How to buy luxury: Notebooks

Those familiar with my How to Buy Luxury series will remember that I have a few straightforward guidelines for buying luxury effectively. (Here luxury will be defined as whatever is just beyond the top end of your budget – go on, be a little irresponsible!) Those guidelines are: buy quality, buy classic and buy everyday.

Taking them in reverse order, whenever a man is considering spending a lot of money on an item he should consider how often he will use the item, how likely he is to go off it and how much it will repay the investment over time.

It’s worth buying a really expensive pair of brown leather shoes if you will wear them both casually and formally, if they are a simple, classic design unlikely to be affected by the vagaries of fashion, and if looking after them will make them last years and years.

For a man, this is most satisfying because it makes you feel you’ve got value for money. Not for you the seasonal fripperies of the new hot handbag. You invest; you spend your money wisely.

My most recent acquisition in this category was a good leather notebook. Now, in order to fulfil the luxury tests, this had to be a notebook that could be refilled. Otherwise it was unlikely to last more than a few months. It also had to be a notebook that I would use at work and at home, to ensure I would get maximum use out of it. So it had to be a little conservative, suitable for business.

Not many places do luxury stationary, and most do not offer refillable notebooks. The real top end is ludicrously expensive – Smythson, for example, has some really gorgeous writing folders in chocolate crocodile skin (sounds tasty, doesn’t it?). But they start at £280. That’s a little too irresponsible.

Eventually I found the solution: the Hermes Ulysse notebook. Hermes was not one of my first ports of call. I assumed most would be in the Smythson price range, and indeed the agenda covers start at £195 and go up above £400. But Ulysse notebooks are cheaper because they are simpler – just one length of leather that the refills snap onto. Full price is £125. In the summer sale, £85.

That’s still a lot for a notebook. But it is something I will use everyday at work, every weekend at home and for notes when I am travelling. Indeed, the advantage of the snap-in refills is that you can easily swap around different pads of paper for different uses. It will be blank when I’m travelling, for sketching as well as writing, and lined for notes at work.

Great quality, classic (dark brown, not the green illustrated) and everyday. The pleasure it will give being taken out in meeting after meeting will quickly make it value for money. Just like the fountain pen, just like the briefcase it sits in. That’s how to buy luxury.

On double-breasted waistcoats

It’s always nice when fashion coincides with personal taste. Makes you feel like the whole world is coming around to your way of thinking. Waistcoats are current example.

Patterned waistcoats are an abomination, unless you’re going to the races. And even then you’d be better off in smart three-piece tails. (Perhaps in pale grey, to set oneself apart.)

Waistcoats, equally, need to fit well. If your trousers are worn on the hips, as most are today, the waistcoat must be long-fitting. No shirt material should ever be exposed between waistcoat and trousers. For that reason and because of the unsightly bulge, belts should also be avoided.

Lastly, waistcoats should if possible be made to measure. They are the hardest piece of clothing for a tailor to make and ready-to-wear will rarely fit well. To illustrate: I recently had a suit made by my tailor in Hong Kong, the first I have had from him without a fitting out there first. I was pleased with the result, but he refused to make a waistcoat in this way, remotely, without being able to see it on me and adjust it accordingly. Good for him and his principles. He’ll have to wait until I am out there in November to make the third piece in the three piece.

That waistcoat will be double-breasted. And this is the central point of this posting. Double-breasted waistcoats are not just for weddings, white tie or the whimsical. They are a regular alternative in the three-piece suit, and to my eye always look cleaner and smarter. The long row of buttons up the front of a single-breasted waistcoat can look rather bulky, and lead to a rather high, 1960s-style fastening.

The double-breasted waistcoat, by contrast, has a low, sweeping line that creates a clean V behind the jacket front. There is no cluttering of buttons.

Even though the height of a waistcoat should be no more than an inch (probably a single button) above the top button of the jacket, the prevalence of three-button jackets means that in reality two or three will be exposed – as usually only the jacket’s central, waist button will be fastened.

One or two-button jackets will permit waistcoats with deeper Vs and therefore fewer buttons, but the ratio between jacket and waistcoat buttons is likely to be even more disproportionate (one to three, say, rather than three to five).

