A step further in suit alterations

One true hallmark of a bespoke suit is the size of its armholes. Most armholes in ready-to-wear suits (and made-to-measure patterns, to a certain extent) cater for men with larger arms and shoulders, in order to be on the safe side. As with so many other areas of menswear, no one notices when they’re too big, but everyone would notice if they were too small. Smaller armholes are also just harder to make.

As bespoke is cut uniquely for you, the armholes can be as small as you want. And the biggest advantage of small armholes is that the arms can move independently of the body of the jacket, without dragging its chest and back all over the place.

Lift up your arms and see how far the waist button rises (when the jacket is done-up). With a bespoke suit, that movement is vastly reduced. So your collar stays on the back of your neck, your upper body is more consistently shaped by the jacket’s cut, and if you’re Fred Astaire you can dance and wave your arms around while still looking good. (Modern equivalent: it’s much easier to work at a computer for long periods, arms stretched forward.)

This effect is accentuated when a larger sleevehead is eased by hand into that small armhole, as accentuated by tailors such as Anderson & Sheppard and ready-to-wear by brands such as Kiton.

It would be great if a ready-to-wear suit could be altered to have smaller armholes. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. A smaller armhole means extra material under the sleeve and in the body of the jacket – and most suits don’t supply any extra here.

There is, however, a cheat. If you get your tailor to insert a thin extra shoulder pad into each side of the jacket, it lifts up the armholes and effectively makes them smaller – as the pad at the top is taking up some of that armhole space.

The downside is that you have bigger shoulders. But I don’t mind this. As I have sloping shoulders anyway, I tend to ask tailors to build in a slightly heavier shoulder pad. And increasing the padding in a ready-to-wear suit also lifts up the drape of the jacket, removing the folds that collect next to my sleeves in the back (due to those sloping shoulders). So it suits me both ways.

The effect is not the same as a genuinely smaller armhole, of course. The circumference is still the same. But it gets partway there and is certainly an improvement. I wouldn’t recommend it for men with large or square shoulders, and the insert should always be pretty slim, but if you happen to have a similar body type to me, I recommend trying it.

Spotting quality in a tie (at Drake's)

It’s not easy to spot a high-quality tie. Most of the signs that people tell you to look for, such as the loop being sewn in between the folds rather than tacked across, have no real practical benefit. They are just signs that a little more effort has been used (it takes longer, so it’s more expensive to make, so they must have spent money elsewhere).

There are some genuine signs. The slip-stitch down the back must be done by hand – but then that’s the case with many ties these days. Equally, there should be a loop of thread left over at the thin end of the tie, allowing it to stretch and wear along its length over time.

But the real problem is most men can’t assess the quality of silk (probably the most important thing in a tie). It’s also hard to tell whether the silk has been cut on a perfect 45-degree angle. And they can’t even see the interlining – let alone know whether the stitching has joined the lining all the way down, rather than leaving it floating.

All these things will only show themselves in a few years, when a man’s tie twists, curls or the label comes off.

So it’s rather reassuring to see your tie actually being made. This week Michael Drake, of Drake’s in London, was kind enough to take me round the factory and explain each of these manufacturing steps, as well as which ones make a difference to quality and which ones are just aesthetic.

Sewing the loop (on the back of the front blade) in between the folds is aesthetic. So is the size or prominence of the first stitch in the slip stitch down the back. But sewing anything by hand makes a difference to quality – with the slip stitch, for example, it allows flexibility and movement along the tie. That stitch also has to perfectly catch the two sides of the tie, one folded, and connect them to the interlining – never catching the front of the tie. It’s not easy, yet the lovely ladies at Drake’s did it unerringly quickly.

The only parts of a Drake’s tie that are sewn by machine are the joins between the three parts of the body (front, neck and rear) and the tipping. In these cases, sewing by hand would hardly add anything in strength or durability.

Printing is part way between the two. All Drake’s ties are hand-printed using the traditional English method of dye and discharge. This means that the ground colour is discharged into the silk first, creating a background that the pattern is printed on. So the background may be dyed navy and then red spots, say, discharged onto the silk. As the pattern has to discharge through the silk, it is a tricky process – too heavy and it will soak through, too light and it won’t sit in the material.

The alternative, Italian method is sometimes called ‘print-on’. Here the pattern is always printed on a white background. So the navy is printed as a pattern that leaves spaces for the spots; then the red spots are printed in those spaces separately. It is cleaner and easier.

