Penrose: Oh, the colour

Every season, accessories brand Penrose rents a showroom next to Liberty on Great Marlborough Street to show off its new collection. Walk in there, and you get an invigorating shock to the senses. So much fresh, vibrant colour in that clean, white space. Co-founder Mitchell Jacobs calls himself a colourist rather than a designer, and you can see why.

The second thing that hits you, no less forcefully, is the patterns. I’m naturally more conservative than the target audience for most of these designs, but many are so intricate that they completely take me in. Think subtler than Paul Smith and cleverer than Duchamp (Mitchell’s old brand). Think “lace archives in France, church ceramics, wallpaper in Florence, Viennese water marks, tiles in coffee shops” – the list that fellow founder Michael Whitby-Grub reels off as recent inspirations.

The tie patterns are more elaborate than most – something that means the weavers down at Vanners in Suffolk take up to week to transfer them to the loom, where a standard pattern would take no more than a day. And, for me, the intricate cuff links – which also take disproportionate time to create – remind me of ornate wrought-iron railings.

Yet they’re not too pricey – around £80 for a tie, £110 for a scarf (popular with Liam Gallagher and the Kaiser Chiefs, apparently). It helps that Penrose doesn’t do any advertising or marketing.

On the geeky technical side, Michael points out that the silks are not bleached before being dyed – something that means Vanners has to do Penrose silks separately. It takes longer, but Michael feels it adds greater lustre to the colours. He also uses 350-end, seven-ply silk, which also helps hold the colour better (most silks are 4 or 5, occasionally 6-ply).

And, if you remember back to the feature I did on Vanners about how silks are spun, you’ll remember the role of the warp as opposed to the weft. Michael doesn’t use a black warp, unlike most tiemakers, but varies the colour between designs. That creates a shifting, two-tone effect.

I first met Michael back in 2009, when the first Penrose collection (A/W 09) was in full swing. Since then, the brand has grown enormously. It is now stocked by Selfridge’s, Liberty, Bloomingdale’s (this winter) and around 35 independents around the world, including in France, Greece, Cyprus, Russia and Japan. Mitchell had sold Duchamp, the brand he created, in 2006. After a short break as a ‘gentleman farmer’, he returned to world of men’s accessories, to be joined by Michael, former international wholesale manager at Aquascutum.

Mitchell says that if he hadn’t left Duchamp, this is the brand it probably would have become – subtler, refined but with that innate love of vibrant colour and sophisticated pattern.

If there are designs that even a conservative like me can love, there’ll be something for everyone.

That delayed Anderson & Sheppard

As requested, here is my Anderson & Sheppard suit. A 13-ounce, grey Prince of Wales cloth with pale blue overcheck, made up into three-piece suit with outer right ticket pocket.

The two things I noticed immediately were the high armholes and gentler shoulder. The former gives you greater freedom of movement but - owing to the large armhole - a smooth top to the sleeve. The latter is more of a style issue, and you could argue one that suits me less given I have sloping shoulders already. But I have jackets with even less padding and I think it's just a question of the look. I deliberately had this commissioned in a cloth that means I can wear the jacket separately on its own.

I was also impressed with the pattern matching - something highlighted by the detailed check. On the jacket the matching across the front piece, welt and then pocket flaps is nice, particularly across both the main and ticket pocket.

And I noticed that the trousers are fastened with a button inside the waist, one more above the fly and then a metal hook at the end. I've never seen a button in the middle like this - usually it's a hook in the middle and button on the end, or hook in both places. Mr Hitchcock says it is their classic fastening for a single breasted and I can certainly see that it makes sense - there is more freedom of movement in the middle, above the fly, as the buttonhole is horizontal.

I had two fittings, a forward and then a final. At the second fitting the only changes were a narrowing of the skirt and a slight shortening of one sleeve. The accuracy of the fit at the first fitting was impressive, particularly given that it involved only a quick set of measurements by Mr Hitchcock. The cloth here looks a little ruffled - but then it has yet to settle to my shape.

Shirt from Emma Willis, tie from Hermes and handkerchief from Sciarpa.

