Permanent Style cufflinks in gold

Regular readers will be familiar with my Cufflink Project, which I launched last year with bespoke jeweller Diana Maynard.

I was frustrated at the lack of good cufflinks on the market – those with the same decoration on both sides, an easy method of inserting the link, a bar or chain that was short enough, and a subtle but sophisticated style.

The resulting cufflinks were wonderfully received, with dozens being sold through myself on Permanent Style and Kirby Allison’s The Hanger Project. I was grateful for the response and it has led to several collaborations since, including the recent slippers with La Portegna and a few more that will be coming soon.

I tend not to wear silver jewellery, as my wedding band and all my watches are gold. I have therefore had my cufflinks gold-plated – as you can see from the images here. It makes little difference with the pearl links, as the gold bar is largely hidden in the cuff. But the effect is striking on the smoky quartz, and it works well on the labradorite as well.

If anyone is in the same position as me and would like some gold versions from the Cufflink Project, they can be purchased by contacting me or Kirby at The Hanger Project.

Prices are:

• Pearl links (grey, white and peacock) 9ct gold plated - £260
• Cabochon links in either labradorite or (new) quartz - £356
• Set of four pearl dress studs - £457   

Column on We Are The Market

Two months ago I began contributing to fashion site We Are The Market - as a little craft and classicism amongst the high heels and runway trends.

Permanent Style readers might be interested to hear my thoughts on developing a relationship with a tailor and the cost of materials in quality clothes.

The full list of posts can be found here. At the moment I am contributing twice a month.

(Pictured, the ever-gentlemanly Joe Morgan during a forward fitting)

A travel innovation: VBC 1663 Bellagio Rolling Bag

I’ve been travelling for the past two weeks, and while I fold my suits very assiduously (inside out, shoulder into shoulder, around a pair of trousers), they clearly suffered over the multiple journeys.

I have no solution for such long periods of travel – other than carrying a separate garment bag – but I do now have one for shorter trips. I recently bought a VBC 1663 Bellagio Rolling Bag.

VBC stands for Vitale Barberis Canonico, who are of course much better known as a weaving company. But a couple of years ago a chance encounter with some local leather workers led to a project to create a range of luggage.

The quality of the construction, as you’d expect from Barberis, is very good. The stress points are all hand-tacked, including the backs of the handles and the ends of the zips. The long zip, that runs the whole length of the rolling section, is finished with a separate leather guard that is itself hand-tacked. The hardware is all individually cast and the inking is thick – although the seam you can see along the middle of it betrays the fact that each side was done separately.

(For more detail on how to assess the quality of a leather bag, see my column in How to Spend It.)

The most interesting thing about this model in the VBC 1663 series, however, is that it is effectively a suit bag rolled up. As you can see from the image at the top of this post, the bag unzips entirely until you are left with a long section sufficient for two suits – plus pockets on either end for shoes. That section has a hanger built in, like regular suit carriers, and a protective cover. But unlike a suit carrier it rolls up rather than folding, making it far more portable.

The idea for the design came from a desire to avoid taking both a bag and a suit carrier on a plane, Galliano Campana of Vitale Barberis told me: “For short trips, say three or four days, I found it was very uncomfortable to bring both bags. Plus some airlines will only let you take one bag onto the plane.”

“The bags are entirely made in Italy, and we added some little Barberis touches. The linen lining that encases the suit is waterproof and stain-resistant, for example,” adds Galliano.

I have used the bag three times so far and the suits have done very well for being rolled up. There were a few creases when the main compartment of the bag was completely filled, but still fewer than I get with folding them into a hard case. The only disadvantage of the system is that that main compartment has no internal pockets, and of course you have to unpack everything before you can take the suits out.

VBC bags are distributed in the US by cloth merchant Gladson, and are sold by various places online (usually around $1900). They are also sold by Sartoria Vergallo.

Top image: Luke Carby

How to wear socks with a suit: Reader question

Colours that go with tan

Dear Simon,

I'm getting stuck putting an outfit together, and what it comes down to is the socks.

I'm wearing a mid-grey worsted wool suit with a sky-blue shirt and regimental tie of burgundy and navy stripes. The hank/pocket square has a white ground with checks of light blue and wine. The shoes are brown.

I feel if I keep to the grey of the pants for the sock choice, it will be too boring but if I wear socks that are burgundy it will look odd with brown shoes. Do I wear sky blue socks? I don't seem to be arriving at a solution that seems to work well.

Thanks in advance,

Joseph

Spot the matching, and the harmonising

Dear Joseph,

That’s a very specific question. Let’s see if I can give you some general principles and work through those to get a specific answer.

First, you’re thinking along the right lines in picking up a colour from above the waist with your choice of sock. Burgundy could work well, and there’s no reason it won’t go with your brown shoes, particularly if they are dark brown rather than tan.

Burgundy is probably the second most-versatile sock colour after dark green (once you’ve ruled out anything that matches the trouser). Burgundy works best with navy, for me, but may still compliment your grey suit.

Second, grey may not be that boring. It sounds like you’ve already got a lot going on up top, and adding burgundy socks may be a step too far. Coco Chanel had a line about looking in the mirror before you leave the house, and taking off one item. In your case, it may mean swapping the burgundy socks for grey.

In fact, I would say that the most common error I find with readers I meet is that they try to hard. Dial down one item and the chances are you will be better dressed.

The other risk with burgundy socks is that the outfit becomes too ‘matchy-matchy’, too obvious and thought-out. Matching a colour in your tie, shirt or handkerchief is a good place to start, but it’s not the only option. Colours should harmonise with each other, not copy each other.

