A short guide to ties

Printed (50oz royal twill)

As more men wear ties to work again, it is important to understand the small but important differences between the textures of ties. This is essentially what drives the formality of a tie, and many men when returning to ties will want to keep this formality to a minimum, to compensate for the formality of the tie itself.

Most ties are made of a printed or woven silk. A woven silk, as it has more texture, will usually be less formal, though satin is the most formal silk – as it’s the shiniest. Throughout I link to examples from Drake’s, so you can get an idea of the variations.

Woven

Woven silk comes in lots of different variations, but the only alternative you really need to be aware of is grenadine, which is a noticeably thicker weave – and itself comes in large and small knots. Then there’s knitted silk, which is a yet chunkier texture. You’ll be most familiar with it in thin, squared-end ties.

Grenadine

Moving away from silk, we have wool, linen and mixes of both with silk. Although the weave may be finer than a knitted silk, for example, any wool or linen tie is more casual than any silk because of its matte texture. The same goes for madder.

Silk and linen

Within these alternative materials, the rule remains though – a silk mix is smarter than a cashmere is smarter than a chunky wool.

Cashmere

Why care about formality? Because if you’re wearing a tie for the first time in a while and want something a little more casual, a knitted silk may be a great idea but wool not smart enough. That will certainly be the case for most client meetings in most industries, for example. As Bruce Boyer has it, "there's just a touch of sartorial audacity in a silk knitted tie that's oddly liberating."

Have fun with the world of ties.

Pierre Corthay, London glaçage evening

I had a lovely evening last week at the first of Corthay’s glaçage events – that’s a high polish to you and me. Myself and three Frenchmen, quietly polishing our Corthays and getting tips on technique from maitre patineur, Thomas Kalflo.

Thomas

Francois

Mathieu

Oddly enough, it turned out that myself, customer Mathieu Pinson and store manager Francois Pourcher were all wearing Wilfrids, in the same colour. All very different ages – mine were bought three years ago at Leffot, Mathieu’s were bought three weeks ago in London – but equally in need of a polish.

Thomas’s glaçage tips were very helpful. I’ve always thought my polishing technique was pretty good, but it’s definitely improved since that evening. His tips, therefore:

- Begin with a layer of cream. Don’t overapply, and wipe off any excess before applying wax. Can be applied with a brush or cloth, but don’t use the same cloth for cream and polish. You want to retain the latter, and cream will slowly destroy a cloth.

- Ideally leave the cream to dry for an hour, even overnight. This is not so it soaks into the leather, but rather that if that layer is not dry, you will work some of it away with the wax.

Mathieu's Wilfrids with cream drying

- Work one layer of wax all round the shoe. Just one. Then apply multiple layers to just the toe and heel (which will not crease and so break the glaçage).

- Don’t be afraid to apply too much polish. And add a touch of water each time you do. One way to make sure you don’t add too much water is to dip your finger in it and tap onto the shoe. That way you just add a single drop, whereas with a cloth it can soak in and be hard to control the volume.

- Glaçage is about polishing lightly and fast. The speed is necessary to work up heat. The lightness is important because otherwise you break into layers underneath, removing their effect.

- The role of water is really just to make sure you skim over the surface, not pressing too hard. You can achieve the same effect without water, but it takes much longer.

- You can feel when a layer is complete: the surface becomes ultra smooth. At that point swap to the other shoe, so the first one has time to dry, then swap back again.

- Work on your knees. It is the shoemaker’s table.

- Hold the shoe in your left (or non-polishing) hand, between thumb and forefinger. Perhaps more than one finger. But hold it like that so you can move easily all round the shoe.

- Glaçage wasn’t originally an aesthetic practice, but intended to make the shoe’s toe splash-proof.

My Wilfrids at the end of the process

Francois's Arcas

I’m aware this would be better with video. Next time, I promise.

In the meantime, congratulations to Francois, Thomas and Pierre for a beautiful shop and I’m glad it’s going so well.

Grey croc Arca (bespoke)

Graham Browne: Neapolitan lining

As mentioned in a previous post on this jacket, Graham Browne used the inspiration of my Rubinacci jacket to work on an alternative construction to the half-lined jacket.

The same cloth (Harrison's Moonbeam) is used in the internal lining of the front quarters, around the ticket pocket and inbreast pockets. Interestingly, although there is no pen pocket on the inside of the right forepart (above), the stepped lining is retained for the sake of consistency.

