Kilgour recreates Fred Astaire's tails

Just before Christmas I was in Kilgour, taking a look at a few of the new models the tailor is putting out, both in formal ready to wear and under its newly revitalised Bernard Weatherill brand.

During that wander, I got chatting to cutter Del Smith about his Fred Astaire project.

Del had become mildly obsessed over the preceding few months by the white tie that Astaire famously wears in the 1935 film Top Hat. Kilgour French & Stanbury made that suit for Astaire, and it was Del’s wish to try and recreate it.

The germ of the idea was a request from a customer for some rather special tails. Del turned to the film, and became fascinated by the appearance of small technical details that made the tails easier to dance in, including a particularly large sleevehead and exaggerated rope on the shoulder, in order to accommodate the sleeve.

The edges of the waistcoat were also rounded rather than pointed, to prevent them getting in the way of a raised or leaping leg. Archives show these were aspects that Astaire particularly requested for clothes used in this way on screen. The coat was made in a Holland & Sherry Super 130s cloth, woven in a fine herringbone.

It’s a beautiful piece Del, well done.

Steven Hitchcock: a stylish tweed

The Rake is running a few articles at the moment around the theme of families, and particularly fathers and sons. Tailoring is particularly strong ground for these relationships, I suppose because it is so male dominated, because cutting is a solo craft and because of the need for long periods of tutelage.

All of which is fitting because for the past few months I’ve been in the process of talking to Steven Hitchcock – son of Anderson & Sheppard head cutter John Hitchcock – about having a jacket and trousers made. John has cut some of my favourite suits, particularly double-breasteds, and I was interested to experiment with ex-A&S cutters who might be similar in style, but of course cheaper.

Steven’s prices start at £2700 (with VAT), a few hundred short of A&S (which is still very reasonable for the Row). He works out of the ground floor of No 13 Savile Row, along with several other cutters. He also visits New York, though only New York, three times a year – indeed will be there next week.

Steven was at Anderson & Sheppard for nine years, half as a coat maker and half as a cutter, before setting up on his own in 1999. He used to have premises on Old Burlington Street, moving when it was demolished, and then at 13 New Burlington Street, which was also redeveloped. His workmates at 13 Savile Row seem remarkably calm given Steven’s track record with buildings and unlucky numbers.

Steven’s style is very much soft tailoring the A&S way. The only differences we discussed were the attitude to darts that run the length of the forepart – perhaps less attractive but then perhaps needed for larger gentlemen – and a greater flexibility around construction and style. We were to aim, for example, for the shoulders of the jacket to be particularly soft and added the style detail of gauntlet cuffs on the sleeves. I think John would raise an eyebrow to gauntlet cuffs.

We picked a pale blue tweed from Holland & Sherry – the SherryTweed bunch – that comes in at just 11 ounces. The trousers, which will probably not be worn with the jacket but rather fill a hole in the wardrobe, will be in an olive green moleskin.

Photography: Les Topham-Brown

Permanent Style growth

I finally got round to looking at the analytics last week, and it appears that the traffic on Permanent Style has grown from 140,000 visitors a month to an average of 190,000 without me noticing.

The peak in September and increase in visitors from Japan suggests a certain 'icon' feature may have had something to do with it, but I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their support over the past five years. I do hope you continue to like it, and don't forget to check out The Rake online now as well.

Simon

Buy good English shoes

Good English shoes are pretty much always worth the money you pay for them. Three things reminded me of this in recent weeks.

One was a friend’s wedding. After years of buying in the low end of the market, he bought a pair from Crockett & Jones to get married in. I was staggered how good they looked on him. Dark brown Oxfords with a toe cap but no broguing, they were a shining example of how poor the average quality is of men’s shoes. Crockett & Jones are not very expensive, certainly by the standards of some of the brands on this blog, but they looked a million dollars.

Second, a colleague was bemoaning the state of his work shoes and how he needed a new pair. They were cheap, pointy, glued ones from Jones or some such. Because they are made with a corrected grain, the scuffs took away any pretense at leather on the surface. Because they had no internal structure, they curled up at the ends. He’d had them a year.

The third thing was the string of comments on recent posts about bespoke and made-to-order shoes from Gaziano & Girling and Cleverley. I realise that for many men these are not viable options at £1000 to £2000. But I hope they illustrate the beauty of English shoes, and provide inspiration for buying good, ready-to-made models. I will make a conscious effort to reiterate this in future posts.

Crockett & Jones shoes cost £300-and-something. A glued pair from Jones costs around £100. The former will last five years easily, with a resoling or two, while the latter looked terrible after a few months and trash-worthy after a year. Which do you think are better value?

I have my favourite English brands. Edward Green and Alfred Sargent are among them, plus the bespoke makers already mentioned. But as I’ve said before, with English shoemakers you generally get what you pay for (I can’t speak for those whose prices are decided by an Italian fashion label).

It has been suggested that I don’t like Barker (standard range) shoes. This is not true. They make great shoes. I would always prefer someone buy Barker than an imported, glued pair, and they will last much better. But more expensive English shoes will be better quality, and if you’re going to spend £1000 on a suit I think you should spend up to half of that on your shoes. The shoes will be more versatile as well.

Buy good shoes, don’t wear them every day, put shoe trees in them and brush them down after use – you will actually save time in less-frequent polishing. As far as retail outlets go, John Rushton just off Oxford Street is always worth a shout.

In Northampton we have the greatest hub of quality shoemaking in the world. It’s time more people took advantage of it.

