Prince of Wales at Henry Poole: Part 9

The final part this, in the series on having a Prince of Wales suit made at Henry Poole. In the end we went with a 4x4 finish on the front, with grey buttons instead of brown. I decided 2x2 would be a little too flashy, but am experimenting with the 4x4 as two display buttons can always be added later. So far, I’m pleased with the effect. It has much the same effect as a 6x4, but gives a cleaner look to the chest.

[For the reader who asked for details on how to refer to buttons on a DB, check out the second post in this series.]

I used to go for brown buttons on most suits, particularly navy ones, as it suited brown leather shoes and gave the suit a touch of personality. I’m changing my mind on grey suits, particularly as I’m wearing more non-brown shoes than previously.

I was pleased with the shape of the chest and lapels. It is typical of what should be thought of as distinctive of Henry Poole: a balance, an average; in a way nothing distinctive at all, merely what they consider the poise of understated elegance. My Anderson & Sheppard DBs are more distinctive, for example, with greater belly to the lapel and a thicker collar. This is accentuated by drape in the chest and a slightly more nipped waist. But I like this Poole shape – in a more conservative cloth, it would make a great business suit.

I didn’t realise until now that Poole usually has just one buttonhole in the lapels of a DB suit. They are happy to add another, and I may do that later on, but it is interesting that one more oft-mentioned marker of a bespoke suit is nothing of the sort (compare with working buttons on the cuffs at Anderson & Sheppard). Bespoke is all about the fit, of course, rather than these extraneous details, but the coincidence is nice – just as some ready-to-wear DBs are adding another lapel buttonhole to make them look expensive, you discover the founder of Savile Row doesn’t do it anyway.

I’ve had the suit for a couple of weeks now and it’s still settling down. But I will probably be taking the waist on the trousers in a little and lowering the fork. These small adjustments are inevitable with a first suit, if only because you are measured and fitted while static, in an alien environment. The adjustments will be made and my pattern changed accordingly, ready for the next suit.

Bespoke shoes at Cleverley 13: The wear report

Well, I was wrong. Six months ago I made the point, following the collection of my first pair of shoes from Cleverley, that the benefits of bespoke shoes were more about comfort than aesthetics; in contrast with a bespoke suit, where the benefits are more in how it makes you look.

You can see why it makes sense. The aesthetic improvements in a bespoke shoe are more subtle than those of a suit. The closely cut waist and gently pitched heel don’t grab everyone’s attention; but a bespoke suit makes you look leaner, stronger and taller to everyone, instantly.

Regarding comfort, a bespoke suit can help with its high armhole and correctly cut trousers, but the difference over ready-to-wear is not as marked as with bespoke shoes, where your ankle is held precisely and every joint subtly shaped around. So much more pressure goes onto your feet and so much more pain can result.

Yet while my Cleverley shoes certainly fit better than any ready-to-wear, the thing I can’t stop admiring is the aesthetics: that line through the waist and instep, the way the heel segues into the heel cup; it makes the whole shoe seem much more delicate and refined.

When I look at old pictures of movie stars in the 1930s, my eye now often goes first to their feet, to see if I can spot that slender arch and pitched heel. It looks particularly good on men from that era, who often wore wider trousers that dropped straight from the natural waist. That long, wide leg makes the shoes seem more delicate still, almost hidden save for the narrow heel and elongated front.

Of course, there are things about my Cleverleys that I want to, that I will, change. Such is the curse of bespoke: nothing is ever quite perfect, or not for long anyway.

Aesthetically I should have gone for a deeper brown leather; this one was a little too reddish. I might also have matched the line of brogueing across the toe cap with another line elsewhere. In terms of fit, they are a little close on my little toes, particularly on the right foot. You could also tweak the height of the vamp just above the right toe.

The great aspects of the fit barely need repeating, but those I notice most are the tight hold around the ankle and heel, which removes any chance of rubbing and allows the front of the foot to flex freely, and the adjustment for my low instep, which permits more purchase with the laces than any ready-to-wear pair. These benefits come to the fore after a long day's walking - a day in Paris with a surprising number of cobbles springs to mind - when the back half of the shoe clings resolutely to the foot and there are no signs of friction, anywhere.