Colour and material, of course, are paramount. A double-breasted waistcoat is unusual and should be done in plain (usual) tones and wools. I’d recommend dark grey worsted, navy being a little dressier.

Given the recommendations of The Waistcoat Theory (see previous postings), there is a good chance this waistcoat will end up being worn without its jacket, which is all the more reason why it should be able to shine on its own. And we wouldn’t want to be too fashionable, would we?

Report from Moscow

Moscow is the most capitalist city in the world. Ironic, but true. The only thing that reminds one of communist times is the metro system, all monumental marble and statues of Chekhov. The rest of the city is a grubby struggle for money, from chic bars to rising crime.

The first thing that strikes the potential shopper in Moscow (as I was last week, there on a three-day business trip) is the Russia premium. Most designer brands in Moscow, St Petersburg and elsewhere add somewhere between 20% and 40% on top of their prices for the Russian market. An Etro suit that costs £600 in London, for example, was priced in Moscow at the equivalent of £780.

It used to be said that a similar premium operated in Tokyo, but that was before a decade of stagflation took some of the oomph out of the retail market. Luxury is still big business in Japan (as evidence by Dunhill’s new flagship store that is part shop, part bar), but it is luxury that everyone aspires to, no matter what their income, and luxury that has adapted itself to a very changed retail market.

Russia is more like Dubai. Although there is nothing like the same premium in the UAE, the shoppers on offer are similarly bifurcated: the only people that go into Moscow’s shopping malls are the ones with lots of money. They don’t use the metro and they don’t carry their own bags. So luxury brands can charge them a premium. They are not cost-conscious shoppers.

There are advantages to be a luxury target. Yes, you pay more, but the shops are bigger and better. The main Etro store, for example, had the only full home furnishings section I have ever seen. You don’t get paisley tea cups and leather-bound photo albums in Milan or Florence. Brands will always prioritise towards people who pay little attention to the price tag.

So despite a few pleasant hours exploring the shops (and a heart-stopping moment when I saw a pair of Artioli shoes for 1000 roubles, only to find out the price was actually in euros) I didn’t end up buying anything. Probably a first for a business trip.

The less said about what most Russians actually wear the better. So to be brief: the ordinary working man strolls out in a 1980s BHS catalogue; the rich oligarch prefers the flashiest white suits he can find. And the less his girlfriend is wearing, the better. Oh dear.

Reader question: Upgrading shirts

Chris (Westie): I want to move on from wearing M&S/Next shirts that don’t fit me properly. Would my next step be to go straight to a tailor? How much can I expect to spend and do I need to know what kind of material and colour or pattern I want?

Going straight to a tailor is always going to be the preferred option if you can find one that is easily accessible and not too expensive. I couldn’t afford the majority of tailor-made shirts in London. The cheapest I have found are at SuitSupply for individual shirts (around £80) and at Brooks Brothers for bulk orders (around £70). Both are too expensive for me to use as my regular shirt suppliers.

I was fortunate enough to go to Hong Kong a few times on business, and having now had my measurements taken by a reliable tailor there, and had them adjusted a few times, I have a reliable source of new shirts that fit well and cost around £25, which is much more reasonable. This is the option to go for if you can find a comparable service – but I’m aware that may not be possible.

There are options to have shirts made to measure over the internet. Manning & Manning over at www.shirts-custom.com is one example. However, I have never tried any of these services and so cannot vouch for them. What’s more, I wouldn’t trust myself to measure myself. Something is bound to be altered in the very act of measuring, rather like quantum mechanics. And getting someone else to do it might be even worse. Better to have a proper tailor involved.

So, Chris, your next best option is to spend a lot of time trying on shirts in slightly more upmarket shops. This will take a while but is worth it. Think about the experience as all the shopping you’ll ever have to do, rolled into one weekend.

Essentially, every brand will cut their shirts in a slightly different shape, with the width of the neck being the only constant. Try each of them on and you will eventually find one that fits you pretty well. Here is a rundown of my experience of mid-range shirts in London:

Massimo Dutti – Some of the best shirts for value for money. Two lines around either £40 or £60. There are more tailored options, as well. Rather too short in the tails, but that is inevitable these days as manufacturers want to save money by using less material, and men often want to wear their shirts untucked and therefore do not want dress-length tails.

