Jeans: Just Liking the Basics

We talk a lot about brands on this site. What’s in or what’s out, what the new trend is and what you should give up. Brands and labels do matter; sometimes to others but more often to us. There is a certain cache to having an Etro suit as opposed to a mere Jos. A Bank; not only is the quality usually better but so is the “check me out” factor. But does the brand always have to be front and center?

When it comes to clothing, especially dress and tailored clothing, you do usually get what you pay for. Creating a well made odd jacket, for example, takes the time and effort of an experienced tailor and will involve more expensive materials. The amount of skill needed to construct a hand rolled lapel alone is prohibitively expensive for most average consumers.

For those of us who feel that the benefits of such craftsmanship are well worth the expense, arguing over the perceived value of a label is a rather moot point. But what about traditionally less glamorous articles of clothing – like jeans?

I know there has been a lot discussion of late about the benefits of raw, vintage, selvage, destroyed and every other sort of designer denim. The very design of the jean pant has evolved dramatically over the past few years. In fact, many see denim as the next big design movement for men.

Here is my problem: I like basic jeans. As I am now closer to 40 than 30, my need for a jean wardrobe has diminished. I simply don’t wear them as much as I used to. While I have flexibility when it comes to what I can wear to the office, I prefer tailored clothing. And when it comes to jeans, I happen to like a basic, functional and classic design.

I’ve decided that Levi’s classic 505 jeans are right for me. Nothing fancy; no hand sanding or customized distressing. I don’t want to break in my jeans for three months or dote over them like an expectant father. Though I have very high standards when it comes to most of the wardrobe, jeans are the exception. To me, they are supposed to be basic and casual. Jeans are iconic because of their lack of embellishment and fussiness. The very functionality of jeans is what makes them so archetypal.

Surprisingly, this opinion has left me with an odd feeling of not being too cool. Everywhere I look, I see a growing cadre of men’s designer jeans that can cost three to four times as much as the plain old five-pocket classics I prefer. Am I out of the loop; out of touch with current trends and the truly stylish? Shouldn’t I want to pull on APC or 7 For All Mankind? What about Rag and Bone? For more than $200, shouldn’t they be so much better than plain old Levis’ ring spun cotton?

I have fretted over my lack of designer jean obsession; I mean, I can talk for hours about the nuances of jacket venting (double), cashmere versus merino (merino), and the ideal grey flannel trouser (Incotex). So, why not jeans?

After considering this case from a number of angles, I have found an answer that works for me: I don’t care; it’s just what I like. When it comes to jeans, I go for the basics. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the creativity and unique quality that designers jeans offer; I do.

But, as is common in matters of fashion, I have likes and dislikes that are particular to me. And though I have no problem paying a premium for certain things, the jeans that work for me are just average Levis. That’s what makes life interesting.

Pocket Squares – Part 2: Wearing

In the introductory half of this double article, I imparted advice on how to take up the practice of adding a pocket square. This was vital as the second part of this ‘brace’ advances fairly swiftly, and quite without warning, into the practical side of adding a flourish. I feel it is important to remember a pocket square as a flourish. The original purpose of such an accessory is not relevant here; no one will be handing these squares of silk and linen to perspiring dancers and today’s man would rarely adopt such a decorative item as a tissue due to the arrival of disposable Kleenex.

Types of flourish

Essentially, there are two basic methods of inserting the flourish; folding and crushing. There are literally tens of ways to fold and crush a simple handkerchief, and it would be imprudent to begin an exhaustive series on the subject, so this article will only attempt to offer guidance on the two methods and when to use them. Naturally, the creative amongst you will be tempted to elaborate on this guidance and this is to be encouraged. What is also to be encouraged is practice. ‘Pocket stuffing’ poses particular problems as incompletely stuffed pocket squares tend to drown in the breast pocket; some will only notice when they glance in a mirror that their ‘flourish’ has gone a-hiding.

Crushing and stuffing

These are my favoured methods of flourish. I like folding on occasion, but there is something spontaneous and more artistic about the ‘crush’. It must be noted that silk is more effective being used in this way; cotton and linen pocket squares lack that crisp sheen that highlights the irregular yet attractive undulation of material. The basic method is to take the handkerchief in the palm of your hand (picture step 1) and then keeping your fingers grip on the material invert it (picture step 2) and push the material into the pocket (picture step 3), making sure that the whole pocket is filled, push down gently (picture step 4). The finished article (picture step 5) can then be altered to personal taste. Some might prefer a tall and triangular flourish (picture step 6).