What do I mean by that? Well, think of another tie or handkerchief that would look good with the combination you described. Would dark green work, or burnt orange? Perhaps even a patterned brown (if different enough from the shoes)? The same colours that would be alternatives for the tie or handkerchief will also work for the socks.

The reason it is a good idea to pick up a minor colour from something else you are wearing is that the designer has already picked that as harmonising with the major colours. He has decided that navy and burgundy are in harmony on your tie, and light blue and wine work like ebony and ivory on your hank.

I hope that helps. If you want to put colours together in an outfit, look at how your favourite brands combine specific shades of colours in their ties, handkerchiefs and anything else.

And I’d go with grey socks.

Simon

Too matchy-matchy?

Images: The Armoury and Opumo

The Dege & Skinner Phitwell jacket, and more on The Rake

Regular readers of The Rake will be pleased to know that I am once again contributing regularly to the website, TheRakeOnline.com. Recent articles include a look at Dege & Skinner's trademarked Phitwell jacket, which incorporates lacing in the back lining of the jacket to help keep its pleats in place.

I have also recently been appointed The Rake's Editor-at-Large.

Photograph: Luke Carby

The Stoll cotton-collar knitter

Fans of traditional weaving and knitwear brands are funny about old machines. They often equate old machinery with superior techniques, when the new machines usually do at least as good a job – just faster. Usually the reason the brand still has old machinery is that new looms or knitting machines are just expensive, sometimes costing hundreds of thousands of pounds.

Fox flannel is no longer finished by bashing it against a wall, for example – as my visit to WT Johnsons witnessed. Most Bresciani socks no longer have handlinked toes – a machine was invented in 2000 that did the job, with no loss of quality. And while touring John Smedley a couple of weeks ago, it became clear that the old fashioning techniques have no inherent advantage. John, our tour guide, said he still thought the quality was better, but colleagues disagreed.

There are some areas of menswear, however, where the demand is relatively small and therefore modern machinery has yet to penetrate. One of those is knitted cotton garments, hence the advantage of this machine. 

It was made by German company Stoll in 1955 for the Smedley factory. No more have been made since. It uses an old-fashioned system of punched wooden slats to input the desired design - similar to the paper cards still used on a lot of other knitting machines, as seen at Bresciani and Corgi (and indeed on mechanical organs).

The machine is used to make the trimmings - collars, cuffs and ribbing - for Smedley’s Sea Island Cotton range. No other machine can make cotton collars. They can’t create the rigidity necessary to support the elongated shape of the old-fashioned Smedley collar, as seen on the Isis and Leander models. Wool trimmings are made on another, more modern machine that works with a different tension. 

As long as Stoll, Shima Seiki and other designers of these machines remain convinced that the market for cotton-collared knitwear is not a lucrative one, this process will remain unique to Smedley. 

And the company can spend its money on £125,000 Shima whole-garment machines instead. 

For anyone tired of Derbyshire-based knitwear, don’t worry - normal service will be resumed on Friday.

The John Smedley drum

This is the drum of the old John Smedley silver band, which sits in the newly opened Smedley archives and is the focus on my favourite anecdote from the factory’s history.

Smedley was known around the region for its silver band – different to a brass band, at least in the early days, in that it could afford silver-plated instruments as well as lacquered, or brass.

In 1912, Smedley workers went out on strike in support of the nationwide coal miners strike – which began in Derbyshire, not far from the Smedley factory. The silver band played in support of the strikers, and as a result John Smedley (the son of the founder, and now the owner) took away its funding.

When John Smedley demanded the band’s drum back, the drummer threw it up into the rafters of the building, declaring “if he wants it he can bloody well get it himself”.

It remained there, in plain view, for over 100 years – until it was taken down at Easter this year to be included in the archives.

And here's a bit of fun, a letter from 1958 (click to enlarge):

Photography: Luke Carby

John Smedley: the factory

Last week I visited the John Smedley factory in Matlock, and it has quickly become my favourite anywhere. The oldest factory in the world still in production, it is nestled in between Derbyshire hills, with a babbling brook (the Lea) running through the middle of it.

The Lea, of course, powered the original mill wheel and was the reason the factory was located here – down the road from the first such factory in the world, Arkwright’s. There is a canal cut through the countryside, which took the cotton (the mills all started as cotton spinners) out for export, and the railway came here for the same reason. This was the start of the industrial revolution, and it is picturesque.

The factory grew and shrunk over the years. It successfully expanded to cope with government contracts during both the first and second world wars. Stand in the middle of the compound and you are surrounded by buildings from 1783, 1844, 1911 and 1950, all cobbled together with various buttresses, balconies and ironwork.

The inside of the factory is a rabbit warren as a result. Four floors, two of which are underground, with lots of half floors and ramps from one to the other. No matter which direction you go in, you end up and a big, central room that has had a section cordoned off because of an oil spillage. Some joker has drawn a chalk outline of a body in the middle of it.

John Smedley has gone through tough times in recent years, with less investment in design and product until Ian McLean took over in 2010. (He is the eighth generation of the family to run the business – can anyone else match that?) Fortunately that is now changing, with the classic collection expanding into slim fits, cashmere/silk mixes and different collar types. The basics stay the same, so men can buy the same pieces season after season, but there are now more options.  

There is also a sleeveless cardigan coming in for A/W 2013 – which commentators on my recent post on such cardigans will welcome.

I always like to think that I care about quality and fit of menswear, to the exclusion of all else. But you can never escape emotion, inspiration and aspiration. The desire to identify with a brand and be part of it – by being a customer. I felt that at John Smedley.

More on the knitting process and the wonderful archive at a later date.

Photos by Luke Carby