the waist button, which again show the cloth being stretched. And when you pull the waist button away from you, it should pull out easily an inch or two, but no more.

Beyond that, try walking around the fitting room and moving your arms. The jacket should feel comfortable (this will be helped by higher armholes). It should of course be unbuttoned when you sit down – but try doing this and make sure you would be comfortable typing at a desk when seated.

Most other aspects of fit were mentioned in my previous posting – sleeve length, trouser length etc. Add these to the checklist above.

Hopefully, you should be a relatively good judge of whether your trousers fit you around the waist.

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Sartorial Ideas for a Wedding

Alright, hands up anyone off to a spring/summer wedding. The chances that a good number of maulers would be lifted on reading this are extremely good indeed. Spring and summer weddings are an inevitability; they are the cliché of clichés. Just as thousands of perspiring tourists descend upon poor Venice every summer, thumping along the preciously perched structures like a herd of Wildebeest marching across a spider’s web, thousands of people will choose to have an ‘in season’ wedding; “Shall we do it in winter darling? It’ll be novel!” “No darling, let’s congest the precious and few summer days…everyone expects us to.” It is true – we do expect, often with bated breath, at least a few invitations for nuptials in the sunny season. For most people in the UK, incapable of flying a couple of hundred people off to the Caribbean or the Maldives in the less clement months of December or February, the marriage can be given no greater head start than the perfect spring or summer wedding; the pleasant church surrounded by blossom, the magnificence of a garden marquee and the utter embarrassment of drunken relatives tripping into the pool.

As the days lengthen across the Northern hemisphere, the gentle sound of gold and silver lettered envelopes tumbling to the floor reaches a crescendo. Should you find the functions mounting up and encounter a clash, fear not. There is a sure-fire way to guarantee your attendance at the most worthy function. Stand in the corner of a large room and throw the clashing invitations, one by one, to the other side. The sturdiest invitation will be that which reaches the other side, or comes closest to it. This is the invitation that should take preference over the other.

Once you have chosen the wedding which, you feel, would most suit your attendance, it is time to give some thought to clothing. Most chaps I know consider a wedding to be ‘someone else’s day’, thus shunning the philosophy of the peacock; they dress arbitrarily and even poorly with the excuse that dressing well would somehow upset the bride and groom, especially if you were better dressed than they. Whilst I can appreciate the sensitivity, this is absolute nonsense. The bride and groom are far more likely to clasp your hands warmly in gratitude that someone took their well planned and painstakingly produced function seriously and dressed up accordingly.

It’s a wedding, not a conference

One of the most awful realities of dressing for weddings is that people believe a suit – no matter what type of suit, as long as the trousers match the jacket – is king. Whilst the average suit is a very practical and certainly inoffensive form of clothing, it can also be rather dull and pedestrian. I attended a wedding in a black short jacket, spongebag trousers and patent Oxford shoes only to find the other men had shuffled along in crumpled four button suits and scruffy loafers.

Ironically, some of the worst formally dressed chaps brushed up well later on when they put on their ‘glad rags’ which was even more saddening as it revealed their interest in clothes was merely superficial. I think a pair of smart trousers and a contrasting jacket are perfectly acceptable and far more interesting; a blue blazer with caramel trousers and burgundy Oxford shoes will look urbane and chic, and yet at the same time appropriate ‘costume’ for a wedding. For to me, weddings are a theatrical event that in the past called for the most theatrically grand items of day wear; the morning suit and top hat.

Knowing when to stop…

That last point about morning suits and top hats brings me neatly around to the issue of limits. Having thrown the licence to dazzle and be individual in the air, I think it only sensible to consider the limitations that exist in deciding upon the wedding wardrobe. Firstly, think theatrically but set barriers – there is a fine line between harmonious wedding habiliments and absurd clownishness. By all means be a little experimental and daring but, if you find yourself treading the path of excess, remember the Coco Chanel motto; “always remove one item before leaving the house.”

‘The only link between Art and Nature’

Weddings are a wonderful excuse to wear a buttonhole. I have been known to dabble in orchids, chrysanthemums and black roses (really a very deep red; alluring and frightfully luxurious, though they sound funereal) but the key thing is to buttonhole honestly and appropriately; my chrysanth’ had to match my ivory and blue striped tie and ivory waistcoat or at least depart from it so completely that it did not clash. Another thing to remember is that rarity of flower is not the ultimate; the highest quality rose or carnation will provide greater flourish than the dank and weeping orchid.

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Reader Question: Going to the Tailor

Pete, Hong Kong: I’m going to a tailor here to have two suits made. They will effectively be my first suits as my existing one is so old, and they will primarily be for business. What should I consider before I go, so that I can answer all the tailor’s questions?

Below is a list of areas you should consider, and my recommendations on each:

Colour: The two most useful and fundamental suit colours are navy blue and mid-grey. They go with the greatest number of shirts and ties, can be anything from casual to wedding attire, and suit most colourings. If you want variation, one of these could be in a pinstripe. Make sure the stripe is not too bold or too close together. Avoid checks, at least to start with.

Cloth: Both should be wool. Cotton and linen are summer extras, and there is no need for cashmere or silk blends. The average weight of wool used in suits is nine to eleven ounces. For you (Pete clarified that he would like one suit that would be comfortable even in a Hong Kong summer, and another that would survive an English winter) I would recommend one lighter weight – perhaps seven or eight ounces if you can find it – and one heavier – more like twelve to fifteen. Flannel is a nice alternative, but would be too heavy for most of the year in Hong Kong. (The vast majority of wool suitings are worsted, which is wool that has been combed and flattened to appear thinner and crisper. Flannel or woollen suitings are not combed and are thus rougher.)