A tennis outfit for the tennis shoes

Court costume for the season of 1934

Esquire, August 1934: "Except for the silk foulard handkerchief worn as a sash in place of the more prosaic belt, this outfit is unreservedly recommended for tennis players of every rank. The reservation regarding the coloured waist-handkerchief is not made as a matter of taste, since this item is smart as all get out; simply in recognition of the fact that many tournament officials still stick to the letter of the traditional rule against any deviations from plain white in the attire of contestants. So, if you are a tournament player you'd better have a white belt handy, if only for the actual playing time spent in organised competition.

The Polo shirt is of white, light-weight wool, with half sleeves; the trousers are of white flannel or that finish which goes by the name of cricket cloth; the shoes are white canvas sneakers (although the new Cuban Jai Alai shoes are equally suitable, and smarter in appearance.) The breast insignia is a small monogram."

A pure coincidence that this image comes the same week as my acquisition of tennis shoes designed 24 years before this photo. I can't help feeling mine would be smarter even than Cuban Jai Alai shoes (worn for a version of hand ball played in that country), though perhaps less practical for actual play. The silk belt isn't me, but I do like the idea of a white tennis shirt with subtle monogram.

The tennis shoes - at long last

It's been a long time coming, but I finally managed to get my hands on a pair of Lodger tennis shoes this week. And I'm revelling in them.

They were first offered as one of Lodger's shoes of the month back in April 2009. At the time I had the chance to order a pair, but decided against it. As soon as the calendar clicked round into May, I regretted the decision.

Then there was a vote in January 2010 for the best shoe of the month ever, with the winner being brought back into production. Despite my half-hearted attempt to rig the vote and get the tennis shoe back for a month, it finished a disappointing third.

Finally, this week, I managed to source one of the old display pairs. Luckily, I am a size eight in this last - the size all display pairs are made in.

The tennis shoe is perfect for me as a weekend alternative to the trainer. While I own some Converse I've never really been excited by trainers. But white shoes are appealing as a casual shoe, instantly creating a different look to a brown suede, say, or a tan slip-on. I can easily wear the tennis shoe with a t-shirt and jeans - most other leather shoes easily look out of place.

The tennis shoes are made of white nubuck, with a burgundy lining but plain leather soles. They are a recreation of a classic 1910 tennis model, from the age when the object of the game was to simply return the ball to your partner. And you played in a jacket and trousers.

Personally, my favourite elements of the tennis shoe are the double toe-cap - the second a gently curving scoop of leather behind the first - and the variegated layers of leather in the heel. People keep on asking me if they are made of wood.

Wedding outfit by popular request

Well, you asked for it and here it is - the alternative wedding outfit from last Friday. Double-breasted suit from Graham Browne filling in for the absent Anderson & Sheppard, with Lobb shoes.

My daughter is pulling the face she normally does when asked to give a big smile.

The boutonniere is not exactly small, despite my previous post but one, but when it emerged that I was going to wear a flower, several others became keen and white roses from the front garden were everyone's flower of choice. So a white rose it was, setting off the white shirt and hankerchief rather nicely, I think.

Oh, and before anyone even dreams to suggest an alternative, the shirt cuff showing on each arm is identical and the right sleeve falls perfectly. It's just the position of my arm, ok?

Fawn with a red/yellow scarf

Ultimate evolution of the ski outfit

Esquire, January 1939: "Watch out below - here comes the latest verison of the ski outfit, the definitive streamliner of them all. Its keynote is the poplin pullover wind jacket in the new fawn colour, with slide fastener at the shoulder and ribbed wrists, waistband and neck. The matching gabardine trousers are the peg-top style that fit into the top of the boots.

Especially cute is the new type sun visor which may be worn either in the position shown or pulled down over the eyes to serve as goggles. Baby sealskin mittens, a light-weight silk scarf and two-tone brown ski boots complete the outfit.

The main trend in ski wear, for reasons apparent to the naked eye, is toward this light-weight pullover type of wind jacket, worn usually with matching or contrasting peg-top trousers. Besides its light weight, the jacket is wind-resistant and show-shedding. All unnecessary pockets and gadgets have been purged for the sake of practicality."

