How A Three Rolls To Two

Fans of traditional clothing are fairly united in their dislike of ‘true’ three-button suits – where the jacket is designed to button all the way up and leaves an awkward angle in the cloth if it is not. This fastening design is a hangover from the sleek Italian style of the late fifties and early sixties, where the long silhouette was accentuated by a high fastening and three or four buttons. It inspired the Continental look in the US in the late fifties and the British Mods in the early sixties.

The more elegant alternative for a three-button jacket is to have a lapel that easily rolls over when only the centre button is fastened – so-called ‘three rolls to two’. That way the lapel line is longer and sleeker, but you retain the option of buttoning all the way up if it gets cold, windy or both.

I was chatting to my tailors at Graham Browne the other day and it seems there are two ways to achieve this roll. The first, more English way is to put a loose, sparse row of stitches down the back of the lapel that leads to the centre button. This creates some permanent structure to the roll and ensures that, while it remains soft, it always looks the same. The position of the canvas in the chest also helps contribute to this effect.

The alternative, more American option is to put no structure in the lapels. Without an edge to the canvas or a separate row of stitches, the lapel is happy to roll wherever it wants. It will roll to the centre button if that is the one that is fastened. Or it will roll, though not quite as naturally, to the top or bottom button.

The way to tell the difference is to hang up both jackets and leave them unfastened. The latter construction will roll open very easily, and perhaps even roll over all the way down if there is little canvas in the chest. The former will always roll to the same place – where the stitches were sewn.

Most English tailors prefer more structure to their jackets – with famous and notable exceptions. They feel a jacket without it is more likely to lose its shape over time.

My mid-blue chalkstripe suit I have just commissioned from Graham Browne will be three-rolls-to-two the English way. Controversially, the waistcoat will also roll to its second button. Russell at Graham Browne hates this. But I think it adds a nice, casual tone to the waistcoat – more like a cardigan. And you’ve got to have some individuality, right?

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When You Absolutely, Positively Have To Go Tailor Made

One of the things we do on BespokeMe is street style photos.  That’s how I encountered the debonair gentleman above. You don’t see this type of double breasted suit very often –with good reason.

Popular with the Duke of Windsor it is sometimes referred to as the ‘Kent’ model. This is in reference to the Duke of Windsor’s brother, George Duke of Kent. He’s accredited with inventing the style, although I can find no definitive proof of this. It’s also called the 4-on-1, because of the four buttons on display only one is fastened.

Conventional wisdom states; if you’re going to wear a double breasted suit you should opt for the 6-on-2 (six buttons on display, two can be fastened). If buying an off the peg suit deviate from this advice at your peril!

Being well dressed doesn’t begin and end with bespoke or made to measure, but every rule has its exception, and the Kent is mine. To make this style work, as it does for gentleman above, you need four key ingredients;

-Firstly, the button has to be placed in just the right place. There is absolutely no room for error, and only consultation with your tailor will see this done right.

-Secondly, you need high armholes. This lengthens the torso preventing the suit from looking too boxy. It also prevents men of average or larger build looking fat.

-Thirdly, you need close fitting shoulders. Too wide and once again the suit will look boxy. Too much cloth across the chest will also allow the suit to gape.

-Finally, you need a full floating canvass. It’s a floating canvas that gives lapels a roll. A fused canvas leads the lapel to lay flat. To work this suit requires a long sweeping lapel with a nice roll.

N.B. You could also add to this list a requirement for slanted pockets, which will provide a sliming affect by making the waist appear narrower and the torso longer.

The chances of getting all these requirements from an off the peg suit, even a good one, is too tall an order.

Ever since my encounter with the gentleman above I’ve had it in mind, and can resist no longer. I’ve decided to try my shirt makers new made to measure suit service after Christmas (no suit made before Christmas will fit afterwards) and have one made up. As much as I love the style, I wouldn’t contemplate it otherwise.

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Fused Or Unfused Collars?