The resulting pattern is sharper and brighter. Think of a classic Ferragamo tie, or an Hermes print – those are done with the Italian method and are generally sharper than English ties.

This is all practical and objective. What is less objective is which looks nicer. Michael describes the English method as “more traditional, classier, antiquey, classical”. And it is certainly what I prefer (though that’s probably because I’ve never been able to stand the ‘irreverent’ animal prints that are Hermes’s signature).

More importantly, this English look is what Drake’s international clients want. The company was started as an export business and that is essentially what it still is. (Incidentially, it also started as a scarf business, and would still make as much money out of scarves were the former not so seasonal). So French and Italian clients want ties that have a traditional English look, which requires dye and discharge.

Indeed, there is an irony here. Many of the Drake’s designs are done with foreign clients in mind. One I particularly liked was a deep orange with alternating blue and brown flowers. Great with a grey suit and brown shoes, not to mention a strong tan. Not so good on a pasty Englishman that tends to avoid strong colour. English printing, Italian patterns.

One reason export has always been so strong for Drake’s is that both France and Italy have a large, conservative establishment that is very international and takes an interest in clothes. England, despite its wonderful history in clothing, tends to either be naff or very fashionable.

It explains why Englishmen uphold the Italians as such good dressers, but many that visit complain that all Italians dress the same. To me, the quirks of Paul Smith are just gimmicks; to others, they are the wonderful individuality of the British male.

The Drake’s Autumn/Winter 2009 collection goes on sale on Wednesday next week. Check it out. (www.drakes-london.com)

Photography: Andy Barnham

Reader question: Taking pictures to the tailors

Amrit: Simon, I am new to your blog but have read your experiences with your Hong Kong tailor with great interest. I really like the double-breated suit by E Tautz in a recent post as well and was wondering to what extent it is advisable to show such pictures of suits you like to tailors

The short answer, Amrit, is that it is very helpful but should be no substitute for personal research.

A picture is useful because it answers questions that the tailor may forget to ask you or you may forget to tell him. It may also help steer him away from a house style. But if you’re not careful, he may take too many cues from that photo – you have to tell him what you don’t want as well!

Let’s start with an example. The E Tautz suit you like (link) is quite shaped, nipped in at the waist with a jacket slightly on the short side. The trousers are also very short and the sleeves are pretty narrow.

If you go to a tailor and give him a long list of requirements – 4×4 fastening, three-inch drop to the lapel from the shoulder seam, 2.5-inch wide lapel, patch pockets (side and chest), working cuffs, half-lined, one rear (buttoned) pocket on the trousers, slanted side pockets on the trousers, roped shoulder, flat-front trousers, uncuffed – you may feel you’ve covered everything he could possibly want to know. It’s such a long list.

But you’ve forgotten to mention the jacket length. He doesn’t know, forgot to ask (perhaps because he has a standard he normally works to) and now can’t ask you. But he has the photo. So he can check that, get an idea of your aesthetic and go for something close.

Having a photo is also useful to avoid that house style or standard that he might work to. Asian suits, for example, tend to be boxy, big in the waist and wide of trouser. If you don’t specify a width to the trousers, he might cut them pretty wide. And even if you’ve specified a width, he might tend towards the more conventional (his conventions) to be on the safe side. Having an image reinforces your point of view and helps convince him that you know what you want.

Give him this photo and you will not get a suit in a typical Asian cut.

However, check carefully for things in the picture you may not want. I commissioned a Norfolk blazer (an invention, really) a while back from my tailor in Hong Kong, and gave him an image to get an idea of the belt I required (link). Unfortunately, he also copied the front corners of the jacket – making them square rather than rounded. That had to be changed at late notice.

Equally with this suit, I doubt you want your trousers quite that short. They’re not even resting on the shoe; they’re a good inch above. Have you thought about whether you want your breast pocket to be patch as well? It’s not a style I like.

So use a picture, yes. But look at it very carefully and make sure you know what you don’t want from that style. There’s no substitute for personal research and knowledge.

A visit to Anderson & Sheppard

In the cutting room at Anderson & Sheppard, under the front table on the right, is a cardboard box with swatches of all the cloths the firm has made up for Prince Charles. It’s secured with two rubber bands; because without them it wouldn’t stay shut. In a way, that is one small illustration of the tailors’ heritage (as well as its client satisfaction). All those patterns, weaves and wools; that have been made into suits, trousers, kilts and overcoats.