OK, I'm struggling for inspiration here. Perhaps the colour harmonisation between red/yellow scarf and fawn jacket. It wouldn't have to be worn as a ski outfit...

*Apparently some people had trouble viewing the image above. If anyone still does, please tell me. Simon*

Bespoke shoes at Cleverley: Part 7

Onto the next stage of my shoes being made at Cleverley’s. This week, the lasting and the sewing of the welt.

The job is being done by Andy, who has been with Cleverley for quite a while – that’s him in the picture above, making shoes for Prince Charles with the great George Cleverley watching on. These days Andy spends most of his time working from home, but he came into town this week to show me how he was finishing off the lasting of the shoes and sewing on the front part of the welt, ready for the fitting.

Since the previous post Andy has inserted a heel stiffener in the back, between the upper and in insole, and a toe puff in the front. Both are very damp at this stage, so they can be moulded easily. They have also been skived down so they fit right up inside the shoe.

The heel stiffener extends right up to the joints – essentially the back part of the shoe that will not flex. The toe puff is the same size as the toe cap, creating four layers of leather at the toe – cap, upper, puff and lining. Some makers cut the upper off where it meets the toe cap, to save leather and perhaps make it less bulky. But Cleverley’s prefers the extra layer, one reason being that a faint ridge can develop where the upper ends, just beyond the edge of the cap.

That extra layer also means there are two pieces to last over the toe, which makes the next stage for Andy a little harder. He goes round the shape of the toe, stretching the leather over and hammering in the nails as he goes. The Cleverley ‘suspiciously square’ toe is particularly hard to last, as he can’t work in the excess gradually – it all has to go in at the corners.

Andy spends a long time trying to get both toes to look the same. This involves relasting parts a couple of times, dragging the outer edge of one toe cap up by around one eight of an inch, for example. Then he uses the hammer, his ‘secret weapon’, to bash, tap and massage the toe into shape. The range of pressures and techniques used is impressive, with a broad-headed hammer that is only ever used on leather and so is wonderfully smooth and burnished.

Then comes the sewing of the welt. Around the inside edge of the insole, seen here in an old model, is a ridge – the feather – which is created by cutting down the insole on either side. In factory-made shoes the feather is replaced by a strip of canvas, as seen on the repairs of my Edward Greens recently.

An awl is used to pierce the feather and then go through the lining, heel stiffener and upper. Once through, one end of the thread (waxed cotton ending in a twist of nylon) follows the awl back through and, with the awl removed, the other end of the thread goes through in the opposite direction. When pulled taught this creates a lock stitch that means no more than one stitch can ever come undone. Not that any of Andy’s ever has.

Andy sews relatively large stitches, three to an inch at most. Other Cleverley makers do more, say four an inch. The only risk to doing more is that you could tear the welt. But then Andy thinks other makers that do more stitches don’t pull through quite as hard. It’s really a style issue that is one of the reasons George or Teemu will pick a particular shoemaker over another. Everyone stitches, and shapes toes, in a slightly different way.

The welt is sewn from one side of the waist to the other, leaving the heel bare. To secure the insole and upper, the same sewing is done through the leather but without a welt. This is called bracing. Some bespoke shoemakers will brace the whole shoe, without a welt at all, for the fitting.

The advantage of this is that it is quicker to change if there are any problems and there is more excess leather left to make such adjustments. The disadvantage is that you can’t walk around in the shoe when you try it on. With the welt sewn on there is less excess leather and a heel can be quickly nailed on, so you can stroll around the store.

The shoes will be left on the last for a few days to dry. Then I get to try them on. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’m a little excited.

A nice, small boutonniere

Wearing a flower in your buttonhole is a lovely extravagance that can be justified by events like weddings, Easter celebrations and formal sporting meetings. If you’re going to wear one, I recommend keeping it discreet.

Rather like a pocket handkerchief, a boutonniere captures the attention. It is in stark contrast to the cloth surrounding it and – most likely – the attire of surrounding men. For that reason, it is worth understating. It should be a pretty little focus point, not a heavy head that lolls from the lapel.