Reiss – Some nice shirts but a very slim fit. Many fit me well around the waist but are too tight across the chest. Collars also a little too large for my taste. Also rather expensive – usually £60 to £80. You might as well order a bunch of made-to-measure shirts for that price.

Hackett – Probably my favourite off-the-peg shirts that I still own. Good quality. Could be a little narrower in the waist but not bad considering. Also a little short in the tails. £50 to £70.

TM Lewin – Again, good value. In the sales often reduced to £25. And there’s always a sale. Good long tails but far too large in the waist for me. They now have a semi-fitted line but I haven’t tried them. £25 to £50.

I hope this is useful, Chris. Another option would be to go to a department store and try on a lot of different brands. Stand in front of three mirrors, to show you every angle. And bring a girlfriend with you, or a man with at least as much interest in clothes as you. Looking at the folds across your back will be key (see my posts on the fit of a suit).

Reader question: Office casual, part 2

[In the first part of this post, I answered a query from Ed about how to dress up at work while remaining a little casual – getting interested in dressier clothes without going all the way to a suit. My first reply dealt with leather shoes and casual ties – a great way to dress up jeans and still look casual.]

The second part of this post will deal with jackets and trousers.

Now, one commentator on the first part suggested that the real progression for dressing up should be: shoes, shirts, trousers, jackets, ties, suits; in that order. Ed will already be focusing on the first two, but how one deals with the next three is really a matter of personal choice and experimentation.

If we reversed trousers and jackets in that suggested order, I would describe it as a straightforward and traditional scale (these days I think a smarter jacket, say in flannel or cotton, is a much more realistic step to take before smartening up your trousers – both can look great with jeans).

However, the suggestion I made to Ed regarding shoes and ties was not a traditional one. It is a personal preference, and one that is more suited to a younger audience – it is probably more fashionable as well. Having spoken to Ed, I know this is something that will suit him better.

But it is only one suggestion. And tying yourself into any kind of rigid order is both depressing and suppressing – it discourages that experimentation you were keen to try in the first place.

So on Monday Ed might opt for a wool tie and brown brogues, under a casual coat, with jeans. On Tuesday he may go for a smarter, odd jacket – in camel hair, say – and dispense with the tie. Perhaps pairing it with suede shoes if the weather’s nice. Wednesday could witness a flirtation with tweed trousers.

The point is to achieve the right balance of casual and formal that Ed is looking for overall while always looking for variation. A friend remarked to me recently that surely wool ties should go with odd jackets (sports jackets to American readers). Well, yes, traditionally they should, but wear those two with corduroy trousers and red socks and you’ll look like a stereotype – a costume of a country gentleman (see previous posting When Style Becomes Costume). Tradition only takes you so far.

The beauty of men’s style is taking some of these elements and mixing them up; making them your own, while always keeping in mind the reasons they went together originally. Here, every element of the country gentleman’s outfit is united by being more casual than the city suit. So if you want to make an outfit more casual, insert one of these items – a wool tie with a suit, for example.

Keep the reasons for tradition in mind and you can’t go far wrong. This is what is meant by breaking the rules.

Given this, I think Ed will be able to make a decent stab and what jackets and trousers I will suggest if he wants to vary his slightly dressed up look. (Hint: Go for more casual materials, never worsted wool.)

Reader question: Office casual, part 1

Ed, London: Office attire where I work is very casual – a lot of jeans and t-shirts, with only very senior people wearing suits. I’d like to incorporate some more formal or dressy items into my work attire but don’t want to stand out too much. What would you suggest?

I’d start with ties and shoes. Retain the casual benchmark that is a pair of jeans, and try adding smarter shoes and/or knitted ties.

