Huntsman tweed suit: Part 1

This marks the beginning of a new series of posts tracking the making of a Huntsman tweed shooting suit. A three-piece with plus-twos in one of this year’s house tweeds (above, right, and second from the left on the sleeves).

The tweed is a revival of one first made in 1968. Every two years Huntsman commissions a range of new tweeds from the 450-year-old Islay Woolen Mill in the Inner Hebrides, which resurrect an old design from the firm’s archives. (It has been using that mill for the past 12 years, ever since it was recommended by a client from San Francisco who stumbled across it while in Scotland.)

The pattern for the collection is taken from the old design, as are the colours for one tweed, while the background colours for the rest are standard browns, lovat, biscuit etc. The precise colour combinations are chosen by Hunstman staff (and occasionally clients) when they receive a large blanket from the mill covering 50-odd swatches (this series will feature a post on the new blanket when it arrives later in the year).

The mill receives guidance from general manager Peter Smith and his team. In the current collection, for example, Peter suggested a lot of lilac in the green tweed you can see on the model above. Despite that, and the rather unusual shade of blue, this tweed was one of the first to sell out. Then again, to retain their uniqueness only 60 metres of the tweeds are ordered each time – since some customers order a shooting suit with both plus-twos and trousers, that 60 metres doesn’t go very far.

To publicise the tweeds this year, Huntsman made up the lovely patched jacket you can see below, featuring tweeds from the 1960s to the present. Although it was only a showpiece for the window, they ended up selling four of the jackets – though some customers requested a little less pink here, a bit more blue there. It takes the idea of commissioning cloth to a whole new level.


The 2011/12 tweeds will revive the pattern from 1977 - the yellow with large twill you can see on the far right, centre, on the jacket above. Above that is a brown tweed with red check from 2001, to its left is a pink from 2004, going left still is a sparse check from 2008 and next to that is the 1968/2010 check with horizontal brown stripe I am having made.

There is also an 1980s check there, the orange and cream on the far left, centre. And below that is a grey check from 1999. It’s interesting to see how patterns and colours change over time, from the simple to the variegated, and which ones are considered suitable for the present day. Fashions come full circle.

I’m pleased with my tweed – I think the browns and blues will make it easy to wear casually with jeans or cords. And the brown background is slightly more modern than the greens or biscuit.

Next: Design and measuring

Photography: Andy Barnham

More buckskin, grey flannel jacket

Father and sons foregather for Harvard

Esquire, June 1953: "There's a shoht cheeyah for Haahvuhd in both these costumes, although in basic detail they are both right for both sides of the embattled lines that draw up in New London to watch the Harvard-Yale classic. Anyway, papa's carnation is Harvard red, and there is a Cantabridgian cast to the colour scheme of son's accessories. Yale men may solve this dilemma by substituting a blue cornflower for the Harvard red carnation - and so on throughout.

The younger man's outfit consists of a gabardine suit, with waistcoat left home, a white oxford button-down collared shirt, hound's-tooth cotton tie, horizontal stripe lisle hose, white buckskin shoes with red rubber soles and heels and a sennit straw. The other outfit has a grey flannel jacket, white cricket cloth slacks, broadcloth tab collar shirt, guard's tie of the Royal Artillery, combination last sports shoes and a brown snap brim hat."

There we go with buckskin again, and coincidentally the tennis shoes we featured a while back were in nubuck (though lined in red, rather than soles of red). Elsewhere, I love the idea of wearing my grey flannel DB jacket with white slacks. Don't get that many days bright enough in rainy London though...

Graham Browne, W Bill cashmere blazer

I got my cashmere blazer from Graham Browne this week, commissioned a couple of months ago following the plan more more soft, unlined jackets (post here).

The cloth is from W Bill, cashmere and in a rather chunky, open weave that makes it even softer to wear. The buttons are wooden, from haberdashers MacCulloch & Wallis just off Bond Street. Three button, it features patch breast and hip pockets, each with their own welt. There is also a collar tab that fastens across the neck and a button under the lapel to button there. I also went for a half lining, to enhance that sweater-like design.