Images: Edward Green

London screening of O'Mast

On February 2 there will be a screening of O'Mast, mentioned here before, a beautiful film about Neapolitan tailoring that has only previously been shown in New York. It is being run by B.B. Esq and will take place at the Rook & Raven gallery, near Tottenham Court Road.

More details on the B.B. Esq site.

Gaziano & Girling: Deco - the shoes

It should have been obvious from my piece back in May on Gaziano & Girling's new Deco line that I would be very tempted by them, and this is the result a few months later.

They are gorgeous shoes, whole-cut Oxfords in a luscious black calf. Apart from a light bit of bleaching on the toe, the styling is kept to the last and waist treatment. But what style. A narrow rounded waist spreads flauntingly into a square sole, creating the so-called spade effect. The toe box is long, though the shoe is also deceptively wide across the vamp.

That is probably where I went slightly wrong with the sizing. I was concerned that the last would be too narrow, and so went for a 9 rather than my normal 8 1/2. As a result the shoes are a little too big. You can see that in the wearing (about a dozen wears so far) they are creasing in a few different lines on the vamp. That's always a risk with whole-cuts, of course, but it is exacerbated in this case.

The style itself will not be to everyone's taste. For me, they are a wonderfully sharp alternative to more classic, subtle business shoes like the Cleverleys I wrote about last week. Perhaps with silk laces for black tie, rather than meetings. Then again, even those Cleverleys are sharper than the more square-toed Cleverleys I got in the sale two years ago.

Incidentally, in the picture above you can get a better sense of the 'gap' around the waist that gives shoes such as these such delicacy - as I referred to in that Cleverley piece last week. That's the most exciting aesthetic thing about bespoke shoes, for me.

For more details on Deco, see feature here.

How great things age: Tod's driving shoes

For the next in my series on How Great Things Age, here are my beloved gommino driving shoes from Tod's.

I've had them for three years and wear them almost every day. They are my default shoe when I come home from work and usually for any time around the house at the weekend. Given this intensive wear, they have worn very well. No stitches loose, no cracks in the leather and they have become more and more comfortable over time.

Of course I look after them pretty well in other respects. They get a coat of shoe cream every month or two that refreshes the skin and prevents any chance of drying out. The difference is particularly marked on the sole, which can start to crack otherwise. You see them here just before they get another coat of cream.

I do occasionally wear them outside - when popping across the road to get milk for instance (with two kids under four this is a frequent errand) - but try to keep this to a minimum as the detrimental effects on the leather around the heel are obvious.

Tod's driving shoes are handmade in most respects, but then then there isn't much to the construction really. A layer of rubber nubbins (the gommini) is inserted through the leather body of the shoe, an internal rubber layer added on top and then a leather insole. The vamp is sewn by hand around the front; all other sewing around the tongue and collar is by hand-guided machine.

The quality is in the materials and the quality control, as with many luxury products (socks being a recent example cited here on the blog). They are all made in Italy's Cassette d'Ete, the town were Tod's head Diego Della Valle was born and both his grandfather and father worked (the former a cobbler). Tod's talks a lot about the more than 100 steps involved in making a pair; a good portion of this is management and quality control.

Let's close with a rather pertinent quote from Della Valle: "If you examine the iconic products around the world, whether a watch, a pair of sunglasses or a pair of shoes, there is a simple test to their authenticity. Do they become more charming as they get older? I love to see a man wearing a very old Rolex that he got when he was young and made his first money. To see how it has aged with him, how it has shaped his experiences - that is real elegance."

And that is the reason that, so far, I have resisted buying a second pair of Tod's driving shoes.

For more in this series on How Great Things Age see:

Bentley Antiques
Dunhill box
Globe Trotter luggage
Edward Green shoes

Five tips on pocket handkerchiefs

I love the fact that more men are wearing pocket handkerchiefs. It’s a great avenue for expression and way to wear colour when so many men dispense with a tie. But it is also dangerous. It is unusual, and therefore stands out. If not done right it can undermine any suggestions of style elsewhere. Hence, five tips on handkerchiefs.

1 Stuff it. Even if you prefer a square top to the handkerchief when it peeps out of your breast pocket, stuff it in. Just fold it into a square and then stuff it in.

Don’t attempt a razor-sharp thin white line – the so-called TV fold. It looks good in Mad Men because everything about them is that sharp and that groomed. Until you have your suits made for you and pressed every morning, and preferably have your own make-up department, stuff your handkerchief. It should look like it’s meant to be used anyway.

2 Assuming you’re not also wearing a tie, think of the colour of your handkerchief in the same way as your tie. The same dark colours and simple patterns worn just as well. It doesn’t have to be bright.

If you are also wearing a tie, the colour of the handkerchief can pick up on a minor colour in the tie, shirt or anything else. Or pick up on nothing, just harmonise with the other colours (in the same way the tie does).

3 The key to stopping the handkerchief falling down inside the pocket is to make sure part of it is touching the bottom of the pocket. Stuff it in until it touches, then pull out what you need. The Lazy Fold is a good way to achieve this.

4 The only real quality consideration in a handkerchief is that the edges should be hand-rolled: turned and secured with broadly spaced stitches. If there is a straight line of thread joining these stitches, that is a machine imitation of a hand roll.

Beyond that, the handkerchief just needs to be big enough. There is little difference in the quality of the silks.

5 Try wool. Or wool/silk mixes. Silk can be too flashy for some, as can white linen. Wool takes the shine off things, like the pattern shown at top (on sale at Drake’s) and can be both more casual and quietly sophisticated. Traditionally goes well with rough country cloths like tweed, but also a nice change of pace with a worsted business suit.