Leather shoes are a whole world of joy, as I’m sure you’ll have realised if you’ve read this blog for very long. Many collectors of upmarket shoes wear them as much with jeans as suits, and doing so gives you a greater range of choices. If you’re going to opt for leather shoes with jeans, bear the following things in mind:

- Shoes with greater bulk or pattern are more casual. So go for brogues or wing-tips. The heavier look of patterned and layered leather shoes makes them sit more comfortably with heavy materials like flannel and denim.
- Suede is a lovely casual option but can be hard to maintain. Make your second or third pair of smart shoes a brown or ginger leather. That way you always have an alternative if it looks a bit wet out (don’t wear suede in the rain if you can help it).
- Go for brown. Whether chocolate, tan or blond, brown shoes will go best with jeans. Black makes you look like a schoolboy and other colours can be hard to wear effectively. (My only exception is red leather, which I think can look great with indigo denim.) Broadly speaking, the darker the brown the darker the jeans should be. But there is much greater flexibility here than with suits.
- Get a good-quality leather belt in a similar hue to wear with your shoes. Again, there is greater flexibility than with suits as to matching the shoes to the belt. But try and find something similar (two browns should be sufficient for all shades of shoe).

Next, ties. Wear a well-fitting shirt with the jeans (all important considering that there will likely be no jacket to cover the shirt). It should fit well both at the waist and at the neck – nothing would remove this outfit’s crispness more than an undone shirt collar.

For ties, anything is good apart from regular silk. Wool works well, as the duller texture suits the trousers and shoes more than silk – which complements polished shoes and worsted wool far better. Particularly good are the narrower, square-ended wool ties.

In that same vein, knitted silk can also work well. It has a shinier hue but the texture makes it inherently more casual. Also cottons or cotton/silk mixes.

This gives you two fantastic areas of menswear to plunder. It should go without saying that the jeans should be traditional and straight cut. No drainpipes or flares please.

(I’m warming to this subject. The next post will explain why textures are the key to getting Ed’s combinations right when he wants to add a jacket or vary the trousers.)

Introducing the Lazy Fold

Sometimes, just occasionally, I change my mind. While the didactic style of some of these postings might suggest a singleness of purpose, an almost obstinate point of view, I am open to the possibility of evolution. The stuffing of a handkerchief is one such occasion.

In one of my earliest posts on this blog, Tips on Stuffing, I outlined the three most popular ways to arrange a silk handkerchief: pulling the centre to the bottom of the pocket, thus exposing the points; vice versa, exposing the puff; and combining the two by folding the handkerchief in half, displaying both the centre and points.

I used to be a puff person. Exposing the points seemed a little affected except on a special occasion (my wedding, for example, though that was a linen handkerchief). And the folded, combination option does not leave anything at the bottom of the pocket and therefore tends to slip down during the day.

The puff was practical by comparison and a little more understated. However, it had a number of weaknesses, chief amongst which was that differently sized hankies would puff at different heights out of the pocket. The tips could be folded down inside the pocket in order to adjust the height, but that rather defeats the simplicity of the technique and could take a few attempts to get just right.

Instead I revert to what I have christened the Lazy Fold. Stuff one corner of the handkerchief into the pocket until you feel it touch the bottom. Then fold over the rest and stuff it behind, leaving as much silk exposed as you desire.

It’s easy but surprisingly effective. Height is easier to adjust, it’s quick and it never has to be done more than once. What’s more, the fold you create above the pocket is slightly different every time, creasing in a different place. This creates a more casual, less studied look. (Something you want to strive to do with a handkerchief as it will look, to most, rather studied already.)

As a footnote, I also find that if I want to highlight the border pattern of the handkerchief a fold is better than a stuff. This is in direct contrast with my previous posting, which advocated exposing the tips to achieve this effect, and relegated folding to cotton or woollen handkerchiefs.

That is the traditional approach. But in this case I believe I was (whisper it) wrong. It is very hard to display the points of a silk handkerchief without it appearing affected, at least in a business setting – which is where I would be wearing mine almost exclusively.

Try a normal TV Fold instead, with the edges uppermost; it is more subtle. I consider myself evolved.

Shorten your sleeves

I do not have short arms. In fact I’ve always thought them a little long if anything; average at the very least.

Yet every suit I buy has arms that are an inch too long. Surely the rest of the male population with a 40-inch chest can’t have arms that are that much longer?

The truth is, they don’t. Suits are just manufactured with longer arms than average because few men notice that their sleeves are too long. They’d notice if they were too short, as there would be a startling excess of cuff. But an inch or two too long goes unnoticed.