Improved fit and longevity have to be worth something for you to spend more than £2000 on a pair of shoes. After all, most of the aesthetic aspects can be approached by high-end ready-to-wear shoes or cast-off bespoke pairs (like my other Cleverleys). But for the moment, all I can do is stare at that beautiful, sculpted waist.

Gaziano & Girling: Deco

Latest from The Rake:

Devils in Deco

Five years ago Tony Gaziano and Dean Girling were a breath of fresh air in British shoemaking. Now, with the startlingly elegant Deco line, they’re determined to do it all over again

Simon Crompton

You have to feel it’s a good time for shoes. In the past year we have seen the launch of Anthony Cleverley, Top Drawer from Edward Green and now Deco from Gaziano & Girling. All superlative ranges of shoes, sold on their craft and priced over £1000. The market is in accord: men now value the handcraft that goes into a pair of English shoes so much that they are willing to pay twice the previous standard for high-end footwear. Around half the price of bespoke, and they aren’t even made bespoke – made to order, for sure, but without the fitting and individual last that stands bespoke clothing apart.

These aspects of aesthetics are now considered extremely important: a bevelled waist, with the upper cut very close to the sole, by hand, to create a rounded, enveloping effect on the arch; heels that are pitched forward in line with the heel cup, or narrowed, so that they continue the line of that slim waist; and extra hand finishing on the upper, to echo the look of an old, bespoke pair of favourites.

This trend is great news for the industry, for the continuation of craft and for us, the consumers. It also proves wrong one long-held theory of mine regarding the difference between bespoke shoes and bespoke suits. For while both excel in their long-term value and level of craft, I always felt a bespoke suit made much more of a difference to the way a man looked. No one goes back to ready made suits once they’ve had bespoke; most men continue to buy both bespoke and ready made shoes.

The waist and heel treatment of bespoke shoes seemed too minor to be important – something valued only by the obsessives. It seems I was wrong: men are willing to pay hundreds of pounds for those details alone.

Pushing the envelope

For many, Tony Gaziano and Dean Girling kickstarted this renaissance in men’s footwear when they set up together five years ago. Their bespoke shoes and bench-made styles were a breath of fresh air in an industry that had produced the same lace-ups in black, brown and tan for decades. Not that Tony and Dean changed the colour of the shoes – it was the style that really stood out.

Gaziano & Girling shoes were sculpted, with a more angular look than anything else on the market at the time. They featured a sharp, squared toe, a distinctive pointed toe cap and an angled finish to the waist that was instantly identifiable. The response among shoe fans, particularly on the various internet fora, was rapturous – in part because of Tony and Dean’s individual engagement with these customers. Although they are now stocked everywhere from Johannesburg to Tokyo, San Francisco to Geneva, the pair seem to have managed to retain this personal touch.

If imitation is the highest form of flattery, Tony and Dean have been highly praised. But having changed the lens on footwear five years ago, they are determined to do so again. Deco, which launched in January 2011 at Pitti Uomo in Florence, takes their aesthetic one step further.

As the photography here hopefully demonstrates, the waist treatment is akin to that of a bespoke shoe – indeed, sharper than a lot of bespoke. The waist is cut close by hand, curving naturally with the shape of the upper to accentuate the sweep right round the shoe. The heel narrows noticeably as it approaches the waist and is pitched ever so slightly, both operations requiring the heel stack to be cut by hand.

Running forward, the waist hits a sharp corner before joining the forepart of the sole. This corner, together with the slim waist, creates a ‘spade’ effect that apparently used to be quite widespread on bespoke shoes. It certainly highlights the contrast with the waist.

The uppers do their best to compete. More elongated than earlier Gaziano & Girling styles, they somehow manage to make even those angular models look blobby. Black suede and grey alligator mix with the black Deco leather, which is dyed more shallowly than previous skins to produce a luminescent effect. And topping off the look, a slight bleaching to toes here and there to give a grey, antique appearance. Very 1920s.

Which is the period that inspired Tony and Dean. “The 1920s was such a great time for men’s clothing. The gentry as a whole was very consistent in its style back then, in the sharp silhouettes and exuberant fashion. We rather took to the look, and tried to resurrect its elegance in the shapes of the Deco line,” says Dean.

