Odd Colour Combinations

There are a good few ways to stand out in a suit, almost as many as the chapters of a style book: cloth, cut, pattern, accessories etc. But one of the most rewarding and hardest to master is colour. It is so easy to get wrong – everyone can summon some lurid combination from his or her memory. I saw someone in a suit recently that had bulbous red chalk stripes on a grey/green ground. It was hideous.

Colour is also relatively easy to get right – blue suit, white shirt, blue tie; grey suit, pink shirt, black tie; grey suit, white shirt, almost any tie. What is genuinely difficult is a colour combination that is right but unusual. Something that stands out because it is not safe, and therefore is rarely worn; but that works.

Combining colours does not come naturally to many men. It is an artistic talent at heart, and one that few have pursued or developed. Most would ideally have a colour combination chart to refer to, but disliking such artifice, choose to re-wear the same few combinations.

I cycle to work most days, and keep a few suits and pairs of shoes in the office. So every morning I have to pack a shirt and tie, trying to picture how they will go with the suits, shoes and other accessories I have at work. It makes picking combinations even harder.

There are three combinations that I like particularly because they are different, and that I think stand out because they work. They are pink and green, purple and yellow, and blue and brown.

Pink and green works best as a shirt/tie combination: pale pink shirt, bright green tie. The tie I have is a sharp green polo tie, complete with small red insignia. I’m sure the red helps a little to harmonise with the shirt, but the pink and green themselves work wonderfully. Unusual, yes; but it works. I also have a dark green handkerchief with brown detailing that works just as well to complement an open-necked pink shirt. Red and green are of course contrasting colours, but they are too strong on their own to pair off well. With the red diluted into pink, it works.

Which segues nicely into purple and yellow, as they are also contrasting colours (for those who can’t remember art class, a primary colour’s contrasting colour is the result of mixing the other two primaries). Now purple and yellow are hard to match in a shirt and tie. I have one very pale yellow shirt that does work with a dark purple tie, but I think the two are best put together in bright but separated combinations – shirt and pocket handkerchief or socks and tie/handkerchief/shirt. Mostly I think yellow works best as the first of these pairings. Try a purple paisley handkerchief with your yellow shirt; or bright yellow socks with an otherwise sober purple tie.

My last combination is less unusual, but it is a perennial favourite. All too often I feel men reach for a drab or washed-out tie to go with their blue shirt – grey, black or a pale version of one of the colours above. Instead, try a brown tie, perhaps with a white stripe. The richness of the colour is unusual and draws the eye; the same works with a brown handkerchief (perhaps yellow/orange pattern) to an open-necked blue shirt. The same rule applies to brown shoes with a blue shirt, as is often said. The Italians like brown shoes they hardly wear anything else. Black is reserved for formal wear. Get a nice pair of chocolate Oxfords and you may find yourself doing the same.

Avoid the Herding Instinct

I like to read my fellow MensFlair columnists articles when I get the chance. Managing my own blog as well as drafting regular columns for arguably one of the best menswear sites on of the Web can be a bit challenging at times. As we all search for new, thoughtful, educational or just plain interesting columns in which to espouse our views on any given subject, we sometimes find ourselves in the role of oracle.

This is a tricky thing. While it is, in my service-oriented opinion, a social obligation for someone with an expertise in a given discipline to render assistance when needed, it is easy for those on the receiving end to accept that advice as sartorial law. Luckily, most of you are not shy about telling us when our arguments are flawed and where our viewpoints are just plan off. And that’s the way it should be.

I say all this without any disrespect to my fellow authors, of course. I think they are some of the best style bloggers out there. We all have our particular angles when it comes to menswear. Yet we also know that our particular proclivities are just those – a personal inclination unique to each of us when it comes to dressing. We write about that we know and what we like.

If you don’t already, take some time and think about your own stylistic likes and dislikes before you start looking to us for any guidance. Do you like pleated pants even though we almost uniformly tell you not to? Are you an ardent fan of patent leather white shoes? Do you prefer baggy deconstructed suits with padded shoulders to tailored, elegant models?

While I may disagree with almost all those choices, if they’re what you happen to like, who I am I to dictate otherwise? I will tell you this however; make your clothing choices relevant to today.

Too often I see men who are stuck in a particular time period or fashion cycle where they happen feel most comfortable. While this in and of itself is not a crime, not adapting those styles to the modern world is, to me, a serious crime because you typically look silly where you could have looked distinctive.

I once worked with a political consultant who had some remarkable suits that were without a doubt made in the late 1970s. They were custom jobs that he had handmade in London and was still clearly fond of each and every one. The problem was that he wore entire outfits that belonged in the 1970s. From shoes to ties, shirts to belts, he looked laughable but just couldn’t see it. It was his comfort zone and that was that.

The suits, with their pronounced patterns, wide lapels, wide bottomed trousers and overall exaggerated cut could easily have been tweaked into a stylish, slightly retro look. By updating his shirt and tie, investing in new oxfords and trying out new belts or braces, this very intelligent guy could pull together a hip and unique style all his own that still belongs in the modern world.

Be your own man and establish a personal style that is right for you. Take the advice and expertise that sites like MensFlair have to offer but filter it though your own likes and dislikes. And if you totally disagree with one of our pronouncements, that’s great news because it tells me that you still have your own style goals.