It’s the same with a jacket’s waist. Every off-the-peg jacket is made with a waist that is far bigger than the average for a man of that chest size. Because many thin men don’t notice that it’s too big about the waist. They don’t even do the jacket up most of the time. Yet fat men notice when the waist is too small. The physical discomfort ensures it.

Now I can just buy a 40 short, when the retailer offers it. The jacket will be shorter as well, but I generally prefer that style anyway. But if my arms are longer than average and I’m on the 40 short, what does everyone do that has shorter arms?

They don’t do anything. They let their sleeves be too long and as a result lose one of the joys of formal dressing – that colour combination that occurs at the end of the arm where cuff peeks out of jacket sleeve. If the sleeves are the correct length (shirt stopping at the base of the thumb, jacket at the wrist bone – when arms are at your side) there is a lovely dash of colour at the end of the arm that serves to flatter and highlight its length. It is one of the style loci (see previous post).

A sleeve that is one inch longer than it should be is just enough to cover the shirt cuff, but not enough to look wrong to the untrained eye. So men do not have it altered.

They should do. It is cheap to change, probably around £15 to £20 depending on your tailor – and assuming the jacket does not have working buttonholes. If it doesn’t have buttonholes the tailor can shorten the arm and move one button from the bottom to the top of the row. If it does, the shortening has to be done from the shoulder, with the whole sleeve being unsewn from the main body, shortened and reattached. That will be more like £35 to £40.

If you can change it cheaply, do. It’s another one of those little things that makes a big difference to how an outfit looks.

The logical jacket

It always gets hotter in the afternoon in this office. I don’t know whether the air conditioning is just tired, or the whole building is warming up after a day’s sunshine, but around 3pm it starts to get a little stuffy.

Today, joyously, it’s 3pm, I’m wearing a jacket, and I’m comfortable. The jacket is unstructured, cotton and half lined. It’s the lightest jacket I’ve ever worn by some distance – indeed, many would refer to it as a shirt jacket, I believe. But it’s produced an alternative to The Logical Waistcoat Theory.

For those who missed the original post on this topic, the problem addressed by the Waistcoat Theory was that air conditioning and central heating have made the jacket, whether suit or odd, largely redundant. Office workers take off their jacket when they get in, put it on the back of their chair and only put it on again when they go outside. Indeed, they might not even put it on then if it is a warm day; and if it’s a cold day they might prefer an overcoat.

The jacket is rarely worn, meaning that the suit is rarely worn in its entirety and loses many of its flattering aspects. There is also more pressure on the shirt fitting well, the tie is dragged out of its normal position and loses a little of its elegance, and most depressingly, people just don’t wear jackets – probably the most satisfying and defining aspect of menswear.

The advertising for suits looks a little silly all of a sudden, given that men only wear that full outfit for a small proportion of their day.

The waistcoat is a possible solution, as it is easier to wear all day long. It is elegant, keeps the tie tucked in, lengthens the silhouette and can be worked in at a desk quite comfortably.

The lighter jacket is another solution; one which is likely to find greater appeal I’m sure, given that some still have prejudices against the waistcoat. These half-lined jackets have been quite prevalent the last two summers, and can be picked up at many of the top-line retailers. Mine was found in the summer sale at Aquascutum, in navy and double-breasted.

(Regular readers will note that my declaration to never buy off-the-peg jackets did not last long. My only defence is that it was very good value, being 70% off, and would have been hard to get made by a tailor used to worsted suits and little else.)

Despite only being sold in the summer, these cotton jackets should be worn the whole year in my opinion. The key is for an office-worker to think of his outfit in two senses – what he wears inside and what outside. The cotton jacket is a way to make the inside outfit more dressy and flattering, as is the waistcoat. Outside an overcoat or not can be added depending on the weather.

A dreamed-up tie tuck

As has often been lamented on this site, ties don’t perform the role they once did. Waistcoats are worn less, jackets are largely taken off when working, and even when jackets are worn they are frequently left unbuttoned. As a result, the tie has lost its place as a pert little dash of silk at the top of an outfit. Without the constraint of waistcoat or jacket, it flops, it twists and it waves.