The shapes and the finish too, were inspired by vintage. “We were looking through old bespoke models and were inspired by the clean lines of the shoes, the elegant waists and slim toes. And the bleaching finish is something that often develops on an old shoe over time. You can see it in the old models in shoemakers’ windows,” says Dean.

This effect on the upper is achieved using an alcohol-based cleaner – the same you would use to strip back the surface of an old pair of crust-leather shoes in order to refurbish them. A little of that across the leather bleaches it as the dye in the skin is stripped away.

A joint history

Tony and Dean met at GJ Cleverley, where Tony was designing and selling and Dean was a freelance maker, also working for Foster and Son and John Lobb (where he trained). When Tony went to Edward Green to set up a bespoke business there in 2003, Dean started making shoes for them as well. Tony had worked at Edward Green before joining Cleverley.

They worked together and slowly began to come up with their own design ideas, with a particular concentration on the fiddle waist – something John Lobb had never done while Dean was there. After three years, Dean convinced Tony to leave and set up together. So in September 2006 they began selling bespoke together, with Dean doing the making and Tony the design (he had originally trained as an architect, where Dean came from a family of shoemakers).

The pair did their first show in New York that October. In 2009 they set up their own factory in Kettering, just outside Northampton, to expand ready-to-wear and give them a permanent base. In the past year RTW has really taken off, with some big private label clients, new stockists around the world and new staff joining every few months. It’s not the kind of thing that was meant to happen any more in British manufacturing.

Tony and Dean’s shoes are not hard to like. Their joint passion for the design and construction of fine men’s shoes has produced some startling models and spurred an entire industry. But it’s really on a personal level that they inspire, which explains the lasting popularity of their bespoke. Owning a pair of these shoes is one thing, having one made for you quite another.

Photography: Andy Barnham

Bespoke blue voile shirt

It was a pleasure having dinner with Will of A Suitable Wardrobe in San Francisco last week, if only for the wonderful food at Kokkari and Eleni, our lovely waitress. But perhaps most sartorially significant was that I picked up two metres of blue voile.

The cloth is that offered by Will on his online store: a fine cotton voile woven in France on 18th-century looms. The description of it as extremely lightweight but not transparent is accurate, fortunately for me as I am more likely to wear it without a jacket than many bespoke customers, certainly including Will.

It will be taken to Turnbull & Asser this week, where I have had all my shirts made for the past two years, and made up in a button-down, single-cuff bespoke shirt. I have never previously brought my own cloth to T&A, so this will be a new experience and one that could open up a new world of shirting possibilities.

T&A charges £120 to make up the shirt, which is pretty good value considering a standard bespoke shirt from them costs £200 and Will’s cloth set me back $110, or around £70.

It also allows me to expand beyond the range of cloths on offer at T&A, which is broad in some ways but limited in others. There is an impressive range of multicoloured stripes, many of them unique to T&A. But as 90% of my shirts are plain blue, I’m more interested in experimenting with cloths and weaves than I am with colours. Frankly, I find a strongly striped shirt limits too much what pattern and colour can be worn elsewhere.

(Though it should be said T&A recently began offering some cotton/cashmere blends, a blue version of which is also on order, despite it being entirely the wrong time of year. It is accompanied in that order by a blue hairline stripe – an illustration of the minimal texture I prefer.)

I’ll report back on the process and results.

Five tips on looking better in a suit

At a party last week a nice young man asked me what my top five tips would be for wearing suits. It sounded like a nice practical question, so here we go:


1. Have a ready-to-wear suit altered
Most men that buy suits don't have them altered, but for £50-£100 you can make the suit look twice as good and twice as expensive. Always put that money aside in your budget when buying ready-to-wear. Make sure the neck and shoulders fit well when you try it on; don't worry about the waist (trousers or jacket) or length of sleeves or legs. Then get all those points altered - and make sure it's done by someone good, preferably a tailor, so the waist adjustment is worked effectively into the chest and skirt.

2. Button your jacket
There's no point having a suit that fits if you don't button it up. When you're standing, it should be buttoned. Always the waist button (top on a two-button suit, middle on a three-button), never the bottom button and only the top if it's a three-button suit with no roll. As the folks at Wilkes Bashford put it to me yesterday: remember 'sometimes, always, never' when looking down a three-button jacket.