Folding

Folding is a more conservative method of flourish. Though there are many exciting ways to fold pocket squares, I intend to share with you a simple method that requires little time, practice or education. Start out by opening your pocket square completely (picture step 1). Now fold this square in half into a rectangle (picture step 2); fold again into a square (picture step 3). Fold this square into a smaller rectangle (picture step 4) and then fold roughly one third of the rectangle (picture step 5) and insert this into the top pocket. Make adjustments to the flourish (picture step 6) by separating the layers of the pocket square from each other to create a serrated edge (picture step 7).  For even greater simplicity, simply fold the material in half at step 4 and insert into the pocket (picture step 8).

The ‘waterfall’

As mentioned in the opening article on pocket squares and flourishes, the ‘waterfall’ is a very individual and rather rare method of adding flair. Some love it, many hate it - I remember a famous protagonist being Lord Sebastian Flyte, played by Anthony Andrews in the television production of Evelyn Waugh’s  Brideshead Revisited. The method is deceptively simple although you may need a safety pin or two to keep the thing from misbehaving; unsecured ’waterfalls’ have a tendency to fly off with the wind. Take the pocket square and pinch an amount of the material between your thumb and middle fingers (picture step 1); then push this part to the bottom of the pocket, leaving the rest unfolded (picture step 2). Make adjustments or secure the material to give your look the ’waterfall effect’ (picture step 3).

These methods of manufacturing a flourish are easily adopted into a daily routine because of their simplicity. I do admire the pressed pocket squares in Brioni catalogues and the intricacy of the formulated shapes but, pretty as they are, I have not been able to adopt them into my quick morning routine because of time constraints. There are many combinations to attempt, and if you have the time and patience, you can iron your silk or linen into precise shapes. If however you want quick ‘pocket flair’, the above methods are well recommended.

Pocket Squares – Part 1: Embracing

For a number of years, I have adorned my jacket top-pockets. What began as a practice of sartorial experiments has evolved into a daily routine; I now adorn out of desire, no longer out of innocent curiosity. My first experiment with the pocket square was an act of costuming and it was rather a failure; my perpetual fluffing and fidgeting attracted sympathetic glances but also squints of consternation. I was an amateur and my amateurishness was strongly indicated by my unhealthy and naïve action of ’correction’.

This was something I learned quickly and painfully. To wear a pocket square, one must not appear ill acquainted with the accessory. It should be worn as carefully, or as carelessly, as any other item. It should be treated with the same pride or naiveté. To single it out for correction or fuss is to isolate it as an uncomfortable over-elaboration; and nothing is more fatal to the stylish boulevardier than obvious discomfort. To be uncomfortable in your clothing is for your clothing to be alien and such disingenuousness is mercilessly unflattering.

This is not to say that a chap should not experiment as his confidence grows; to try things on the street he has always tried in his bedroom mirror. It is perhaps ironic that we tire of relentless dress rehearsals and yearn for the unforgiving punches of the real world, but that is essentially what we want - the real opinion, the brutal honesty of wind, rain and daylight. Our sartorial concoctions are made for the uncertainty of the world not the dust-filled comfort of our flattering and forgiving dressing quarters. If anything, there should be more experimentation, more of a dalliance with past sartorial glories, more people whispering ‘I’ve always wanted to try that…’, and so my cautionary words to pocket-square novices are merely that; cautionary. I offer such advice in the hope that others will avoid my embarrassing faux pas.

Adding colour or merely texture to the top pocket is a splendid way to smarten and sophisticate the ever-so-common two or three button jacket. At first, you will sneer into the mirror, perhaps expelling a guffaw or two, at how ridiculous you look but this is, I can assure you, merely a temporary feeling of awkwardness. Over time you will come to appreciate how well a pocket square finishes a look and how, possibly, it has changed your perspective on complementation, coordination and polish.

As a flourish, the pocket square is a reflection of personality. The more cautious men might opt for a folded triangle, just peering over the top of the breast pocket. Others might be outrageously adventurous and attempt the ‘waterfall’; beloved of eccentric artists and artistic eccentrics, this style is not so much peering over the top as, the name implies it, gushing from the pocket. Your style of dress will dictate your pocket square fashion as will your mood, confidence and, yes, state of inebriation: I myself have dressed in such a state and have worn bizarre ’combinations’ of colours in my breast pocket that have given me the contrived appearance of a court jester.

Hello from Hong Kong: The Final Suit

As I walk along Queen’s Road Central, I have an odd feeling. There appears to be a constant pressure across my back, from shoulder to shoulder. Something is resting on each part of it equally.

It is, of course, my new suit, and such is the feeling of having something that is actually made for you that it is odd to feel consistency of pressure; to feel that this stretch of cloth has been made to fit across this stretch of skin.