The patch pockets have more shape than some from English tailors, narrowing more towards the top and echoing the curve of the forepart, but the style is still less accentuated than on Neapolitan coats.

Davide Taub joins Gieves & Hawkes

Davide Taub left Maurice Sedwell a few weeks ago to become senior cutter at Gieves & Hawkes. He replaces Kathryn Sargent, who left at the beginning of the year to set up on her own with a board over at Meyer & Mortimer.

I know Davide relatively well from various MTBA dinners; he is a man who says little but cuts with flair. That much should be obvious from his blog – there is a tendency there for sharp cuts, shape through the waist and real innovation. I’m a particular fan of the quilted bib.

It is Gieves’s stated aim to create an identifiable house cut and Davide is certainly the man for that. He is also known for fastidious tailoring, which will be a great strength for Gieves too. I very much look forward to seeing how Davide and Gieves develop over the next few years.

Davide knows Russell and Dan well from his days at Kashket’s – he was there from 2001-2004 before joining Maurice Sedwell, where he also won the Golden Shears in 2005. Davide was then director and assistant cutter at Edward Sexton from 2008, before becoming head cutter at Sedwell in 2010.

Davide was effectively running the show at Maurice Sedwell, so the change has brought back Andrew Ramroop from sunnier climes to take over more of the day-to-day business. Let’s hope he finds a strong replacement.

Davide won't be going on the next Gieves trip to Chicago and New York for the Spring US trunk show (dates below) but will be in the future. The trip is a great opportunity to see Carreducker bespoke shoes too, which have been written about on this site before. Again, a distinctive style.


USA Trunk Show 2012 - Booking now
Carreducker bespoke shoes and Gieves & Hawkes bespoke tailoring
(along with made-to-measure shirts/suits and accessories)

CHICAGO
March Monday 19th and Tuesday 20th
June Monday 4th and Tuesday 5th
October Monday 29th and Tuesday 30th

NEW YORK
March Thursday 22nd and Friday 23rd
June Thursday 7th and Friday 8th
November Thursday 1st and Friday 2nd

Corgi: The machines

There are three types of knitting machines at Corgi: old, domestic models; double-bed machines; and single-bed machines. All require hand framing – that is, the worker must pull the carriage up and down by hand.

 

The domestic machines are white and lie flat on the table. They were designed for individual use and are nowhere near as strong as the other two types. They exist at Corgi because Lisa Jones, who took over the company with brother Chris from their father 14 years ago, had one during her textiles design course as a student. She used it to make her final exam pieces and, when she joined the family company, began experimenting with it for new designs.

The advantage of these machines is their flexibility. They can make almost anything, but slowly and do well if they last 10 years. They are programmed by punch card, with the designer using something resembling a hole punch to mark out the pattern.

 

The double-bed machines consist of two rows of needles, sitting at an angle of 45 degrees and at right angles to each other. They are used for most of the exciting patterns – the ribs, the cable knits, the tuck stitches (very in this year). One of Corgi’s big selling points is the number of gauges it has for all its machines. It can make anything from single-ply to 12-ply cashmere.

Then there are the single-bed machines, with just one of those rows of needles. They are the only way to do intarsia work, where single colours of yarn are put on individually by hand. Although in theory every thread can be different, the designs tend to be concentrated in the middle of the pieces. Every year Corgi makes a sweater with a different Beatles design on it for Apple in Japan, for example, usually just 15 to 25 pieces. It takes about two hours to knit that front panel. (See previous post for some more examples).

 

My other favourite machines are the hand-wound sock knitter, which dates back to the turn of the century. It is still the only way that you can make cable-knit socks, as the sock has to be taken off and the needles turned around. The inside of the modern machines look exactly the same, just surrounded by casing, automatic feeds of yarn and a computer control.

Then there’s the sock presser. Wooden moulds are used to hold the individual socks before they are inserted between heated wooden panels. You turn a huge handle with red knobs on to press the socks.

One of the vanities of examining production is to assume that every machine is the best for its particular job, at least in the luxury market. But that’s not necessarily the case. This sock presser, for example, is 90 years old. You could buy a much better modern one that uses metal moulds, as seen at Bresciani. But then its capacity would be 10 times what Corgi needed, and cost £40-50,000. Investment has to come gradually or be forced by particular necessity.