There’s a lot of snobbery and silliness in the world of men’s clothing, but then it’s no different to any other field.

One area where this is particularly acute is in discussion of whether a shirt should have a fused or unfused collar. Proponents of each type engage in something akin to sartorial top trumps; trading detail, luminary endorsement and experience in an attempt to prove themselves the connoisseur, and their opponent the school boy amateur.  My view is that you’d do well to know the difference between them both and use each to their best affect.

Obviously the collar and cuffs of a shirt need to be more solid than its body. To do this you take two pieces of shirt cloth (outer facings) and between them sandwich another, different type of material known as interlining. The interlining forms a sort of skeleton providing rigidity and shape. There are subtle differences adopted by each shirt maker, but on the whole whether you have fused or unfused collars both will use two outer facings and a piece of interlining material. So, what is the difference?

The unfused collar is the more traditional method of construction and favoured by English shirt makers. The interlining is sewn into position between the two outer facings –similar to a floating canvas in a suit. If you pinch either side of the collar or cuff and pull the material in opposite directions you should be able to pull the two facings apart.  Unfused collars will often feel softer too.

The fused collar is favoured by most Italian shirt makers. Here the interlining is glued/fused to one or both outer facings. Rub the collar between your fingers and typically you’ll find either no movement or one side of outer facing will move slightly. Fused collars tend to look a little sharper.

Both types have their drawbacks. An unfused collar may pucker particularly if the interlining and shirt fabric shrink at different rates. If you’ve ever ironed a shirt collar and found a ridge or what seemed to be an excess of cloth at the collar points that’s the reason. A fused collar often gets a bad rap because earlier interlinings were very poor and often bubbled after a few washes –this is owing to the cloth being misaligned at fusing.

Of course both have their benefits and you can use them to alter your look and provide added subtlety –just as a collar style can augment a particular look or physiology. Strangely, while an unfused collar is often softer it can appear more constructed and weightier, which in my view makes it ideal for wearing with suits and ties, providing for a very English look. Conversely, while many feel fused collars are sharper and stand better –particularly without a tie- they often look thinner, lighter, less constructed and more informal. I find them perfect for wearing with odd jackets, particularly when paired with jeans. Here we look to Italian men, so often featured on The Sartorialist. Indeed, iron the collar right and you can get that lovely arching which most Italian men seem to acquire.

So my advice, for what it’s worth, is use your collars to play with your look and leave the Top-Trumpers to their childish games.

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Big Knits

I have a confession to make; I wear v-neck jumpers that are actually made for women. I have never sought to hide the fact, but I am sometimes asked exactly where in Zara Man I manage to find such slim fitting jumpers and so, due to this pressure, must come clean. I have picked up countless shades of the same item of knitwear from the Zara stores dotted around London and am rather delighted to be able to do so, especially as each jumper costs less than a tenner.

I do own, and wear, jumpers designed for gentlemen but I rarely wear these with suits or odd jackets. They are too thick, too lumpy and too substantial to wear in a smart ensemble; the Zara knitwear, by comparison, is thin and perfectly fitted. It adds warmth and colour to the ensembles without adding pounds and folds. It’s unfortunate for menswear retailers that my substantial interest in v-neck jumpers cannot be sated by their wares but it is down to my rather awkward and tiny frame; some retailers have ceased to stock the ‘XS’ size I require for the garment to fit correctly. As such, they no longer enjoy my custom.

It’s a relief then that when it comes to ‘big knits’, I can return to the menswear department with glee; there’s no chance of me attempting to squeeze an item of this type in the sleeves of my hounds tooth jacket. For the ‘big knit’ is a standalone item. It has no association with suits or blazers. It is an item of comfort and familiarity. On the breeziest of breezy autumn days, you can wander out into the world with nothing else between your Jermyn Street shirt and the worsening winds than this lovely, woolly, heart-warmingly cosy creation of knitwear.