There are a few posited solutions. You could wear your jacket more or bloody-well do it up; but I am unlikely to change people’s habits here. You could tuck it into the shirt; but this, while perhaps fashionable, is too much a quirk for most. You could switch to bow ties, which I know many do, particularly in jobs where they are often unable to wear a jacket. At least a bow tie remains consistently spruce and taut.

Most obviously, you could wear a tie clip. This can look stylish if done well, though apparently it should always be worn at an angle, rather than parallel to the floor (I can see why this might be more flattering – a horizontal rarely benefits an outfit, unless it is a handkerchief). Tie clips, however, often seem to be strangling a tie. Yes, the top half is now pert, but the bottom half is contorted and – if you listen very closely – emits a small choking sound.

A local tailor around here solves this problem, I have noticed, by wearing a vertical tie pin that enters the tie and then emerges again two inches lower, fastened with a small silver ball. This certainly spreads the area of pressure, reducing contortion, but it does also mean piercing the tie, twice. It’s not something I am eager to try without greater knowledge as to how one avoids damage to the tie.

So, having dismissed all other options, we come to a little something I dreamed up yesterday. Here’s how it works. Tie your tie as normal, then take the rear blade and loop it underneath one of the buttons on your shirt (the third one seems to work well for me) so it emerges from the shirt again on the other side of the button. Then tuck the rear blade into the loop of silk normally attached to the front blade.

The rear blade will be in its normal position, tucked into this silk loop and thus attached to the front blade. But is also anchored to the shirt a little further down, reducing flap, twist and wave.

Having experimented with a few ties, the effectiveness of this technique seems to vary considerably with the height of the silk loop on the front blade. Whatever its position, though, pick a shirt button that is as close to the loop as possible.

Have fun.

Socks show whether you care

I always liked the saying “If you want to know if a man is well-dressed, look down.” But while this refers to footwear, and it can tell you a lot about how well-dressed a man is, I prefer to consider his socks.

A man’s shoes tell you about how much money he spends, perhaps about his taste and certainly about how well he looks after his clothes. A man with well-turned, well-polished brown brogues under his blue suit demonstrates a certain interest and investment in what he wears.

But socks tell you something different. Socks tell you immediately whether someone can be bothered. In the City, most suits are dark. Most men wear black shoes. So if they wear black socks every day, they will look smart, professional and have to spend absolutely no time in the morning thinking about their socks.

If, on the other hand, a City man decides to wear socks that match his suit, he will need at least three colours – grey, blue and black (yes, a depressing number of City workers still wear black suits). He will be more stylish and his legs will look longer. But he will need enough of each colour to make sure he doesn’t run out, and a certain time will be needed tin the morning to select the right pair. Travelling will take a little more thought as well.

It’s not a big expense, but wearing socks that match your trousers shows you care. Someone boasted to me recently that he always wears a belt that matches his shoes. I asked him what colour his shoes were. He had three black pairs and one brown. And admitted he usually wore brown at the weekend. Not much of an effort to match his belt to them, then.

Socks, on the other hand, take a little effort. Particularly if you get into the world of pattern, and have some stripes, spots etc. Then you have to consider the pattern on your trousers as well (roughly the same guidelines as ties – create contrast in the scale of the pattern). It all takes a little more time.

Colours of course, are another big jump up. Dark red and dark green are often recommended for grey suits. I’ve always liked purples and pinks with navy. And bright red or yellow seem to fit best with tan shoes, in my opinion.

But this is just one of the factors. As soon as you go for colour, the whole outfit has to be borne in mind. Is matching the sock to the tie a little too affected? Is it better if one is patterned? As with a handkerchief, you probably want something that harmonises without matching, but you are likely to have fewer options with socks than handkerchiefs.

Unusual colours are a quantum leap from grey, blue and black. But look out for the man who can be bothered to match his socks to his trousers. It is the best and quickest sign of someone who cares.

This week we broke the 2,500 barrier for the first time, with 2613 visits to Permanent Style during the week August 1 to 7. With monthly numbers over 10,000 already, the total number of hits has been accelerating since February. 

Thank you all for your support and continuing interest. Slowly this online community of writers is producing the journalism that is so lacking in the printed press.

 "Elegance is something that should be whispered and not shouted"

Dario Spadea Pandolfi

"A sartorialist has a firm idea of his personal style. It is personal, understated and does not change with the fashion seasons, or indeed with the years. It is about knowing yourself and personal expression through your clothes." 