It’s quite a pleasurable feeling, as is glancing down and seeing my trouser cuffs rest just so on the top of my shoes, or checking the time and finding exactly an inch of cuff between my suit sleeve and watch.

(An additional benefit of bespoke clothing here – the shirt I had made has a left cuff ever-so-slightly bigger than its right, as I tend to wear a large watch. This was a suggestion of my own – again, research is the key, these tailors will only change something you tell them to change.)

Overall, a very satisfactory outcome. I find it hard to see why I would ever buy a suit or shirt off the rack again. Of course, there are little things that you immediately want to change. I spotted one when I went to pick up the suit: the jacket waist was a little wider than I like. This was changed for the next day (useful to have the time to do this if you can manage it). But even when I picked it up finally there were little things I noticed within an hour of wearing it.

The trousers, though flat-fronted, had the deep pockets and roominess of pleats – so there was perhaps a little more material around the trouser front than I would have liked. And though the waist of the trousers fitted perfectly, I regretted asking for no belt loops or any other adjustment mechanisms – side pulls of the type I have on other trousers might have been more practical in case I lose or gain a little weight over the coming months.

But these are small things. Things that can be changed and things that were largely my fault for not mentioning. For every one of these niggles in a bespoke suit there are 10 off the rack.

Over time, as I plan to go back when I return to Hong Kong in November (the mind already plays over the possibilities – overcoat, tweed suit, Prince-of-Wales check?) these additional adjustments will become second nature. I haven’t had suits made for me for very long. And, importantly, as Mr Tam now has my paper patterns in his files I don’t have to remember anything I previously specified, just the little improvements.

My thanks to Edward for his efforts. If anyone would like his contact details they are more than welcome. I’m sure he is not the best tailor in Hong Kong, but he comes recommended by me in a city where they are 10 a penny.

Cardigans: Sartorial MVPs

For something that has long been associated with school teachers and grandparents, the cardigan has really turned a corner. While it is certainly still a ‘trend’ item, making it acceptable for the fashion conscious young men about town, it has also reclaimed status as an item of evergreen style. The thought of buying buttoned knitwear never crossed my mind as a youth. When I was a mere lad of teenage years, the times of uttering ‘fashion’ and ‘cardigan’ in the same sentence were long gone. Absent from the catwalk and the high street, exposure to these garments was limited to fusty outfitters who retailed heavily patterned versions to quiet academics who matched knitwear to their pipes.

It was certainly overdue a revival, and the high street is now chock full of the things. Whereas before the renaissance, when well fitting cardigans in subtle silk-cashmere mixes, or plain and honest cotton, were damn near extinct, they are now everywhere and it is a great time to purchase a good number of them. It seems people have taken this lovable item to their hearts once more and it’s not surprising. The versatility of a cardigan will make you wonder how you ever lived without one. The low v-neck enables you to wear one with a suit and tie on a chilly winter day and, because they are now available in a vast array of colours, there are fantastic opportunities for tonal matching or complementation.

In terms of smartness and formality they sit almost exactly between a v-neck jumper and a waistcoat; they are certainly more elegant than the former and they are often more charming, in an understated style, than the latter. A dark chalk-stripe suit will naturally look imposing with a matching waistcoat, but for a different look, a beautiful light purple cardigan will bring a different quality to the outfit, not to mention a welcome exhibition of colour.

Cardigans, when manufactured in appropriate materials, can be used all year round. I have a silk-cashmere version that never gets a seasonal relegation; it is constantly in use and I have often worn it, in the heat of summer, unbuttoned with a polo shirt, shorts and espadrilles. On warmer spring days, it makes a welcome change to use a cardigan instead of a jacket; with v-necks, I have never been as comfortable using them thus.

In winter, a cardigan will provide warmth and diversity to even the most staid of staid ensembles. Black is a wise colour choice that will also come in useful on summer evenings, but grey and light blue are two choices which will really stand out; the former looks fantastic with dark slim fitting suits, with a white shirt and a dark striped tie whereas the latter, a lovely winter sky blue, looks wonderful with dark and light grey.

Spring and summer colours of cardigan will veer towards the lighter and brighter; white and creams are classic and are agreeable companions for just about anything, blues, yellows and greens are unconventional, especially in strong tones, and will set you apart from the rest of the ‘cardi’ crowd’, but as they will undoubtedly dominate an outfit, it is best to use them with colours easily beaten by their vibrancy such as navy blue, white, brown and black. Wearing competing colours, perhaps in the form of bright red jeans, will certainly catch an eye but such Lego colouring often looks clownish. Cardigans are a wise investment as, no matter how long the glow of the trend lasts, these items will mark their place in the sartorial ‘value-for-money’ hall of fame.