That photo in colour

Thanks to those that sent in the picture of this handsome gentleman in colour. I like the shade of buckskin that is revealed, but am a little worried about the tan suit with 'burgundy' polo shirt. White buttons too.

Berluti repatination - the after shots

The after shots - Berluti Fil d'Ariane after a repatination from the guys in London.

In hindsight I might have gone for slightly less contrast between the two colours down the sides of the shoe. I like the merging of the colours more down the toe.

But then that contrast is the most likely thing to fade over time. Plus the strokes of colour down the side create the greatest painterly effect on the shoe.

Be patient with wardrobe building

Last week a friend commented on my blue silk Hermès tie. It is a navy three-fold decorated with a faint pattern of little Hs: very practical, very versatile, a perennial favourite. Having had it for a few years, I was surprised that it drew comment. It is neither the newest nor the most luxurious accessory I own and I have therefore long since ceased to think about it.

But there was a period when I saved up for weeks to buy it. It was in my mind both the epitome of style and of investment. It would be a luxury that could be worn every day.

Its versatility has certainly been proved, but it no longer seems like a luxury. I am in the fortunate position now that such items seem like friends rather than treasures, the result of slow but steady accumulation of bespoke clothes and handmade accessories.

So the comment led to me to the refection that it is worth being patient with wardrobe building. Invest in the pieces that you think are worth it and, as long as the next purchase comes before you wear the old one out, you will gradually create a great collection.

Suits can be particularly frustrating in this regard. Although they’re expensive, it can feel like you are wearing through the trousers faster than they are replaced, let alone upgraded. Trust me, things will get easier. Particularly because upgrading an item usually means increasing its longevity, meaning greater overlap between pieces and quicker accumulation.

Shoes are more satisfying. Looked after well, they will last years and years. No more than two good pairs a year are required to start building a great collection. And some accessories, certainly jewellery, will never wear out. An investment in a good watch, for example.

It seemed like an age before I had enough bespoke shirts to wear one every day. Now I feel like I need to remind myself daily of the privilege of wearing them. Be patient with your investments and the luxurious will gradually become ordinary. It’s a much nicer feeling than it sounds.

Brown buckskin shoes with gabardine

Southern wear is elaborately casual

Esquire, January 1935: "The big idea this year, if you want to be well dressed for the southern resort season, seems to be that of carefully conveying the impression that you don't give a damn how you look. The French have a word for it, dégagé, and indeed it is a prevailing characteristic of Riviera fashions.

Here the impression is fostered by the roll of the lapel to the bottom button of the double-breasted light tan gabardine suit, by the open-throated Burgundy coloured polo shirt of silk and wool and inherent informality of a porkpie hat of light-weight felt.

Other details worthy of notice are the eight-inch side vents at the back of the jacket, the brown buckskin shoes with leather soles and heels that are varnished black and the red carnation that gives the lie to the studied carelessness of the whole effect. You can wear a coloured silk handkerchief around the neck, if you like."

There's a link to nubuck here, which we've been discussing a lot recently, as that name probably derived from treating buckskin with the sanding technique, and developing the name 'new' buck. Brown shoes in buckskin sound lovely, pity the illustration was in black and white so we can't see the exact tone. Not a fan of pork pies though.

Shoes being re-patinated at Berluti

I watched my Berluti shoes being re-patinated last week. This is a service the company offers to anyone – they recommend that you take the shoes away, wear them half a dozen times (without polishing them) and bring them back in. It enables the staff to check how the shoes are wearing – and so whether they need softening or other remedial measures – and to alter the colour if desired.

I’ve had this pair of Fil d’Ariane Evadé oxfords for around six months now, and probably worn them closer to a dozen times – as you can probably see from the ‘before shot’ above. But at least I’ve finally remembered to bring them in.