It’s nice therefore when you see old machines that perform some unique function. Like the single-beds or the hand-wound sock knitter. And even though hand framing isn’t necessarily better, it is certainly different - you can spot a hand-framed cable knit anywhere by the lovely openness of its weave.

Thank you Huw, Chris and Lisa.

Corgi: Factory visit

Corgi is a lovely little company, just outside Swansea in south Wales. It’s been around since 1893 and has the Prince of Wales’s royal warrant. But, more importantly, it’s one of only a few companies left in the UK doing hand-framed knitwear (the other large one being Johnston’s of Elgin).

Being hand framed means that the weaving machine – essentially a long row of thick needles – has to be hand operated, with the worker pulling the metal carriage back and forth across its width. In most pieces of knitwear this makes no difference to the quality, really. But its advantage is that you can make very small runs.

For this reason Corgi works with a lot of fashion designers. Lisa Jones, who together with brother Chris took over the running of the company from their father Huw 14 years ago, tells many stories of designers putting in their orders for the fashion shows with only a few weeks to spare. One prominent American designer phoned up personally and begged for three more pieces for the catwalk show. It was Thursday, and the show was in Paris on Saturday.

“The girls here are a lot more aware of where our knitwear goes these days, which helps when you have last-minute crises like that,” says Lisa. “They came in early on the Friday and stayed late to get the pieces done. But then by the end of Saturday they could see they work on the catwalk on Style.com.”

Designers tend to stay with Corgi until they can afford the minimums required by mechanical machines in Italy. It will be five pieces, then 50, then 250, then nothing. But Corgi know they are expensive, and what their value is. For example, they are one of only two companies in the UK making intarsia garments – where each thread is laid in by hand (the other being Caerlee Mills, the old Ballantyne factory). This can create some wonderfully intricate designs (below). Perhaps not to everyone’s taste, but very fashionable at the moment – and the fashion brands will pay.

The company is also very popular with small shops and high-net-worth individuals who buy for their friends and family. The wife of one prominent politician buys more every Christmas than most other outlets. They shop in the show room. Others arrive in Wales by helicopter.

Corgi only started doing knitwear in the 1960s, when it began an ill-fated partnership with Alan Paine of Godalming. Pleasingly, Paine’s welsh site, next door to Corgi, is a barren field of mud and concrete now. The sign remains and the brand is still going, though the product is made in Turkey.

Corgi began as the maker of socks for welsh miners. It began to innovate in the 1930s and was the first to make Argyles – all by hand in those days – signing its first order with Brooks Brothers in 1939. Unfortunately the war ended that contract pretty swiftly, but Corgi carried on, making socks for the troops.

Over the years it has gone in and out of different ownership, some good and some bad, but has always been run by the Jones family. When Lisa and Chris took over, one of their big steps was to stop making socks under other people’s labels, and try to grow the Corgi brand. That has proved successful, but it meant some painful decisions early on.

In Japan it was relatively easy, because Corgi always had a reputation there and the Japanese love the history of the company. In the US it was a little harder, but has proved the right decision – Barney’s used to sell ‘Barney’s by Corgi’ socks; now it is happy to just sell Corgi. Knitwear is even trickier because much of the work is for designers, and they want to create and sell a complete collection. But several places, such as Isetan in Japan and a few boutiques in the US, now stock Corgi’s own collection.

The stuff itself is beautiful. The socks are mostly short, fun and so won’t be to the taste of most readers (though the cable-knit cashmere socks deserve a special mention). The knitwear, however, was a revelation. The yarns are gorgeous, the designs classic and the hand framing a lovely detail. You can’t buy it direct in the UK, but shop around Savile Row for things made in Wales and you won’t go wrong.

Next week, more on the machines at Corgi.

Michael Drake on style: English worn by the French

I always used to describe my style as how the Italians wear English clothes. Talking to Michael Drake recently though, (whose taste and sense of colour I respect immensely) I think the French might be a better reference point. The Italians are more obvious, because the dress is more consistent, but they also sometimes lack personality for that reason. Or personality is expressed through odd/trendy things like leather bracelets.

In reality, most of western men dress in English clothes. From the French revolution until the 1970s, English business and country dress dominated, with each country taking its own slightly different slant on the lounge suit and the hacking coat, the colours of city and country.

The Americans, as in many things, remained more English than the English. The Latin countries remained very conservative, but stylish nonetheless. The French, it could be argued, found the best combination of this conservatism and English eccentricity.