Taking up rather more than their fair share of room in the box are two pockets. They are patch pockets that were replaced on one of HRH’s jackets. Why both are kept as a record I don’t know, and didn’t ask. But the texture and colours in the tweed is lovely. Unfortunately, head cutter John Hitchcock pointed out to me that an old, multi-coloured tweed had been replaced by a duller version in the bunch – the variegated original just wasn’t made any more. Such a shame, for I swear it had every colour imaginable in there, in greater or lesser quantity.

Speaking of tweed, if you do get a chance to visit Anderson & Sheppard then look out for their house tweeds hanging up on the left, just before the cutting room. In particular, the blanket of various colour patches that the mill sent A&S so it could pick a few to stock. So attractive is the blanket that one customer had a suit made out of just that material, patches and all.

John Hitchcock was kind enough to give me a short tour last week, which is how I got to rummage around in Charles’s leftovers. Other points of interest included the silk thread used for sewing the jackets (or coats, to be strict) and how the natural stretch of the silk, combined with the hand stitching, creates natural give in the shoulders and chest. It’s pretty hard to break silk thread; by comparison, normal thread snaps like a twig.

All the suits waiting to be collected or fitted are kept on normal, slim wooden hangers. Of course a hanger with more support for the shoulders is recommended for long-term storage, but it does rather undermine the hyperbolic claims made about wide hangers and collapsing shoulders.

And lastly I never knew what determined the roll of a jacket’s lapel. True three-button lapels sit so stiff and square, whatever their canvassing and no matter how it is attached to the jacket front. Apparently, the key is how close the canvas is to the edge of the cloth. Give it room and keep it loose and the lapel will roll easily to whichever button you choose to fasten.

In the image below, the staff are: John Hitchcock, managing director and senior cutter; Colin Heywood, shop manager and sales consultant; Michael McSkimming, accounts; Karl Mathews, sales consultant; and Leon Powell, under cutter.

The coat project 2

My thanks to all of you that either commented here or emailed me about my decision on the polo coat I am having designed at Graham Browne. The response was fairly unanimous: go for double breasted as it best fits the classic style of the coat, and it won’t look too busy because the full pleat and belt will be the other side to the pockets and double breast.

So that’s the final commission. A double-breasted polo coat with raised seams, patch pockets, split sleeve, turn-back cuffs, welted breast pocket and full pleat in the back to be fastened with a one-piece belt.

The belt will be a single, detachable piece that is attached with six buttons sewn onto the coat – three on either side. Although we only need three settings, six buttons are needed to stop any setting being lopsided. (It also gives us half settings if desired at any point.)

The advantage of a detachable piece of fabric is that it can more easily fold the pleat in on itself, rather than create other folds in the fabric near to the side seams. As can be seen on the picture of an Austrian jacket (being made by Graham Browne for a client), a two-piece design necessarily pulls the side seams first, creating unwanted folds. At the coat’s widest setting, a detachable belt will also keep the pleat open. (With this jacket illustrated the pleat and belt are more decorative, so other folds are less of a concern.)

The size of the pleat will be eight inches at the waist (four inches wide when closed, doubling back on itself, to make a total length of eight and the possibility of opening to eight at the coat’s biggest setting). It will flare out towards the bottom, so that there is still ample room to walk when the pleat is closed. Probably with a maximum width of 16 inches in the pleat at the very bottom.

The length of the coat will be a couple of inches below the knee – or as this is often measured, 13.5 inches off the ground. That is still quite long, and the old standard of 11 or 12 inches from the ground would seem very long to most men.

To material. The choices were between camel hair and cashmere, J&J Minnis or Harrisons. The four shades of camel hair available from Harrisons are shown above, with the Minnis options shown at the very top of this piece – the shade I went with being uppermost. The weights are fairly consistent, between 18 and 21 ounces. The tan Minnis that I selected was 20 oz.

Neither cashmere or camel hair are meant to wear well, but as this will not be my first-choice coat for business, and as I often cycle to work, it will not get very heavy wear.

The lining is a cream, heavy twill, of the type usually used for military linings and so very tough. I was tempted by cream buttons as well, but in the end went for the mottled brown you see on the cloth below. Next post at the first fitting in a week. Then we can see how the belt works and how best to fit the shoulders over a big jacket.

Oh, and finally I thought readers might be interested to see the formalwear that Graham Browne is making for the Lord Mayor of London. The front jacket is a new piece that is being made in a lighter-weight fabric for day-to-day wear rather than functions. Behind it is the heavier, formal version.