Equally, the colour should be kept subtle. A cream with some yellow, green or lilac in there, rather like the flower shown above. This is particularly important when you are not part of the wedding party, so the desire is to be elegant without standing out. Prince Charles is particularly good at this, as one may expect. His buttonholes are always delicate and pointed.

I will be going to my first wedding of the summer on Friday, and am as excited as only someone can be that commits far too much time and attention to what he wears, so really likes occasions when everyone else is too and he can show off without really showing off.

I shall be wearing (in case you are interested): Prince of Wales three-piece check suit, Anderson & Sheppard; white shirt, Turnbull & Asser; silver Macclesfield tie, Tom Ford; white linen handkerchief, Kiton; plain grey socks, Pantherella; black cap-toe shoes, GJ Cleverley.

And of course a small bloom, to be picked on the day.

Unlined ties at Panta Clothing

Ed Morel over at new New York company Panta has started making ties as part of his offering (see prevous post on his superb trousers here) and I received a couple last week.

Though the ties are made in New York, they all use English silks and wools. They are six fold and, depending on the fabric, are either unlined or very lightly lined. The tie is handsewn and finishes in an excess length of thread - a length, which is secured in one side of the tail, rather than a loop. A slightly different technique to finishing the loose tacking up the middle, but no less effective.

I'm a big fan of the charcoal wool you can see here, which I think works particularly well in an unlined six-fold. I'm less keen on the silks unlined, but that's just a personal thing - generally I prefer ones with a little heft.

Initial pricing is $99. Once the website is set up and running (still a week or two away), the full price will be $119-$129.

I also received a further pair of Panta's trousers, which Ed has altered from the first model slightly by using a softer and thicker shirt cotton in the waistband.

Until the site is ready, Ed can be reached at contact@pantaclothing.com. More shots of the collection can be seen at this Style Forum thread here.

Grey hound's-tooth tweed, please

The daring young waiter of St Moritz

Esquire, January 1936: "Painted on ice, if not on skates, by Mr Saalburg in Switzerland, this scene combines the atmospheric with the informative. Realism is evident in the fact that the most agile figure is, naturally enough, the waiter. What the others lack in skill they make up for in appearance, presumably.

At any rate, the figure in the foreground, at least dresses the part. The suit is blue-grey tweed in a hound's-tooth check, made in a three button single-breasted model with notch lapels and side vents. Beneath the jacket is a navy turtle neck sweater. With the knickers are worn full length wool hose, also of navy blue. Black and white Norwegian mittens complete the outfit.

In the wine-like air of a sunny day in the Swiss mountains, this turnout is warm enough for skating and for tramping through the snow. With the jacket off, the outfit pictured could be worn for cross-country skiing."

I'm not going skiing in tweed and I'm not wearing knickers (of any sort). But that hound's tooth would look smashing as a normal suit. I may even wear it with a navy turtle neck, you never know.

How great things age: Globe-Trotter 2

Usually it’s pretty hard waiting for your favourite things to come back from being repaired. But unlike the Edward Greens I reported on last in this series, my Globe-Trotter suitcase hasn’t really been missed. There were two weekends away in that period, both one night, neither of which called for a real suitcase. Judy Bown’s work got the job instead.

Nonetheless, it was good to have my battered case back, if only to relieve the anxiety of what was happening to it up in Broxbourne. Ever since seeing those EG’s ripped apart it’s hard not to feel anxious.

Thankfully all’s well, as these pictures attest. The new wheel and corner will both look rather new for a while, but only until baggage handling gets hold of it again.

And next time something gets damaged, I’ll remember to complain about it within the two weeks required for compensation from the airlines.

A great gun club double-breasted

The clothes men wear at Meadowbrook

Esquire, September 1935: "It is in the horsey set that many of the country's major trends of general fashion see their first presentation. The outfit at the left consists of a bold Glen plaid jacket of black and rust-brown, with a deep blue overplaid in an easy fitting natural-shouldered model with an outside ticket pocket and deep side vents, grey flannel slacks and an adaptation in brown suede of the postboy model waistcoat, a grey oxford shirt with a widespread collar attached, a brown and white shepherd's check tie and a pork pie hat.