3. Made to measure and bespoke is worth the money
In the UK you may find that a ready-to-wear suit costs around £400, made to measure is £600 and bespoke over £1000. Each one is worth that money in terms of how it will fit, aside from questions of quality or longevity. Some body shapes get more out of MTM or bespoke, given their lack of average proportions, but I maintain that it is worth the money for anyone. Spend your money on these levels of fit rather than on bigger labels or more expensive cloths: a bigger Super 100s number just means it's thinner.

4. Spend money on shoes
Whenever you see someone in a nice suit, the next thing you do is look down. And their shoes nearly always disappoint. Too many sharp suits are worn with sharp (read pointy) shoes. This is largely because cheap oxfords and derbys put men off and they don't think it's worth spending hundreds of pounds on shoes. It is. Spend at least half the money you're spending on your suit on a good pair of shoes. A bespoke suit deserves Edward Green, not Barker.

5. Have some colour, somewhere
If you don't like ties, that's fine. But for god's sake find a way to wear some colour somewhere else. A pocket handkerchief, a cardigan, anything. There's nothing more depressing that seeing a group of young men outside a pub where everyone is wearing a dark suit, a blue shirt and plain shoes. You all look the same and you all look dull. Find another way to introduce colour or, reconsider the tie. There are few enough excuses for a man to wear coloured silk around his neck without fear of ostracism. Take advantage of it.

Brown and satin for evening, anyone?

Newest for warm weather evening wear

Esquire, June 1935: "Don't be alarmed - your white dinner jacket, single or double-breasted, has not suddenly been repealed. Your mess jacket has, of course, but you knew that last year. And yet, while the white dinner jacket is established, and the off-white (that is, tan) is arrived, the double-breasted of midnight blue tropical weight cloth is very definitely en route to high fashion importance, and it's our bounden duty to warn you.

"It has shiny black satin lapels and is worn with a semi-stiff pleated bosom dress shirt, a white starched turn-over collar and a black dress tie of the semi-butterfly shape, sheer silk hose and black patent leather evening pumps. This outfit, down to the small detail afforded by the blue cornflower boutonniere, has been seen in significant numbers at the Everglades club and the Colony Club at Palm Beach, presaging its importance this summer."

I find it a little disorientating, all this dicussion of fashions in what we today consider permanent style. Puts the lie to arguments about the fixed nature of formal evening wear though. A different style every season - and satin on the lapels, which is generally looked down upon (if only because it is cheaper and as such used more in ready-to-wear).

More talk of unusual colours, this time off-white being tan and not Burma. Whatever the name, it's hard to see many today espousing what is a very light brown as evening wear.

Le Snob: Tailoring

About two years after the project was first discussed, and a year after I finished writing the thing, my first book is finally out. It is part of a series of books called ‘Le Snob’, with expert views on such hedonistic hobbies as whisky, cigars, champagne, lingerie and tailoring (with only the latter being written by me).

It is being published in a handful of countries, with Germany coming first (out now, in German, on www.amazon.de) and the UK and Australia coming in August.

Le Snob: Tailoring is a small, pocket-sized guide to all aspects of buying suits, from finding quality ready-to-wear to selecting cloth for a bespoke linen jacket. It covers having suits altered, the advantages of made-to-measure and tips on visiting a proper tailor for the first time.

I’m also glad to say there are personal contributions from many of tailoring’s leading lights, including Pat Murphy from Huntsman, John Hitchcock of Anderson & Sheppard, Antonio de Matteis from Kiton, Patrick Grant and Michael Drake. In a ‘Words from the Wise’ section in each chapter, they give their advice on cloth, colour combinations and standing naturally when you’re being measured.

There are chapters on style icons, black tie, maintenance, and something brief on accessories. There is also a short glossary and a list of recommended tailors around the world.

For those that are regular readers of this blog, much of the information may be familiar. And it is not as comprehensive as Flusser’s Dressing the Man. But it is, I hope, a good introduction to those wanting to explore the world of tailoring for the first time.

I hope you like it. I would say look out for number two, but that’s only just been started and it might be another couple of years before it sees the light of day.

