Permanent style

Steven Hitchcock: a stylish tweed

2012-01-27T09:00:00.011Z

The Rake is running a few articles at the moment around the theme of families, and particularly fathers and sons. Tailoring is particularly strong ground for these relationships, I suppose because it is so male dominated, because cutting is a solo craft and because of the need for long periods of tutelage.

All of which is fitting because for the past few months I’ve been in the process of talking to Steven Hitchcock – son of Anderson & Sheppard head cutter John Hitchcock – about having a jacket and trousers made. John has cut some of my favourite suits, particularly double-breasteds, and I was interested to experiment with ex-A&S cutters who might be similar in style, but of course cheaper.

Steven’s prices start at £2700 (with VAT), a few hundred short of A&S (which is still very reasonable for the Row). He works out of the ground floor of No 13 Savile Row, along with several other cutters. He also visits New York, though only New York, three times a year – indeed will be there next week.

Steven was at Anderson & Sheppard for nine years, half as a coat maker and half as a cutter, before setting up on his own in 1999. He used to have premises on Old Burlington Street, moving when it was demolished, and then at 13 New Burlington Street, which was also redeveloped. His workmates at 13 Savile Row seem remarkably calm given Steven’s track record with buildings and unlucky numbers.

Steven’s style is very much soft tailoring the A&S way. The only differences we discussed were the attitude to darts that run the length of the forepart – perhaps less attractive but then perhaps needed for larger gentlemen – and a greater flexibility around construction and style. We were to aim, for example, for the shoulders of the jacket to be particularly soft and added the style detail of gauntlet cuffs on the sleeves. I think John would raise an eyebrow to gauntlet cuffs.

We picked a pale blue tweed from Holland & Sherry – the SherryTweed bunch – that comes in at just 11 ounces. The trousers, which will probably not be worn with the jacket but rather fill a hole in the wardrobe, will be in an olive green moleskin.

Photography: Les Topham-Brown

Permanent Style growth

2012-01-26T09:00:00.001Z

I finally got round to looking at the analytics last week, and it appears that the traffic on Permanent Style has grown from 140,000 visitors a month to an average of 190,000 without me noticing.

The peak in September and increase in visitors from Japan suggests a certain 'icon' feature may have had something to do with it, but I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their support over the past five years. I do hope you continue to like it, and don't forget to check out The Rake online now as well.

Simon

Buy good English shoes

2012-01-25T14:01:00.001Z

Good English shoes are pretty much always worth the money you pay for them. Three things reminded me of this in recent weeks.

One was a friend’s wedding. After years of buying in the low end of the market, he bought a pair from Crockett & Jones to get married in. I was staggered how good they looked on him. Dark brown Oxfords with a toe cap but no broguing, they were a shining example of how poor the average quality is of men’s shoes. Crockett & Jones are not very expensive, certainly by the standards of some of the brands on this blog, but they looked a million dollars.

Second, a colleague was bemoaning the state of his work shoes and how he needed a new pair. They were cheap, pointy, glued ones from Jones or some such. Because they are made with a corrected grain, the scuffs took away any pretense at leather on the surface. Because they had no internal structure, they curled up at the ends. He’d had them a year.

The third thing was the string of comments on recent posts about bespoke and made-to-order shoes from Gaziano & Girling and Cleverley. I realise that for many men these are not viable options at £1000 to £2000. But I hope they illustrate the beauty of English shoes, and provide inspiration for buying good, ready-to-made models. I will make a conscious effort to reiterate this in future posts.

Crockett & Jones shoes cost £300-and-something. A glued pair from Jones costs around £100. The former will last five years easily, with a resoling or two, while the latter looked terrible after a few months and trash-worthy after a year. Which do you think are better value?

I have my favourite English brands. Edward Green and Alfred Sargent are among them, plus the bespoke makers already mentioned. But as I’ve said before, with English shoemakers you generally get what you pay for (I can’t speak for those whose prices are decided by an Italian fashion label).

It has been suggested that I don’t like Barker (standard range) shoes. This is not true. They make great shoes. I would always prefer someone buy Barker than an imported, glued pair, and they will last much better. But more expensive English shoes will be better quality, and if you’re going to spend £1000 on a suit I think you should spend up to half of that on your shoes. The shoes will be more versatile as well.

Buy good shoes, don’t wear them every day, put shoe trees in them and brush them down after use – you will actually save time in less-frequent polishing. As far as retail outlets go, John Rushton just off Oxford Street is always worth a shout.

In Northampton we have the greatest hub of quality shoemaking in the world. It’s time more people took advantage of it.