The other outfit includes a Saxony gun club checked double-breasted suit in a long rolled lapel model with unflapped pockets and deep side vents, a tab collar shirt with small grey checks, a black cashmere wool tie with yellow polka dots, a silk handkerchief of hunting yellow, monk-front reverse calf shoes with leather soles and heels, yellow chamois gloves and a rough felt Homburg hat."

Wow. Quite a description. My item of desire from all that: a gun club double-breasted suit; That'd just be lovely. Without the waistcoat though.

Bespoke shoes at Cleverley: Part 6

The next stage in our painstaking exploration of shoemaking at GJ Cleverley is the checking and lasting. Having cut the leather to size and had it closed, the completed uppers have to be stretched onto the last.

This stage is intended to check that the 2D uppers fit the 3D last, and to let those uppers sit on the last for 10 days or so, so they mould to its shape. That way, once the uppers are given to the maker – who will actually last them properly, to an insole – they are pre-formed and the maker’s job is easier and more mechanical.

Dominic Casey kindly performed this process on my uppers, talking me through it along the way. The reason this stage is always done in-house is that Dominic can ensure the upper fits properly given his knowledge of the customer, whom he will probably have measured and will conduct the fitting with as well.

To that extent, my experience with Cleverley’s is a bit of a hybrid as I have had George, Teemu and Dominic involved in my shoes. Usually George and Teemu work together, the first measuring/fitting and the second creating the last/checking (They’ve been doing it together so long they are “almost symbiotic”), while Dominic tends to do all those processes himself.

Whoever’s involved, the closing and the making are the processes that are outsourced because they are the most mechanical and less dependent on knowledge of the customer.

So, here we see Dominic stretching the upper over the toe of the last first. He makes sure the white line that marks the centre of the toe is on the tip of the last. That is secured by one nail, using the same pliers to knock it in as are used to stretch the leather over.

Then two nails are put in either side of the toe cap. Here Dominic makes sure the toe cap is kept at a right angle to the line of the shoe and that the leather is tight enough across the last. “The leather stretches so far and no further with any ease, you get a feel for it,” he says. But it is also easy to tell whether the leather is tight enough once the nails are in. Dominic lasted one loosely to show me the difference, and you could pinch the slack above the toe cap. When it is lasted properly, that’s not possible; it is drum tight.

Two more nails then go in, around where the joints of the foot are, finishing the front.

The heel of this first upper is then nailed to the last, making sure the height of the heel corresponds to a standard size for my height and foot shape – usually about 2 3/8 inches. Then two last nails, fastening the outside quarters. The leather of the sides should again be very tight, snapping back when stretched. The height is also checked – 2 inches.

Unfortunately, that’s the easy bit. “Life would be much easier if we made shoes for people with one leg,” says Dominic. Because the true art lies in making both shoes look the same, despite being different sizes.

My left foot is almost half a size bigger than my right. This excess will be made up on the facings and in the back half of shoe – as it will be less noticeable there. The vamp and toe-caps should be exactly the same length. So having lasted both shoes, Dominic compares them and finds the left cap to be 1/8 of an inch longer (as you can just see in the picture below). So he does it again. It’s still ever-so-slightly longer, so he does it one more time.

The two are then compared, to make sure they look like a pair.

To show me how the leather will take on the shape of the last, Dominic removes the first upper (the right), which has been sitting on its last for around 10 minutes. Already, the toe shape and heel are clear. It’s obvious where the maker should last it to the insole.

The maker will add a heel stiffener and toe puff to the shoe, giving it greater structure, and then last it. Then the welt will be sewn on, back at Cleverley, ready for a fitting. There will be at least a week between each stage, though, to allow the leather time to dry and settle. Having to let the leather rest like this is one thing that makes the whole process so much longer.

Dominic says he likes this lasting and checking stage, because it is when the shoe really begins to take shape. “Before that, the last-making and the pattern-cutting, it’s all rather an intellectual exercise,” he says.

Dominic has rather a way with words. But then he did used to be a management consultant.