The fit is fine, so no adjustments needed there. It is the only last in the Berluti range that I find is wide enough in the joints for my foot – though fortunately the same last is also used to create the Kimono shoes and Galet boots.

As to colour, I was broadly happy with the original, classic colour of the Evadé, but I felt it could do with a little more contrast. These are not subtle shoes, after all, and bit more of the patina Berluti is famous for would be nice. So in consultation with UK manager Lorenza, we agreed to darken the toe and lower part of the shoe all round (as well as around the knots themselves) and leave the facings a little lighter.

Here you can see some of this job in action. The polish is first stripped back to the rawest state possible at this stage (third shot from the top) and then both dyes and polishes are used to achieve the variegated, transparent effect. Dyes are added first, with anything from rags to cotton buds, and polishes used as a finishing touch. With dyes it is possible to make your shoe lighter, once it has been stripped back, though only so far.

The difference between dye and polish was compared to dying your hair and using ‘blonde’ shampoo. The latter might enhance the effect, but it’s certainly not going to make you blonde.

Although staff in the West End shop describe the patina with much more prosaic language than Olga herself, there is doubtless more art than science to this process. With dyes you are actually painting a shoe, after all. Though like a watercolour, the effects are added in layers and the biggest skill is knowing which parts to leave untouched.

Shots of the finished shoes next week.

Silk polos: the item of the season

As Nassau remembers the Duke of Kent

Esquire, January 1936: "Largely as a result of the Duke's visit last winter, the outfit sketched on the right may be expected to serve almost as a Nassau uniform, for boating, golf and even tennis, this coming season. The shorts are of gabardine, the rest of the rig consisting of a ribbed polo shirt, canvas espadrilles and a sailing cap.

The other figure typifies the dress for general wear at Nassau. The jacket is of natural tan gabardine, of a silk-like quality that makes the fabric irridescent. The lapel rolls to the top button and there are eight-inch side vents. With this coat the sketched figure wears grey flannel slacks, a dark blue polo shirt of light-weight silk, a large cotton handkerchief and the popular Nassau hat of coconut straw with a cotton puggree band. The shoes are the brown and white Norwegian model, as introduced last season in London.

Both outfits are also suitable for Bermuda later in the season."

I'm not sure seeing the present Duke of Kent in that outfit would be inspiring, but it seems to have been enlightening for the Americans of the day. I'm intrigued by the light-weight silk polo shirt, though. Light and comfortable, certainly, but suitable for that outfit? Perhaps it is in some weave that is not visible from the picture.

Lovely nubuck at Bill Amberg

The addiction to lovely leathers continues. Consistent readers will have seen previous posts on the construction details at Bown, Alfred Dunhill's north-London workshop and the oak-tanned bags at Bill Amberg. Other non-bag favourites include a thick winter jacket from Loro Piana and a recent acquisition in the sales - a deep-purple summer jacket from Bottega Veneta (70% off at Harrod's!). There's just no way to resist the big panels of soft leather you get on bags and jackets.

But while I've also been a fan of suede for some time (brown unlined jacket from Kilgour, bought in the post-Brandelli sales), nubuck was a recent discovery. I have the Lodger tennis shoes in nubuck, but nothing above the ankles. Nubuck is similar to suede, both in feel and process, as the cow skin is sanded down to achieve the soft surface. But nubuck is made by sanding the external, skin side of the leather, while suede is the flesh side. The result is that nubuck is finer and tougher - as the skin or grain side has a tighter fibre structure.

On a bag like the Metropolitan Magazine model from Bill Amberg, pictured above, this means that the surface has a velvety feel but is much more practical to use in a day bag. I acquired it recently in the sales (50% off at £155, still one or two left I think) and it was a departure from the norm, none of my other bags including black leather. It will hopefully prove useful in accessorising outfits where there is black leather elsewhere.

The lining is blue canvas and it features an external zip pocket as well as the main compartment. The top band and strap are bridle leather, as much of Bill's stuff tends to be. There's other great stuff in the Bill Amberg sale still, including the canvas summer bags at some very cheap prices. Apologies that I keep writing about things acquired at the tail end of the sales though. It does create rather a rush.