Reader question: Packing for a trip

Adam: Can you offer some advice on packing for traveling and extended holidays? I will be on a 10-week holiday in western Europe this late summer-fall. I am at a loss as to how many sport coats, shoes etc I should pack. I know that I will be able to do laundry, which helps with some trousers and shirts. Given your obvious propensity for rigor and depth, the type and degree of information I am looking for would be something like: Can you recommend a shoe that is suitable for traveling and walking through museums etc. a lot? Some days will be touristy, while others are less packed. How does one look cool, wear cool shoes and not wear down shoes or kill one’s feet? Trainers/converse just won’t do. (Other questions: how many shoes? Should I bring my polish kit?)

Wow, that’s a lot of questions Adam. Specific advice on what you should take would require more information though – on your taste, formality of dinners or evening events etc. But I can certainly pass on some advice.

First, once you’re away for more than two weeks it doesn’t matter how long you’re away for. The amount of clothes is the same. You just have to look after them better and wash more.

Next, the key to shoes and jackets is to take a range that is flexible and, together, will fit any situation. So, for jackets I would take something like: navy cashmere blazer, checked sports coat (in perhaps a pale grey ground) and a corduroy or Harrington jacket.

The idea is that the blazer would be smart enough for anything, bar the opera; and the corduroy would be rough enough for anything (walk home across a field from a country pub, perhaps). In between these two extremes, they provide variety. And they can be alternated during the day as well – donning the blazer for a nice dinner out, for example.

Three is also a good number for shoes. You need at least two, so they can be alternated every day, and three means they can also be changed in the evening if they’ve had heavy wear.

Again, you want to cover all your bases. So at one end, perhaps a smart pair of Oxford lace-ups in chocolate calf, at the other a pair of desert boots in biscuit suede, and in between something for variety – monk-straps, perhaps, or slip-ons for easy days at the hotel.

These will cover all eventualities unless you want to go running, hiking, to the beach or to a business meeting. Unless there are any formal evening events, you won’t need black shoes. And the desert boots will be rough and ready enough for that walk back from the pub.

As to your more specific questions, a good pair of well-fitting leather shoes should be the best thing to walk around in all day. Lace-ups support you better than slip-ons or boots. And you probably won’t need your shoe-polish kit. Just brush the shoes down every day after you’ve worn them and take at least one pair of travel shoe trees, to put in after you’ve brushed them.

Make good use of good dry cleaners and cobblers where you are staying, and give all of your clothes some love when you get back home.

Any more specific questions, let me know. And enjoy your trip!

Black calf with popish purple

Colour and its complements have always fascinated me. I think it began in art class. The idea of complementary colours (or contrasting ones, as the same pairs are also described – which has interesting ramifications in itself) I found wondrous. Why should these particular pigments sit in such a cosy circle and produce such varying secondary colours when they are mixed?

Wonder was only enhanced by the rules of physics, learnt a few years later. The primary colours are different with light? But they mix to produce the same things? That makes no sense, no matter how many wave diagrams you show me.

Today, the fascination with colour is expressed in shirt/tie and sock/shoe combinations. Sad really.

With black shoes, there broadly two colour options. Either stay with the dark, rich tone of the leather and try to add a little body to it – deep greens and purples probably – or say ‘to hell with it’ and go for the highest contrast – bright yellow or, more profitably, red.

We’ll deal with brights and black another day. For the moment let’s focus on purple. A rich colour, a royal colour, a religious colour: purple is unusual but could never be accused of frippery. Placed between navy pinstripes and black oxfords, for example, it is serious enough for the dignity of business. But how much more excitement and pleasure for the eye does it give than trouser-matching navy?

Some confess to feeling rather restricted by black shoes. One or two friends in the law have complained that they just don’t have any options, so conservative are the tastes of their employers. Well, first there are some damned exciting black shoes out there. But second, see if your employer can find any grounds for objecting to purple. It’s my favourite and it could soon be yours, too.

This post originally appeared on Gentleman's Corner

Thread on Style Forum

I was honoured to be compared to A Suitable Wardrobe on a recent thread at Style Forum.

Thank you for the kind words posted there. I can only say I hope to some day have the breadth of knowledge, experience and insight of Will. I also hope that we both provide something slightly different for readers. There are too few of these blogs - Will's is, after all, the only one I read every day.

The coat project

I used to buy overcoats too small. Because I didn’t wear a jacket all the time, I picked the size that fitted over a sweater, which was too small with a jacket. Now if anything I buy overcoats too big: to make sure they fit over anything, including double-breasted, highly structured flannel suits.