Despite the belief that big knits are simply uber-trendy, J Lindeberg-ish items for painfully skinny ‘twenty-sumfings’, they are actually items appropriate for men of all ages and can be accommodated in wardrobes of varying styles. Although often worn by less conservative chaps with t-shirts, fashion denim and pointed shoes, big knits also look fantastic with shirts, ties and bow ties; paired with smart trousers and loafers, such an ensemble gives a fine, off-duty matinee idol look. Very Doug Fairbanks.

The most important thing to remember about big knits is that they require a lower half of contrasting formality and finesse; big, tough old jeans and khakis make the whole look rather slovenly and unless you wish to look like a clueless teen, avoid training shoes. It has to appear that, although the knit is an item of comfort for the gentleman, underneath it all he is still a devastatingly dapper blade.

Shawl collared knits look the best with ties and bow ties and have a youthful, Twenties Ivy League charm that can be accentuated with tasselled loafers and Argyle socks.

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The Great Debate: Umbrellas

Of all the great inventions, for the man of style the umbrella ranks as one of the most important. It protects him and his treasured clothes from all forms of beastly precipitation; from the dreary drizzle of the British Isles to the torrential downpours in the subtropical metropolis. The umbrella is the most crucial ally of the stylish boulevardier. I remember some absurd commentary in a free and rather poorly compiled newspaper criticising the ‘wimpy blokes’ who ‘hide’ under these ‘feminine contraptions’ for, as they confidently stated, ‘it’s only water – you’ll dry eventually.’ I don’t really know exactly what sort of reaction this commentator was hoping for but I would imagine they’d wished for a revolution of some sort and would have been rather excited to see perfectly usable umbrellas dumped and burned, their former owners standing in the rain, heads turned to the heavens grinning beatifically in their ‘release.’

Unfortunately, this plea fell on deaf ears. Umbrellas are still in use. From the minnow foldaways to the giant golf umbrellas which are nearly always carried by rather superior looking middle aged gentlemen and which, on the narrow pavements of the city, look rather ridiculous; like a whale attempting to navigate the Avon. However, the clear advantage of the larger brolly is that more of your person is protected from the rain; the larger the canopy, the greater the guard. Despite their rather bloated and inconvenient size, this makes such umbrellas appealing. The small, collapsible umbrella, while seemingly ingenious (‘Look, it fits right into my briefcase!’) is only a friend to the head and shoulders. Since most rain does not fall with perfect verticality, a small canopy will only protect your upper torso.

Many I meet whilst in possession of my whangee handled stick brolly look at it in paternalistic amusement; they mumble something about the risk of leaving it somewhere and mention, with a degree of self-satisfaction, that they just have a ‘bag brolly.’ I tell those who insist on continued examination that I have possessed the same umbrella for a number of years and that as I walk a great deal around the metropolis, I require a strong mechanism with a large canopy. From their responses, I often elicit a smugness that suggests that they feel rather sorry for me in carrying such an inconvenient object whenever the leaden skies suggest rain; the reason being that their inconvenience is comparatively small – and, importantly, concealed when not in use.

Despite these evident concerns, my style of umbrella – commonly referred to as the City umbrella – is the only form of umbrella I would carry. It is no wonder that smarter versions of it are named ‘Gents Umbrella’ or ‘Diplomat’ as it is certainly more polite than the rather anti-social golf umbrella, and undoubtedly more protective of one’s sartorial elegance than the foldaway. It is larger, yes, and you cannot carry it in a bag, but is that really so awful? I like having to carry it by the bamboo crook on my amblings around town. It’s a piece to be proud of and contrary to popular belief, I think it is easier to mislay a smaller, less significant umbrella; after walks in the rain, I leave it unfastened, dripping on the back of a chair. No matter how many ales I imbibe, it’s still evident to me as I rise to leave. In contrast, the little bag brolly, which still requires drip-time and cannot be placed back into one’s bag until completely dry, is so insignificant and so diminutive it is unsurprising that so many are found under tables, on train seats and in the bulging lost property hold of public transport offices.

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