Ignore the “super” wool numbers. This refers to the width of the wool’s individual strands – the higher the number, the thinner the strand. Thinner wool is more delicate and more expensive, but also less long lasting. Anything around super 100s or super 120s will be fine for you.

Buttoning: Two or three-buttoned jackets are most usual. Two is a little more fashionable and also suits more men, as it has a deeper neck line. Three, particularly with little ‘roll’ (how much the jacket opens when only the waist-button is fastened) can look boxy. If in doubt, try on both in a shop and see which you prefer.

Lapels: Go for notched lapels, which looks like a triangle has been cut out of each. Peaked lapels can look rakish, but are more an option for later on. Use your own eye on the width of the lapels. If they look too wide, ask for narrower ones (the tendency is towards wider lapels in Asia).

Trousers: Let them sit on your hips wherever they feel most comfortable to you. This will probably be a little higher than where you where jeans, but not as high as they were traditionally worn – on the natural waist, nearer your belly button.

Trousers tend to be wider in Asia than the west, so watch our for that and ask for them to be narrower. If you want a precise instruction on how wide they should be, measure your existing suit trousers (the width at the bottom, doubled for the circumference). The length is traditionally such that there is one break in the front of the trouser when wearing shoes, but none in the back. Or, when you stand in them without shoes, the back just touches the floor. I like mine a little shorter than this, but it only works with narrower trousers (which I also generally prefer).

It’s worth avoiding belt loops if you can, as this looks far smarter. If you lose or gain weight the trousers can always be taken in or out. If you want a compromise, ask for side tabs – small, adjustable straps on either side of the trousers that can cinch them in a little. The trousers should fasten on at least two points, whether buttons or hooks, preferably three. One should be at the end of a length of overlapping material.

The trousers should be plain fronted. Pleats only suit two types of people: those with expanded girths, and those who wear their trousers on their waist. Oh, and get two pairs of trousers to each suit. They will last twice as long.

Pockets: There should be three outer pockets on the jacket, two on the hips and one on the breast. The first two should have flaps, the third should not. Unless you want to be flashy, don’t go for a ticket pocket (small extra pocket above the right-hand waist pocket) or for sloping, ‘hacking’ pockets.

Trouser pockets should be cut as overlapping material rather than slits in the trousers, though they can be cut at an angle to avoid them gaping.

Sleeves: The sleeves should have four buttons each, that just touch each other and all undo – though only the show-off actually leaves them undone. When your hands are at your side, the sleeve should reach your wrist bone, where the hand joins the arm, and it should leave exposed a small sliver of shirt (under half an inch). Again, sleeves tend to be longer in Asia so you may have to insist on this.

Jacket others: Go for two vents at the back: this allows you to put your hands in your pockets without buckling the shape (no vents) or unveiling your arse (one vent).

The jacket’s length should be such that it covers your arse well, and your fingers extend a little beyond it when they are at your side.

The strength or padding of the shoulder depends on how broad and square you think your shoulders are – only ask for less padding or a natural shoulder if you think they need no help at all.

- Pete, if you have any other questions please ask them in the comments below and I will attempt to answer them. I will also do a separate blog in the near future that will give advice on what to look for when your suit is on, to tell if it fits.

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Sartorial Love/Hate: Fair Isle Knitwear

“You’re wearing a rug” shrugged a rather bored acquaintance of mine as I turned in front of the mirrors positioned outside the jute carpeted, well spot-lit changing rooms. He was, naturally, referring to a Fair Isle vest I had decided to try on. I very much liked it but my companion, a man ill disposed towards clothes shopping, viewed it as a fussy and unattractive non-necessity. It is sometimes useful having a polar opinion. Not that it might help you to see the ‘errors’ in your judgment, but simply that it will serve to remind you why you have been right all along and why your own taste towers above that of the uninterested and blasé majority. When recalling this incident, it reminded me how two chaps of the same age, from the same school with the same cavalier attitude towards life could differ so strongly in relation to a garment. It was another dreaded case of sartorial love/hate.

I must admit that the Fair Isle patterns, whilst I find them charming, are certainly not for everyone. For one thing, they don’t suit many people; you have to have a sympathetic personality and more than a little personal flair to carry the look off. Horn-rimmed spectacles help. As does a crop of thick, floppy hair and though I possess neither of these things, I attempted to make up for it with beatific smiles and an attempt at cocky charm.

For a pattern so strongly associated with the unaware and crumbling old gentleman, youth, or at least a youthful demeanour is a requirement. It is a pattern I consider the clothing equivalent of Christmas wrapping paper; it is as important what is added to it as how it might be displayed. I think it is important to prep it up – wearing Bengal striped shirts underneath with crisp club ties and perhaps a slim fitting club blazer over the top. I think it has looked its worse when worn, hobo style, over a white vest with perhaps a long black coat, All Stars and a beanie. This detracts from the innocence of the Fair Isle knitwear as something bright and quirky: something to be worn by a man with sartorial confidence and self-assuredness, not embarrassingly and begrudgingly with mismatched items from J.Lindeberg. This is not grandmother’s knitting, only to be worn in the holiday season; this is a fine design.

I think Fair Isle knitwear looks simply splendid with denim, blazers and driving shoes. I think it looks truly dreadful with Wellington boots and ancient cords, ballooning in the wind. If anything, a Fair Isle item of knitwear should be slim-fitting and sparing in terms of thickness. The ‘fisherman’s weight’ Fair Isle jumper, that knives have trouble in cutting through, should be avoided. This ungainly item belongs in the trunk of last resort; when central heating has failed the human race.

The photographs above, all from Ralph Lauren’s collection of Fair Isle items, suggest the right course for the use of the pattern: a clubby, Depression-era coolness with plenty of character (note the upturned collar and the cuffs).

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