I need an overcoat that can do both. So, together with the good men at Graham Browne (who made my rather excellent bespoke suit recently) I am designing one that will have a full pleat all the way down its back, beginning just below the neck. That pleat will be covered with a half-belt (just covering the back) which can be tightened to three settings – T-shirt, bulky sweater and suit jacket. At its largest setting, the pleat will be fully open and able to accommodate a heavy suit underneath. At its smallest setting, it will be fitted at the waist even if I’m wearing nothing.

Now of course the biggest effect will be at the waist – it will not help adjust the width of the shoulders (to cope with a suit’s shoulder pads) and the cinching will decrease the further up the drape you go. But the overcoat’s waist is really the biggest problem with fit as it has less structure than the shoulders.

Military capes used to have a similar pleat to this. And the effect can still be seen on some coats today that have a small pleat above the waist (an ‘action back’) and a pleat or vent below. But I haven’t seen one yet that has a pleat all the way down, together with a half belt.

Having the coat made bespoke will also help, as it can be constructed to fit very snugly over my biggest jacket, allowing just enough room at the shoulder and armhole. Off the peg it is often hard to get this and the waist right in any particular size.

To match some of the structure and complication of the back, I also plan to have turn-back cuffs and a split seam down the arm (that is an extension of the shoulder seam, rather than running down the back of the arm). Both can be seen in the picture above of the gentleman wearing a polo coat in cream. I think they are nice and slightly old-fashioned details.

However, one thing I am unsure of is whether to also include the other details of the traditional polo – raised seam, patch pockets, double breast. Should I keep it simple and single-breasted, as on the man in the centre-right below (though without the covert coat seams, obviously)? One factor is that both my other coats are double-breasted; the other is that I am afraid a full polo coat with the pleat in the back will be too cluttered.

Any opinions are welcome.

A real workshop and Anthony's book

On a trip to George Cleverley the other week I had a chance to tour the workroom and see the last making, as well as some making in progress and the storage of the various lasts still in use.

It struck me immediately how incongruous it felt to be on the first floor of a smart arcade in the West End, looking down on wealth managers strutting in their suits, and yet be surrounded by wood, sawdust and tools.

Many British manufacturers proudly say that their products are made on these shores. Those on Savile Row and a very small number on Jermyn Street are also proud that construction is done on the premises. But often that work is done in basements, or otherwise tucked away from the customers and the outside. It is quite different to look out of the windows of The Royal Arcade and see potential customers browsing the shops.

The manual nature of the work in a shoemaker’s adds to the incongruity. Tailoring is less physical work, and can quite easily be done in a suit or shirtsleeves. You do also occasionally see seamstresses at work in the windows of tailors (often those that advertise alteration services) so it is a more regular sight.

But shoemaking involves dust and aprons, real physical exertion as the leather is stretched and nailed over a last – or a wooden block is whittled down. Both were going on at Cleverley when I visited, and the experience conjures up what traditional English workshops were like back in the days when Cleverley was founded.

Elsewhere the biggest object of interest was the record book of Anthony Cleverley, showing all the bespoke pieces that he made for his aristocratic customers down the years. When the business was relaunched by George Cleverley & Co recently, they weren’t even aware of this book’s existence until old customers started mentioning it. A bit of research located the book and its owner, who passed it on.

In its day the book was rather famous, with people eager to see what others had commissioned and be inspired by those ideas. For those looking to commission a new pair from Cleverley’s, and who like the Anthony Cleverley shape (slightly longer, more chiselled and with a squarer toe), it equally provides a wealth of ideas – as well as showing the royalty or celebrity that you can mimic.

I recommend popping in and asking to see it some time, as well as the original Anthony Cleverley shoe they have on display - which is so small, neat and lightweight it feels almost like a child’s shoe.

Also, for those American readers that are interested, Cleverley’s autumn (fall) round of trunk shows has just been announced. The dates in October are:

New York: Thursday 1st, Friday 2nd, Saturday 3rd & Monday 5th

San Francisco: Wednesday 7th & Thursday 8th

Beverly Hills: Friday 9th, Saturday 10th, Monday 12th & Tuesday 13th

Houston: Thursday 15th

Dallas: Friday 16th & Saturday 17th

Atlanta: Monday 19th & Tuesday 20th

Chicago: Wednesday 21st & Thursday 22nd

Washington DC: Friday 23rd & Saturday 24th

Boston: Monday 26th & Tuesday 27th

New York: Wednesday 28th, Thursday 29th, Friday 30th & Saturday 31st

Interview: Developing a love for clothes 2

The second part of an interview with Olly Watkins, adventurer on the choppy seas of style. (First part here.)