Appeal of Linen

Of the multitude of fabrics offered for sale; the miles of natural, man made and combination material, linen is surely the most ancient and certainly one of the most enduring. It is strong, long lasting and attractive and though it has certainly ‘had its day’, it is still popular for its character, coolness and practicality. Admittedly, I do not possess much in the way of it. My linen collection is small and entirely seasonal although this is rather common, and indeed customary, for those even in ownership of overly substantial wardrobes. Linen, like silk, is a minor feature in the gentleman’s clothing closet. The years when fine white Irish linen shirts dominated the fashionable scene are gone; linen is now seen as a novelty.

Compared to cotton it is expensive and, though certainly stronger, less manageable. The crumpled linen shirt may be charming whilst sipping a Chianti on a terrace admiring the view from the hills surrounding Florence, but the lack of elasticity in the fibres becomes rather tedious when it gets down to the practicalities of the work place. There is undoubtedly something honest and organic about it. And like silk, it is easily identified with the merest of touches and, for what it lacks in all-round convenience, it makes up for in character.

For character is where linen really excels. I rather like to think of it as a tired and old grande dame; though creased and unrefined, still captivating onlookers with texture and spirit. What other material can be worn untucked and a little frayed and flabby at the edges? Cotton may be an excellent all rounder but compared to linen it is high maintenance. Cotton needs primping and fuss; a shirt or suit, otherwise respectable, is utterly ruined by evidence of the wearer’s repose. Linen is seemingly impervious to the negative effects of reclining. It certainly creases but somehow, it doesn’t matter. It looks acceptable.

Linen shirts

For the summer, the perfect linen shirt is essential. From providing cool protection from the brutal rays of sunshine to cutting a relaxed yet tasteful figure at the loggia restaurant, the linen shirt is such a comfortable choice at this time of year. The ideal linen shirt is not slim-fitting; somehow the crumpled elegance and manufactured fit do not sit well together. It should not be oversized and baggy either, although it is sensible to allow more than a little room between fabric and skin. Although linen shirts are fabulous in pinks, greens, azures and checks there is nothing quite like an ivory for freshness and versatility.

Linen suits

I believe that linen, whilst an outstanding material, should be worn in moderation. Therefore, wearing linen shirts with linen suits is pushing it a tad too far. Contrasts in texture are important – a light cotton shirt is a much better match for a linen suit. And a well made linen suit is a thing of robust beauty: there is something so indescribably luxurious about the way a floppy but tailored linen trouser falls against well-burnished shoe leather. Whilst they are more prevalent now in two button form, a well-fitting three button linen suit (creating the ‘X’ shape when the middle button is fastened) is also very elegant and, due to the fabric’s durability, it will serve the wearer well for many years. For the proverbial cherry, a woven silk pocket square would add a further Titian-esque dimension of texture to the ensemble.

Etiquette vs “Me”

A friend once wrote to me, in an awful panic, practically begging me for help. His email was littered with exclamation marks and his written manner, though frank and to the point, evidenced his trepidation. He needed sartorial advice – specifically, on etiquette. Halfway through my verbose instructions, I began to ponder the situation. “Here we have an intelligent young man” I told myself. He is attractive, relatively confident and interesting and yet when it comes to suitable clothing for a particular event, he is in a state of utter confusion. Not uncommon, agreed. However, my chum was not in this state because of a lack of basic knowledge; I was confident that he had, at least, the most rudimentary understanding of the dress code. His panic was that, while he wanted to follow etiquette, he wanted to stand out – and stand out some way: his goal was that of impressing a young lady to the point that she might single him out for special appreciation.

This push and pull between sartorial etiquette and individualism has often vexed even the most seasoned style men of my acquaintance. Though some might subscribe to the Wildean idea of “being a work of art”, others might argue that the real art is in restraint. I have been rather undecided. On the one hand, I can see the beauty and simplicity in following etiquette; a man dressed appropriately, if dressed well, would walk in to knowing nods of approval and whispers of “Classic, simply classic.” He would have no concerns about his ensemble, enabling him to put the idea quite out of his head once amongst the throng. There would be none of that John Bull gawping; only side glances of envy and concealed respect.

On the other hand, I can see the other argument; that etiquette on these occasions is for people with little interest in clothing and no idea how to dress well. Women are far more capable of adapting to this philosophy. They pay respect to conventions where appropriate, but they are more pragmatic than males in the sense of adapting costumes of etiquette to outfits more in tune with their own personality. The man who flaunts and violates wildly, without fail, will indeed make a mistake. However, it is revolutionaries and not conservatives that have shaped the course of fashion. Heroes like Edward VIII, latterly the Duke of Windsor, had an extraordinary ability (though his influential position in society did no harm) to break the rules without offending. The time at which Edward began to ignore certain starchy conventions, little had changed since the Victorian and Edwardian period, was ripe for radicalism. The Great War incited cynicism about the values of the past; Europe had given up on jingoism and reverence to tradition. Jazz filled the dance halls; there were political revolutions, a rejection of the continuation of a patriarchal society and His Royal Highness, swanning around in a dinner jacket at a function for tails, merely provided the coup de grâce.

Nowadays, it is rather different. There is neither the atmosphere nor the taste for radicalism. The men lauded for their sense of individualism and style are scarcely revolutionaries; they are more likely to be conservatives with quirks. And to my mind, this is a product of society, not because of a want for visionaries.

In completion of the instructions to my friend, I encouraged him to experiment a little. I informed him I would not tell him how to dress; that would simply be a conformation to another etiquette – my own. I offered him ideas and options and informed him that standing out as an ‘individual’ really required ‘individualism’ and that, truthfully, he possessed it in spades. It simply needed digging out.

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.