Rescuing shoes

A lesson today in the damage caused by not treating your shoes right; but how they can be repaired if you don’t.

My friend John is very fond of shoes. But he can be a little bit careless when it comes to their maintenance. My three golden rules for shoe care are to only wear them every other day (at the most), to put shoe trees in them at the end of every use, and to polish them regularly. Not following the first one will make the shoes wear out far quicker than needed; ignoring the second will lead to shoes wrinkling and losing their shape; and not polishing will lead to the leather drying out as well as losing protection. (From an aesthetic point of view, polishing will make your shoes look a lot better too – and to maintain that look I recommend brushing down at the end of every day (to remove scuffs) and wiping down at the beginning (to remove brush marks and dust)).

John followed few of these with the pair of shoes pictured here (from Polo Ralph Lauren). Certainly they were worn on sequential days and rarely saw a shoe tree.

You can see the effects – wrinkled, scuffed and, most importantly, worn down severely on the heel and sole. The biggest danger with this wearing down is that both the full heel and the welt need to be replaced. Both are expensive; but the second can also only be done a few times on a pair of shoes – so by letting the damage get that far you are needlessly shortening their life.

I gave the job of rescuing this pair to Stephen Haughton, maintenance master and owner of Burford Valet Service. While most of Stephen’s work involves looking after the wardrobes of the rich and famous – spot cleaning and hand pressing their suits while they’re away in a second or third residence – he also takes on some general cleaning and refurbishment work for us plebs.

Stephen replaced the welts on John’s shoes, replaced the heel and added a new, full leather sole. Because of the excessive wear and lack of care, there were also a few places in which the leather had been worn down or lost its colouration. So it was cleaned, creamed and then antiqued to blend the new colour with the existing wear. The service cost £160. Without the excessive wear, and therefore need to replace the welt or the whole heel, it would have been nearer £100.

As John said, receiving the rescued pair delightedly, they felt like an entirely new shoes. Let’s hope he’s learnt his lesson.

Interview: Mariano Rubinacci

For some, largely those of Neapolitan extraction or who had heard of the brand five years ago, Rubinacci is a bespoke tailor. For others, mostly followers of The Sartorialist and the Cult of Luca, it is a readymade boutique stocking the knitted ties, handkerchiefs and heady colours the younger Rubinacci has made famous.

Mariano Rubinacci, Luca’s father and current owner of the house, is keen to emphasise that Rubinacci does both. Bespoke is still the majority of the business, even in London. But readymade and accessories are expanding quickly: Rubinacci launches its first wholesale line in Harrod’s in September. Fittingly, the collection is entitled ‘Luca’s Wardrobe’.

“Bespoke is still the mainstay of the business,” said Mariano when he met Permanent Style during a visit to London this week. “Our version of a hopsack is been incredibly popular this year, for example.”

That cloth (shown above) is woven exclusively for Rubinacci in England and is a lightweight but rough worsted with an open weave. Only available in navy, grey and pinstripe, it was introduced six years ago and has been a mainstay of the house’s summer collection ever since. The silk lining makes it even lighter, as does the lack of any lining in the arms – something English men will find particularly unusual. (Bespoke jacket, £3,300.)

But without any personal experience of bespoke at Rubinacci, it is inevitably the ready-to-wear that catches my eye. The reversible cashmere jackets – modelled by Luca in his advertising for the new Harrod’s franchise (£1,900) – unlined tweed overcoats and knitwear all have wonderful individual touches. The pink tweeds, in particular, could only be dreamed up by Luca. The graphic, almost Inca-like print scarves are slightly less to my taste. The suit underneath has to be pretty plain to pull those off.


The silk scarves handkerchiefs famously feature scenes from Neapolitan history or landscapes surrounded by figures of the day, usually designed by Mariano. Not that you can see any of that when a handkerchief is poking from your breast pocket, but the variety of colours does make them very versatile accessories.