What’s your favourite accessory right now?

It’s a toss up between the shoes I am wearing, a new pair of brown Derbys from Barker, and my purple knit-silk tie.

Probably the tie, because I am discovering combinations to wear it with all the time. It can be quite formal, as a smart colour, but also informal, in its construction. As a member of the golf club, where gentlemen have to wear ties in the bar, it is not always easy to find something you want to wear that isn’t a suit. Or a tie that’s too dressy. Most men don’t own the country attire, odd jackets and casual ties, that suit that atmosphere. I don’t own much tweed or that many separates, but this tie is one thing that bridges work and play.

What’s top of your wish list?

I’m always on the look out for the ultimate navy suit. I don’t know why but I always am. I could own hundreds of navy suits and be happy. I love its versatility with other colours, I love the way it flatters a man’s silhouette. It’s quite high-contrast with a white shirt, and I think that suits my complexion [Caucasian, black hair].

I have two navy suits already yet I carry on looking. I even ordered my last one with pinstripes just because I couldn’t bring myself to order another plain navy one. I don’t even want it pinstriped.

Your wardrobe is a mix of ready-to-wear and made-to-measure from A Suit That Fits. Do you aspire to bespoke and would you ever go back to ready-to-wear?

The main advantage of going to A Suit That Fits was that I got precisely that.

The ready-to-wear I have from Aquascutum is arguably made better with better cloth, but I’m not sure. Time will tell. The last one I bought from there isn’t wearing particularly well and it doesn’t fit, even after alterations. So no, I don’t think I’d ever buy ready-to-wear again.

Do you find the process hard though?

Absolutely. I am very much an impulse buyer, like a lot of men, and I find it hard to sit and wait for a suit to come. I need to learn to make that part of the fun. I would think that were I to go for full bespoke, the fittings would make it easier, more like little shopping trips.

Which of the ‘rules’ did you find the most useful when you discovered it?

That your shoes should be darker than your trousers. I had never really considered that before. For me it had always been about colours that look nice together. So if tan shoes look nice with dark jeans, why don’t they go with a navy suit? I learnt that it was about matching formality.

Which rule do you like breaking the most?

No brown in town. It’s the one I grew up with and the one that makes my father most angry when I meet him for lunch in the City.

What websites do you read?

Permanent Style, and perhaps A Suitable Wardrobe in the US.

What frustrates you most?

When are manufacturers going to realise that rugby players make up a big portion of their customers, and they are just shaped differently? Look at the rugby-inspired clothing out there, and then the lack of suits for men of that shape.

What brands do you aspire to?

Lodger shoes. Though I have to say that if I were to pay a lot of money for shoes I would probably take the big leap and get proper bespoke.

And anything that James Bond is wearing – Brioni, Tom Ford, Turnbull & Asser.

What words of wisdom would you have for someone just starting out on a sartorial journey?

Fit is everything.

Interview: Developing a love for clothes

My colleague Olly Watkins has become more and more interested in traditional menswear and permanent style in recent years. His journey, and the lessons he has learnt along the way, provide interesting perspective for new devotees to permanent style.

Simon: When did you first become interested in clothes?

Olly: Well, it took me a while to get over the bottle-green corduroys my mother made me wear when I was eight-years old.

But by the time I was a teenager I was interested again. And being a child of the eighties, a sharp-cut suit was everything. I didn’t own one for ages but that was the aspiration. I was never terribly interested in casual clothes or in fashion. I just wanted to wear clothes that fitted well and match colours without looking ridiculous.

When I first started work I tried to wear suits and was interested by the idea of tailors. My father used an old City tailor and it was fascinating to talk to him about tailoring and traditional City style.

But that interest remained a minor one?

Yes. I tried to dress well but I never really delved into the kind of questions that were centrally to improving that – why do none of my jackets really fit me? What are the limits to having alterations done? Where could I have one made? It was a frustration with men’s retail really.

And that changed recently?

Yeah, I always used to wear suits, but as the dress ethic in the office relaxed over the years I became more and more casual. Then recently (it may be the onset of old age) I got frustrated and decided to smarten up a little. Like the benefits of a school uniform, I wanted something smart and formal that if anything would take less thought in the morning.

But it really took off when I discovered the whole mini-culture around men’s clothes, the traditions (not rules!), the web sites and the community. It was amazing. So many people talking about something which is largely forgotten today, in an age of high fashion and transient trends – where people walk around in the most terrible outfits just for the sake of looking like other people.