 

Variations on the summer dinner jacket

The Burma shade summer dinner jacket

Esquire, August 1936: "The old summer formal combination of blue jacket and white flannels got the gong because of its obvious incongruity with summer evening dresses.

"Hence the white dinner jacket was welcomed with open arms and although its vogue was threatened momentarily by the ridiculous mess jacket craze, it has since gained ground each season, its position being strengthened rather than weakened by the introduction of such colour touches as the use of dark green or midnight blue bow ties with matching cummerbund and hose.

"The single-breasted white shawl collar dinner jacket, however, remains entrenched as the most popular summer formal garment. There has been a tendency to go in for colour in dinner jackets, and the grey double-breasted in the background has limited fashionable acceptance. But the favourite deviation from the norm of white is the new Burma shade, shown in the foreground."

As ever, the discussion over the dominant colour in evening wear is more interesting than the accessories. I can't condone green bow ties or cummerbunds, but Burma or grey is genuinely interesting. Just like brown and midnight blue, mohair and silk, it adds depth and subtle interest.

Old-world craft at Lotuff & Clegg

About two years ago our desk lamp broke. The man who owned the electrical shop down the road from my mum was good at repairing these things, so we took it to him and had it repaired for £20. Last month another lamp broke, but the shop has since shut so we threw it away and bought a new one. Apparently the owner found it hard to compete with the big electrics stores and repairs didn’t bring in much money.

This occurred to me recently because Joe Lotuff used a similar example to describe American consumerism today. “When I was young you bought a good toaster and had it repaired when it went wrong,” he says. “Today you buy one for $19, made in China, and throw it away when it breaks. It goes into landfill and you buy another for $19.”

But Joe is optimistic. “I think the reaction to well-made American products, like our bags, shows that people are ready for a change.”

Joe and his brother Rick came from a family of textile manufacturers in the US. In 1996, tired of operating a business based on beating down costs, they founded an American bag company with Frank Clegg. Frank is a third-generation leather craftsman, coming from a family that originally ran tanneries in London.

Their reaction against cheap, imported goods leads to the following Lotuff & Clegg philosophy: simple and functional leather bags that are made to last. Hardware is minimised because this is often the point at which a bag breaks. Few zips are used for the same reason, and where they are used they are always straight. Curved zips create stress that shortens their life. “I must have half a dozen things up in the attic where the zips have gone,” says Frank. “They’re not easy to replace.”

The bags are usually unlined for the same reason; linings are a weak point. Plus, leaving them unlined shows off the quality of the leather being used, with no room for faults in the skin or errors in the interior construction. The leathers are all vegetable-tanned, cut from big skins where the colours of the leather can be easily matched at the edges.

Function is equally important. The handles (all made of six layers of leather) are tested to fit into the hand, perfected to the quarter of an inch. The handles of the duffle bag are also made to fit into each other, making carrying them more comfortable.

Joe is a fan of many brands featured on Permanent Style. He likens the way one of his bags feels better in the hand to the superiority of an Anderson & Sheppard suit over Ralph Lauren Purple Label. It is impossible to know why they feel better unless you know how they are made. But the difference in quality can be spotted immediately, by anyone.

A bag doesn’t have the same personal aspects of fit as a suit. But aesthetics too are elevated by craft and attention to detail – Joe likens it to the rounded waist of a bespoke shoe (he’s a Cleverley customer of some standing).

Having experienced Lotuff & Clegg bags, I can attest to the truth of everything Joe says. They remind me most of Judy Bown’s bags here in the UK, of which I have used the overnight cabin bag for two years now and it continues to get better with age.

Most of all though, I love Joe’s attitude and his optimism. While based on the thinking that lay behind “companies like those of my father and Frank’s, which had no more than 300 accounts”, he has created a successful American brand online that will be in several of the country’s big department stores later in the year. He has used the scope of the internet to “hang a shingle outside the store and see who’s interested”, and seen such a response that there is already a substantial backlog. One British customer recently ordered two bags, then after they arrived ordered another three, so thrilled was he when he saw them in the flesh.

It’s great to hear.

There’s a good video showing some of the construction here and the leather here.