“We always try to include a little of Naples in the designs,” says Mariano, “whether that’s Vesuvius, the palace or the opera house.” The latter is the oldest continuously active venue for opera in Europe.

Ties are soft, floaty but strictly speaking untipped rather than unlined. They come in three-fold and seven-fold, both hand-rolled at the tip and the latter containing significantly less lining than the former. Indeed, the seven fold’s lining begins so far up the tie that it is pretty irrelevant to the hang of the front blade. The bar tack is unusually high also, adding to the flighty flow of the silk.

“In Italy, tipping was introduced in the last century just because there was a scarcity of women that could hand-roll the edges,” says Mariano. “It began to be machined down, or sewn roughly, and then covered up with the extra layer of silk. We like to do it the traditional way.”

Then there’s the lime umbrellas, some with big knobs of wood for the handles. And the china, the fragrance… Men of the world should feel pretty lucky that the taste of Harrod’s – and the development of Rubinacci’s new website – means they will soon have broad access to a true innovator of cloth and colour.



Photography: Andy Barnham

Four-inch waistband and self straps

To Palm Beach via the French Riviera

Esquire, February 1938: "Here are two important new fashions in beach wear. On the left, the combination of the new mocha-coloured linen and cotton-mixed beach shirt, made in collarless style, with seaweed-colour beach slacks that are as new in cut as they are in colour, distinguised by the four-inch waistband with self straps and buckles. The sandals are of natural colour and twine with leather soles and heels.

The other sketch shows the new beach suit in cote blue, of which the shorts are cut rather full and long, with a vent at the side, after the Tyrolean shorts from which they originally derived. The colour is that worn by the French militia, a flattering shade to men of all ages, particularly to the suntanned. The suit is two-piece, the shorts in a linen or mixed linen and cotton and the shirt in a lighter weight of the same material. The shirt carries a high set collar, four-button front, half sleeves and two patch pockets."

I never liked espadrilles with open toes like that. But I do love trousers with double buckles. And shorts. Any tips where some good ones can be found anyone?

Bespoke shoes at Cleverley: Part 8

Finally, I get to put my GJ Cleverley shoes on. This is the first fitting, following the shoe being lasted and a welt sewn on by Andy last month.

The shoe has no sole, but the welt is sewn around the front and braced at the back, with a temporary heel nailed on so I can wander around the shop and see how they feel. The plastic shank has also been glued on - Cleverley generally prefers plastic to wood for shanks because of their realiability. Some wooden shanks can squeak.

The joints on the shoe look to be in the right place – the points at which my big and little toes connect to the foot lining up perfectly with the widest points of the shoe. The quarters are tight to the ankle, but far enough away from the ankle bone to avoid any unpleasant rubbing. (Interestingly, George Glasgow comments that Japanese men tend to have their ankle bones proportionately lower than western counterparts, so the quarters have to be scooped rather lower.)

The waist of the shoe is very sculpted and high, tight to the arch of the foot. And the ankle is held snugly but comfortably. The toe box is pretty long, but that is standard for the Anthony Cleverley style that I picked; the classic George Cleverley would be shorter and squarer.

The only area that could be improved, which George (Glasgow) points out, is the vamp. There is rather a lot of excess room between the joints. That can be felt when I walk around the shop, as the excess leather bites rather into the joints of my toes and pinches the edge of the little toe. And while the facings do not seem that loose, they are laced pretty tightly – you want a good half inch of gap between the tops, or lips. If there was that amount of space here, the shoe would be pretty loose.

So George removes the shoe and retakes his measurements on the joints, just behind the joints, on the arch and the heel. These will be compared to initial measurements and the last adjusted accordingly, with a little probably being scooped out of the cone. The welt will be then taken off (at least the back part of the shoe) and it will be relasted.

A second fitting in three or four weeks (Andy being away for a couple of those, and it always being a bad idea to change makers halfway through a shoe.)

You can’t rush these things.