What was the biggest revelation for you?

Just how many people are interested in this area, the whole culture around it. Looking around at people, in whatever city, it’s easy to think that no one cares what they wear at work. I commute in from Essex every morning, and you see legions of men in black, blue or grey suits, with the jacket undone, tie loose and obviously not interested in their attire.

If you look back at pictures of US presidents or other politicians in the past, they are all smart, they all have pocket squares. It was something that men took pride in. That doesn’t happen anymore, so I was surprised to find so many men involved in this area so passionately, that do care.

I really like that niche. It gives you something to follow, in an area that suits me far better than squeezing into a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt that isn’t quite long enough.

What’s your favourite outfit?

Probably the thing that fits me best at the moment – my midnight-blue dinner suit that I got from A Suit That Fits. I love wearing it, it fits me much better than anything else and is probably better made as well. I just feel better in it. I didn’t realise that it was almost impossible to cater to my proportions in ready-to-wear clothing, even if altered. [Olly has a 46-inch chest and 36-inch waist: a 10-inch drop that is far above the ready-to-wear standard of six inches. See link here]

I’d wear that with thin-soled, black-calf Oxford toe-caps – I have yet to be converted to pumps or patent leather. And a white shirt, white braces, bow tie and gold cufflinks to match the gold clips on the braces. Oh, and a white silk pocket square.

The cummerbund or waistcoat is essential, I suppose, but I find that the trousers are cut so high that they prevent any shirt showing below the waist button anyway, to the end of the bib of the shirt. It seems a little odd to me to wear a cummerbund that just goes over the trousers entirely. That’s not to say I wouldn’t wear one, just that I don’t at the moment.

Obviously the theory is to cover the waistband of the trousers. But I suppose if the waistband is clean and smart, and the shirt is not exposed, you could argue that the cummerbund’s place has been superseded.

Yes. It just seems a little pointless to me. I suppose it’s a rule that I have learnt how to break, as you describe on the blog. I understand why it’s there and so have broken it sensibly and with full knowledge of the outcome.

To be continued…

E Tautz goes retail on Monday

The E. Tautz line of handmade, ready-to-wear clothes designed by Norton & Sons is about to go into London stores. In fact, Matches selected its pieces yesterday from the Savile Row shop and their choices will be delivered on Monday. Harrods, the only other UK store to carry Tautz, will be putting out their selection in early September.

When I popped into Norton & Sons, the rail was all out of order, as was the look book. And it was all Matches’ fault. Still, the singular aesthetic of the Spring/Summer 10 collection, very similar in thrust to the first one (A/W 09), is not hard to discern. And you can see it all on the Tautz site, in order, here.

Everyone at Nortons has a hand in the designs of Tautz, but it is Patrick Grant’s overall control that maintains the singular aesthetic. Knit bowties, luxurious knitted sweaters, unlined jackets and big round collars. Usually paired with knee-length socks and black lace-ups.

For me, the socks and shoes are key. Like the shorts-suits, they reflect the psychology of the collection rather than aiming for heavy retail. The themes are traditional, quirky, of their time and consistent throughout. I like the Breton sweater (above) but I’m not going to wear it with the shades and the beribboned espadilles. It doesn’t matter: the sweater itself has the psychology of the rest of the collection built in, albeit more subtly.

“The stripes on a traditional Breton sweater shouldn’t break into the neckline,” says Grant. “The first one should start just below, right across the chest. Jerseys, and those made by machine, rarely achieve this as they are made from just a single pattern.” It’s easy if the piece is all hand-knitted (and easy to control if it’s all done in the UK).

Then there’s a small, contemporary twist: sections taken out of the stripes in that sweater. In the jackets, the sophistication of the unlined construction – that would look odd with a single breast but hangs together much better with a double.

The trousers reflect that as well. Both them and the shorts are based on original designs from the early twentieth century that were worn to play tennis. The trousers (above) had side tabs as well as belt loops – and two loops on the immediate right of the buckle (perhaps a clue to our previous discussion about which way to wear your belt?). Those design elements have been retained while the construction elsewhere is modernised.

I find Tautz fascinating because it’s ready-to-wear with the best of tailoring built in. From a craft perspective there is also an endless list of quirks and quality points I could bring up. Have a look when it goes into stores – broadly Harrods has the tailoring and Matches the casual wear.