Drake's finally gets its own store

I know the Boris Bike stations around Old Street pretty well now, such is the number of times I have hopped on a bike near my office and ridden up to the Drake’s factory on Garrett Street. It’s only a 20-minute walk, but it’s a five-minute cycle ride.

I love Drake’s, from the classic Italian colours of its ties to the fantastic quality of its socks. But all too often I want to feel these products in my hand before I buy them. Or, more recently, I want to try them on – a need that has increased with Drake’s growing range of knitwear, hats and nightwear. Michaels Drake and Hill were kind enough to let me come up and do that regularly, but it was hardly ideal for anybody.

Now, finally, everyone can do it first hand. The first Drake’s shop, a mere 34 years after it was founded, is opening on Clifford Street. It’s a gorgeous location, on the same block as Richard James and just opposite his bespoke branch. There’s little clue as to what it will look like inside, other than the building site documented on the Drake’s site. But then the focus should be on the ties, hanks and scarves, not the interior decoration.

The opening date was originally set for this Thursday, but I understand the building work has set that back a bit. We’re now looking at the end of May, so keep your eyes on the Drake’s site for a final confirmation. And what will likely be a great opening party.

Golden Lane, by the way, is your best bet for parking the Boris Bike. Two stations and they are normally half empty.

Prince of Wales at Henry Poole: Part 8

A second forward fitting on the Henry Poole double-breasted last week, with Craig hoping that this would be ready to finish off and deliver.

A few last tweaks were required, however. The chest still needed more clearing under the right arm, a problem pointed out on the previous post. John had been a little tentative here and the adjustment needed to be taken that little bit further. The drape on the back under the arm also had to be taken in a tiny bit, showing there had been too much fullness on that side both at front and back.

The only other small change was shortening the right sleeve by a quarter inch. Again, the previous adjustment had not been taken far enough. Craig would always hope to complete a suit with two fittings, but it can sometimes take three or four. Let’s hope this one stays at three.

Craig and I also decided to finish off the jacket with two buttons rather than the six originally planned. I had this style on my first ever bespoke suit – a grey flannel DB from Edward Tam in Hong Kong – and I’ve liked it ever since. The effect might prove a little too rakish, but it might also be a nice contemporary counterweight to what is a very classic suit.

And you can always add on buttonholes and buttons later. You can’t take them out.

Long-sleeved polos for summer

It’s depressing to see what men wear on hot days. Baggy shorts, ill-fitting polo shirts and logo-plastered T-shirts. But then it’s also hard to find smart, tailored clothes suitable for high temperatures. One often overlooked option is a long-sleeved polo shirt, such as the one pictured above from John Smedley. Al Bazar in Milan also does a great sportier option with Guy Rover, both retailing for just over £100.

A long-sleeved polo shirt is cooler than most shirts, with its open weave, but is smart enough to wear under casual, unlined jackets. Without a jacket, the sleeves can be rolled up just like a shirt to be more casual and cooler. Models like those from Smedley and Al Bazar are more fitted than a normal polo shirt, making them more suited to tailored trousers or shorts. The same goes for their finer fibres and even finish around the bottom.

T-shirts suit few men. A collar is more flattering on the neck and lengthens the torso. Long sleeves are smarter, cleaner and more stylish – as anyone who has seen colleagues in short-sleeved shirts will attest. Wear them with slim-fitting chinos and an unstructured cashmere blazer. Or tailored shorts. For chinos, I particularly recommend Incotex’s lightweight line, as stocked by Trunk Clothiers.

New versions of Sam Cundey's special red tie

The Henry Poole burgundy that was seen as the lining and overcheck on my DB suit has always been used as the colour for the Sam Cundey special red tie. This year that is being expanded into a full range of ties on the same, indivudal weave design.

The design was first introduced by Sam in the 1950s (above, with Howard, right, and Angus, left). He started at Poole in 1924, in the Paris branch on Rue Tronchet. In the fifties he came up with this design in response to the fancier checks and stripes of the period. It has a black warp that softens whichever single colour is used in the weft, giving the tie a sober feel. But I particularly like the silver, pictured below in close-up, which becomes a nice take on a classic Spitalfield. Standard three-fold construction and self-tipped, handmade in England.