So to Michael Drake. “I think the French are often a little more understated and a little more chic than the Italians. Italians dress more like sheep; they all look the same. The French tend to be more individual.

“The French like that old English, school look. Even the Hermès jackets are very soft-shouldered, intentionally look very worn very quickly. The Italians, apart from Naples of course, are much more fitted, more self-conscious and deliberately sharper.

“You see men in Paris wearing a tweed jacket with an Hermès tie: it looks like an old schoolboy look but sophisticated with it.

“With colour as well, the Italians tend to be all navy and grey, or if the fashion is pink then they all wear pink. In France it is more varied, and consistently so. Look at the Hermès sweater collection – there are 25 colours or so in there, everything from lime green to orange. The Italians don’t, they’re too trend-driven. French are individual, perhaps even a little eccentric.

“I think my style could be considered English style as worn by the French. But then again, its success was always due to the fact that it was bought by French, Italians and Americans, by the classic and the trendy. Our two first customers were Old England and Agnès B in France – the classic and the trendy. That says it all really.”

Chuc's beach and mountain wear

Anyone that has met Charles Finch will attest that he can be inspiring. Adjectives like convivial seem made for the man. But getting to know him and his relatively new brand Chuc’s over the past few months has made me more interested in the men that inspire him.

Chuc’s aims to make highly functional and stylish clothes for the mountain and the beach. These are broadly inspired by Charles’s grandfather, George Finch (above), who was an innovative chemist and remarkable mountaineer, and Peter Finch, the Oscar-winning actor and Caribbean socialite.

Both were remarkable men; they provide great PR stories for Chuc’s. George climbed Everest with Mallory in 1922 and invented the down-filled jacket. Peter hung out with Errol Flynn, Ian Fleming and Noel Coward and formed an elegant, sun-soaked clique.

But their stories never seem like PR when you talk to Charles. He talks with passion of his grandfather's contemporaries, for example, whom he describes as gentlemen explorers, men of taste who searched for the very best in what they consumed and in their personal pursuits. They were independently wealthy, sportsmen and travellers, characters and bon vivants.

So how on earth is this all reflected in the clothes? Well some pieces take direct inspiration - the safari shirt often pictured on Peter Finch, for example, as well as safari shorts and jackets. Others are an attempt to create similarly well-cut contemporary versions of swim shorts or mountain shorts. But throughout there is an intelligent approach to cut and a real interest in quality.

The chinos, for instance, are cut high in the back to fit much better on the waist than most modern trousers, and have strap-and-buckle side adjustors. The cut of the shorts is similar and while swimming shorts are definitely that, and not designed for walking around town, they feature side adjustors and a quick-drying fabric too.

I'm also a fan of the knitwear, both lightweight and heavy gauge, but perhaps more of that in another post. In the meantime, this is just a note to say it's worth popping into the little shop on Dover Street and having a nose around.

The statement piece

We’ve talked rather a lot in recent weeks about building up the basics in a wardrobe, but less about the statement or accent pieces that can set an outfit apart.

This is because statement pieces are so much harder to get right. They exist outside the normal rules, or customs, and indeed often become statements because they subvert those rules. The key is to subvert just one thing: take a classic piece of clothing and switch its colour or texture, keeping everything else the same.

My favourite statement item is a pair of bright red shoes. I used to know an Italian lawyer who wore these wonderfully. Everything else would always be strictly conservative: navy suit, white shirt, dark tie. But bright red brogues. Often statement pieces require this kind of conservatism elsewhere.

I have a pair of red whole-cuts from JM Weston that perform this role (similar model, above). Lovely shoes, well maintained and polished, worn with the simplest of suit/shirt/tie combinations. Few other bright colours work for shoes. Green, blue, yellow – none of them work with a navy suit unless much darker and so subtler.

Second, the black suede shoe. Where the red shoe introduces an unexpected colour, this is an unexpected texture. Black suede stops the eye dead as it runs over the outfit. Suede absorbs the light where you expect it to reflect. Again, keep it simple elsewhere. Cary Grant, predictably, was a master of this.

Third, the cream waistcoat or sleeveless sweater. Sweater is perhaps safest for those experimenting for the first time. For a neutral colour, cream makes an outfit look remarkably dressy – probably because of the associations with cream and pastel-coloured waistcoats with formal daywear. Because it is so dressy, keep the rest simple still. I like grey flannel myself, with a white shirt.