New Berluti line: Pierre

Every few of years Berluti comes out with a new line. In 2004, Olga III; in 2006, Demesures; this year it's Pierre. I have to say it's a lot more appealing to my tastes than some previous offerings. A very slim, classic line, it was inspired by models made for Yves Saint Laurent. It will be in Berluti branches from September.

Being Beluti, there's a poem about it. "You adjust them, you shape them/They are the words, you are the book/They are the skin, you are the body/They are the style, you are the substance..." You get the idea.

It's a good excuse for great pics.

Black suits are for glamour, not business

I have a friend that loves black suits. Can’t get enough of them. For him, a black suit and a white shirt are the chicest things a man can wear. He is a big fan of Reservoir Dogs, so that might have influence him somewhat, but he still has a point – black and white is the combination of choice for Hollywood stars and fashion designers, everyone from Karl Lagerfeld to Simon Cowell.

Yet I hate black suits. Can’t stand them. When a graduate turns up at an interview in a black suit and a white shirt, no matter what the tie, he looks immature. The outfit looks cheap.

Black suits almost no one. (Sorry for the pun.) Most men’s complexions are washed out by it. They are not high enough contrast. Blue and grey are much kinder, with mid-grey probably being the easiest of all.

And black can look cheap. That’s why navy blue is the smartest option for a suit, and why some men wear midnight blue for evening wear. It looks blacker than black.

So why does black look great on Dolce & Gabbana? Well, for a start they and their Hollywood peers tend to be more tanned or darker skinned, so are better able to pull off the high contrast. But more importantly, those people are often photographed at glamorous occasions.

Usually in the evening, these occasions are about dark backgrounds and bright lights, velvet drapes and sparkling jewellery. They are about high contrast, and the outfits are planned to match. The women just as much as the men would look gaudy and cheap if they wore those outfits in the middle of the day.

This is the foundation behind black tie, traditional men’s evening wear. It is about monotone, contrast and variation only in texture. Subtle changes in colour are lost in those situations, so tone is kept simple and the adventure is in texture – silk and satin, velvet and patent.

Even when designers or film stars are not at an evening function, they are associated with glamour. Indeed, the very fact that you have seen them probably means they have been photographed – and long-range photography isn’t much good at picking up the subtleties of Glen check or harmonised colours.

Black suits with white shirts look cool because of their associations. And they can look good on you at an evening event – as a cocktail suit, for example. (Mohair suits similarly.) Just don’t wear them for business.

The handkerchief says 'look at me'

Be careful with adding a handkerchief to your outfit. Elegance should stand out on its own.

I see a lot more men today wearing pocket handkerchiefs with their jackets. And as much as I like being different to the rest, this is certainly a good thing. Whether a plain, white linen square or a coloured silk puff, handkerchiefs are a great source of expression for men. The opportunities for decorating ourselves with colour are few; rarer still are those that involve bright hues or flighty silk.

However, a handkerchief is still unusual and as such makes a bold statement in a man. It says ‘I think and care about my clothes. I’m not afraid to attract attention and scrutiny.’

Most other aspects of fine clothing are subtler. The waisting of a jacket, the hang of a tie or the slim welt of a bespoke shoe are all things you would notice – but not immediately, not obviously. A handkerchief shouts in contrast: because it is an additional item, like a boutonniere, that most men wouldn’t normally wear; because it is often so bright, whether coloured or not.

So the danger is that a clothing novice wears a pocket handkerchief to show he is interested in clothes, but the rest of his outfit betrays naivety. I saw a young man wearing one yesterday but his tie ended at his belly button, his jacket was undone and his shoes were far too pale for his suit. In that set-up the handkerchief only draws attention to the cheapness or ill-fitting nature of the other items one wears.

I do hope that none of this sounds arrogant or puts off young men from trying out handkerchiefs. But as with the comments made by readers on my recent post regarding matching socks and accessories, this is experimentation for the experienced gentleman. For those that have already mastered the basics.

Elegance is still essentially about simplicity. Make sure you match your socks to your trousers to start with. Then experiment later, keeping enough simplicity elsewhere in the outfit to retain balance. With handkerchiefs, only add one to an outfit when you are confident in everything else. Make it a latter stage in your education.

To finish on a positive note, a comment made to me by Patrick Grant at Norton & Sons: “More people are wearing handkerchiefs these days. Almost more than are wearing ties, which is really funny.

“I’m glad they are, because a man needs a little bit of colour. If I remove my handkerchief, what I am wearing automatically becomes less interesting. If I remove the tie as well, it becomes very dull. It’s something anyone could put together.”