Thank you all

Simon

More browsing in tailors

I made a promise to myself after I had my last suit made in Hong Kong that I would never buy another suit off the peg. It fit so much better, was so perfect, that every suit or jacket since has felt awkward.

But it does take a lot of the fun out of browsing. If you don’t buy jackets or suits in shops, or shirts for that matter, and you’ve already bought too many shoes this year, there isn’t much else to look at. Ties, socks and handkerchiefs – that’s about it.

As a result I still find myself wandering into Ralph Lauren and browsing the suit rails. I still stroll down the road to Etro and look through their new season’s jackets. I tell myself it’s for inspiration, to pick up ideas for materials, cuts or quirky details that I can ask my tailor to replicate. But in my heart I know I’ll find something that’s too lovely to turn down. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

With this predicament in mind I have a recommendation for tailors everywhere – kit out your shops with more examples of potential suits. Display the greatest range of cuts, materials and quirky details. Make coming into your tailoring studio as pleasant and inspiring as the best of the retailers. Make it more like a shop.

This would obviously entail a cost – most of those items on display are unlikely to be sold. But every off-the-peg retailer faces similar costs each season when it gets rid of old stock, or sells it at extreme discounts. The costs of occasionally rotating display stock at a tailor would be nowhere near as high.

This strategy would have many advantages, but the biggest would be that more people would come and simply spend time in the shop, looking for inspiration or considering a purchase. It is simply an extension of the mannequins that tailors use in their windows, just like any shop, in order to tempt customers in.

High-street retailers know the value of browsers – it is a painless way to create brand awareness and desire in potential customers. Tailors generally generate business through reputation or word-of-mouth. But how about if you don’t know that many people who use a tailor? How do you get a recommendation then? And how do you know they’ll be right for you?

Wandering into a tailors can be intimidating. They need to break down that fear barrier and encourage people to visit. Much of Savile Row is now better at that than it used to be, encouraging communication and even advertising. But there are still few people who wander in off the street.

Give me somewhere I can browse. You won’t be sorry.

The newsreader look

He was obviously very pleased with his look. And mid-grey was a good choice of odd jacket to go with the blue jeans. The tie was new, and the white shirt was clean and crisp.

But somehow it didn’t work as a casual outfit, not with the jeans and suede shoes.

Can you guess why this outfit didn’t really come off? Let me give you a clue. The jacket was worsted, part of a suit. The tie was silk.

It was, as a friend immediately christened it, the newsreader look: all smart, buttoned-up business on top, casual and relaxed below. (The name of the look referred to the urban myth that all newsreaders wear jeans and trainers below the desk, where the audience can’t see them.)

The contrast between this smart outfit on top and casual below was just too strong. And it was all a question of the materials.

The smooth wool of a suit jacket rarely looks good with jeans. The tie was smooth and silk, obviously fitting well with the jacket but not with the jeans. And the shirt was also wrong – although this was more a question of colour and type (white, Windsor collar with double cuffs).

Each of these pieces on top would have worked better if they had been a more casual version of themselves. The jacket could remain grey, but be made of a rougher material such as flannel, camelhair or linen. The tie could be woollen, or knitted silk, but either way have a surface more akin to the jeans and suede shoes. And the shirt would have been more casual if it was blue, if it had a buttoned-down collar, if it had single cuffs or indeed if it was a rougher cotton, such as an Oxford.

All of these changes in the materials would have made the top half fit with the bottom half.

The outfit didn’t need all of these changes necessarily. Silk ties can work very well with more casual trousers, often if they are lighter in weight or a more casual colour. White shirts can also work well with casual jeans, even if they have more formal collar and cuffs.

But the outfit needed something, it needed one of these things to change. Otherwise it seemed disjointed.

The problem is that men find shifting formal clothes into a casual outfit difficult. They find it so because they concentrate on the colours, or on an established formal combinations that they know works.

To them I say – concentrate on the materials, on how rough or smooth they are. After that you can’t go too far wrong.