Other statement accessories are lime green ties (with blue shirt and navy suit) or indeed pastel colours. Ties are particularly difficult to pull of as accents, so make sure to keep the quality high and the patterns simple. Handkerchiefs are a safer bet – ones that go with nothing obvious in the rest of the outfit. I like pink with grey flannel, green or purple with navy worsted.

Have a try once every other area of the wardrobe is covered. But remember: just subvert one aspect, whether colour or texture. Woollen ties with woollen suits work well for similar reasons: it’s exactly what the rules tell you not to do.

Last call for Permanent Style Tweed

Hi all - I'm told that our tweed will start to be woven next week and be completed soon after. That means that there is actually an opening for any last minute orders, to be in by Wednesday morning next week UK time.

So if you want your cloth earlier than the second run, get in touch. Same contact details:
Outside US: info@breanishtweed.co.uk
US: info@jodekinternational.com

Cifonelli jacket in detail

Cifonelli of Paris makes some of the most beautiful tailoring I've ever seen. I thought a post, therefore, on the details of a jacket rather than me rambling on about the technical stuff. Above, the broad lapel of the double-breasted, with gorgeous double-sewn lapel buttonhole. Its raised nature make it an impractical thing, but nonetheless beautiful for it.

Why do English patch pockets frequently have so little curve and character?

The signature brown horn button, polished on the rim and matte on the inside

Lapped shoulder (and in the background, back) seam

Label and pocket flap with handsewn buttonhole

Silk lining and handwork around the inbreast pocket

Signature 'C' on the buggy lining, attaching the two sides across the back

Beautifully attached lining panel over inside vent

Cuff buttonholes, with those buttons and that patch pocket

Otis Batterbee

I like the eye masks and neck pillows from British designer Otis Batterbee.

I’m not going to pretend they’re the greatest piece of craft ever to grace this site, but they are all made with care, in England, and they function well. They are nice and quirky, and there is little else out there competing for a fairly narrow market.

The eye mask I have is in a Prince of Wales suiting and filled with lavender. It is comfortable, unusual and the lavender aroma is effective without being overpowering. The only criticism I would have is that the ribbon attaching it would be more helpful elasticated. It’s annoying to tie it each time so I try to keep it at the right length and squeeze it on.

The neck rest I have is in the same pattern, though using them together might be too much. The rest gets more use though, on any long journey, where the eye mask is only used on long-haul flights.

The fabrics, suitings and velvet, are milled in the UK, with the masks being made in Cheshire. To make them, each mask is cut individually by a pattern cutter before a machinist sews on the piping around the edge and adds the velvet ribbons. They then sew the backing on and turn the mask inside out to insert a quantity of lavender with a small funnel, before hand stiching the hole closed. Finally, it is steamed by a presser. An embroiderer is also employed to add the OB initials.

Steven Hitchcock - the first fitting

This is the basted fitting on a tweed jacket and moleskin trousers from Steven Hitchcock, ex-Anderson & Sheppard cutter and now very successful in his own right.

It is a pocket baste, in that the front edges are unfinished as well as the collar, sleeves etc, but the hip and chest pockets are in. This is more finished than some basted fittings, but less than A&S, which typically goes straight to a forward fitting. That seems odd to most people, but then I never felt the lack with my A&S fittings.

The cloth of the jacket and trousers is wonderful. I didn’t realise quite how pale the blue of the tweed would be, but I like it a lot. It will go particularly well with jeans and an open-collar shirt. The HE Box moleskin, on the other hand, has a wonderful handle despite being lightweight.

At the fitting the length of the jacket was good in the back but rather long in the front, so that will be pulled up. The sleeve length was good, perhaps a tad short, but the shoulders certainly needed taking in. The sleeve itself was tapered exactly how I like it, just big enough for a double-cuff shirt.

Interestingly, Steven had taken the unusual step of having the back seam sewn by hand, so that it could be tightened slightly in the top of my back, between my slightly prominent shoulder blades. This meant that enough drape could be cut to hang well across the blades, but it would not fall in excess between them. This seemed to have worked well, though it is hard to tell at this stage.

The trousers were rather high and the waistband will be lowered an inch. The legs hung very well but were a little too wide for my taste, and so they will be narrowed. A few changes, but then, as they say, this fitting is for the tailor not for me.

Next fitting in a couple of weeks.

Photography: Les Topham-Brown