How to look after your suits

Many people look after their suits badly. This may seem obvious. After all men hang their suits on pegs, leave them on the floor after a day’s wear and occasionally bundle them into bags. For the most expensive piece of clothing a man owns, it is generally not treated well. But the biggest mistake he makes is dry cleaning his suits too often.

The chemicals in the dry cleaning process damage natural fibres of wool or cotton, thinning and weakening them. Over time the material at stress points such as the crotch and elbows will wear down. Dry cleaning is still the most effective, indeed really the only effective way to get dirt out of these materials. But often the suits simply aren’t dirty.

Any dirt that does accumulate during a day’s wear can easily be brushed off in the evening. Simply hang up your jacket and trousers and brush them a few times with a soft-bristled brush. This removes the specks of dirt before they can get ground into the material through wearing or pressing.

Suits brushed this way after use should only need to be dry-cleaned twice a year. Some enthusiasts recommend only dry cleaning your suit before it is stored away for the season – so once a year – but this rather suggests that they own more suits than the average man, meaning few uses of the suit each week, and only wear a suit for six months of the year, again suggesting less use.

Dry cleaning twice a year should be sufficient for a suit worn once or twice a week. If you wear a suit more often than that, its lifetime is going to be considerably shortened anyway.

Hang your suit up every night and always leave it for a day before wearing again, to let it recover and drape out its wrinkles naturally. Heavier materials and linen should be left for at least two days.

Many recommend steaming your suit in the morning to remove any last wrinkles. This is often impractical, but it is worth doing occasionally. Buy a portable steamer, or use the steam setting on your iron to puff steam into the material while it is hanging up (make sure it is on a low heat as well). You will sometimes see staff in shops doing this to suits on display, to make them appear crisp and fresh.

If the crease on your trousers also softens over a few weeks, this can be steamed back in with an iron, but again make sure it is on a low heat.

That’s pretty much all you need to do. Store the suits with plenty of space between them in a closet, preferably in cloth suit bags to keep moths away (the brushing out of dirt should also make the material less attractive to the little bleeders). And if you are the kind of man that stores seasonal suits away for six months, make sure they are clean and wrinkle-free before you do so.

A sliding scale of formality

You see quite a few bankers around this part of London wearing driving shoes with their suits. They presumably think they’ve stumbled onto a great thing – like loafers, but different, and in a huge range of colours.

But then they can’t see their suit trousers piled up on the rubber nubbins that driving shoes often have on their heels. To those walking behind them, it looks just as bad as wearing chunky trainers with a suit.

Driving shoes and worsted wool (the smooth wool of most suits) are just too far apart on the formality scale. This is why they look wrong together; why suddenly the shoes make suit trousers look flimsy and insubstantial, a little like pyjamas.

Here is my approximation of the sliding scale of formality:

Shoes Trousers

Wholecut Oxfords - Worsted wool

Toecap Oxfords (quarter brogues) - Worsted wool/linen or cotton

Monk-front shoes - Worsted wool

Half-brogues - Worsted wool/linen or cotton

Derbys (Bluchers) - Flannel/worsted/cords or khakis

Smart slip-ons (Norwegian split-toe) - Worsted/cords or khakis

Full brogues (wingtips) - Flannel/cords

Suede/Nubuck - Anything but worsted

Deck shoes - Cords or khakis/jeans

Driving shoes - Khakis/jeans

[Notes: This list does not include boots, extending above the ankle makes any of these types a notch more casual; neither does it include shorts, as I think they can look good with anything but the top three types of shoe; double soles also make any of these a notch more casual, particularly monk-fronts; patent leather should be reserved for formalwear; cotton is the most versatile material and can be hard to pin down, as jeans can go with all but a few of these shoes, as can khakis arguably.]

These, to me, are the types of shoe (beginning with the most formal and ending at the bottom with the most casual) that most suit a material of trouser.

The more formal and elegant a piece of clothing the more delicate its materials and textures are likely to be. Worsted wool needs shoes with sleek shapes, slim soles and clean designs. Heavier wools need heavier shapes, most obviously flannel with brogues. The rough seams and rubber ridges of driving shoes are more suited to jeans or more casual trousers.

Within this range, combinations can work by going up or down one notch, possibly even two. But the problem of wearing driving shoes with worsted is demonstrated – the two are just too far apart.