Images: Edward Green

London screening of O'Mast

2012-01-24T09:00:00.001Z

On February 2 there will be a screening of O'Mast, mentioned here before, a beautiful film about Neapolitan tailoring that has only previously been shown in New York. It is being run by B.B. Esq and will take place at the Rook & Raven gallery, near Tottenham Court Road.

More details on the B.B. Esq site.

Gaziano & Girling: Deco - the shoes

2012-01-23T09:00:00.003Z

It should have been obvious from my piece back in May on Gaziano & Girling's new Deco line that I would be very tempted by them, and this is the result a few months later.

They are gorgeous shoes, whole-cut Oxfords in a luscious black calf. Apart from a light bit of bleaching on the toe, the styling is kept to the last and waist treatment. But what style. A narrow rounded waist spreads flauntingly into a square sole, creating the so-called spade effect. The toe box is long, though the shoe is also deceptively wide across the vamp.

That is probably where I went slightly wrong with the sizing. I was concerned that the last would be too narrow, and so went for a 9 rather than my normal 8 1/2. As a result the shoes are a little too big. You can see that in the wearing (about a dozen wears so far) they are creasing in a few different lines on the vamp. That's always a risk with whole-cuts, of course, but it is exacerbated in this case.

The style itself will not be to everyone's taste. For me, they are a wonderfully sharp alternative to more classic, subtle business shoes like the Cleverleys I wrote about last week. Perhaps with silk laces for black tie, rather than meetings. Then again, even those Cleverleys are sharper than the more square-toed Cleverleys I got in the sale two years ago.

Incidentally, in the picture above you can get a better sense of the 'gap' around the waist that gives shoes such as these such delicacy - as I referred to in that Cleverley piece last week. That's the most exciting aesthetic thing about bespoke shoes, for me.

For more details on Deco, see feature here.

How great things age: Tod's driving shoes

2012-01-20T09:00:00.000Z

For the next in my series on How Great Things Age, here are my beloved gommino driving shoes from Tod's.

I've had them for three years and wear them almost every day. They are my default shoe when I come home from work and usually for any time around the house at the weekend. Given this intensive wear, they have worn very well. No stitches loose, no cracks in the leather and they have become more and more comfortable over time.

Of course I look after them pretty well in other respects. They get a coat of shoe cream every month or two that refreshes the skin and prevents any chance of drying out. The difference is particularly marked on the sole, which can start to crack otherwise. You see them here just before they get another coat of cream.

I do occasionally wear them outside - when popping across the road to get milk for instance (with two kids under four this is a frequent errand) - but try to keep this to a minimum as the detrimental effects on the leather around the heel are obvious.

Tod's driving shoes are handmade in most respects, but then then there isn't much to the construction really. A layer of rubber nubbins (the gommini) is inserted through the leather body of the shoe, an internal rubber layer added on top and then a leather insole. The vamp is sewn by hand around the front; all other sewing around the tongue and collar is by hand-guided machine.

The quality is in the materials and the quality control, as with many luxury products (socks being a recent example cited here on the blog). They are all made in Italy's Cassette d'Ete, the town were Tod's head Diego Della Valle was born and both his grandfather and father worked (the former a cobbler). Tod's talks a lot about the more than 100 steps involved in making a pair; a good portion of this is management and quality control.

Let's close with a rather pertinent quote from Della Valle: "If you examine the iconic products around the world, whether a watch, a pair of sunglasses or a pair of shoes, there is a simple test to their authenticity. Do they become more charming as they get older? I love to see a man wearing a very old Rolex that he got when he was young and made his first money. To see how it has aged with him, how it has shaped his experiences - that is real elegance."

And that is the reason that, so far, I have resisted buying a second pair of Tod's driving shoes.

For more in this series on How Great Things Age see:

Bentley Antiques
Dunhill box
Globe Trotter luggage
Edward Green shoes

Five tips on pocket handkerchiefs

2012-01-19T09:00:00.001Z

I love the fact that more men are wearing pocket handkerchiefs. It’s a great avenue for expression and way to wear colour when so many men dispense with a tie. But it is also dangerous. It is unusual, and therefore stands out. If not done right it can undermine any suggestions of style elsewhere. Hence, five tips on handkerchiefs.

1 Stuff it. Even if you prefer a square top to the handkerchief when it peeps out of your breast pocket, stuff it in. Just fold it into a square and then stuff it in.

Don’t attempt a razor-sharp thin white line – the so-called TV fold. It looks good in Mad Men because everything about them is that sharp and that groomed. Until you have your suits made for you and pressed every morning, and preferably have your own make-up department, stuff your handkerchief. It should look like it’s meant to be used anyway.

2 Assuming you’re not also wearing a tie, think of the colour of your handkerchief in the same way as your tie. The same dark colours and simple patterns worn just as well. It doesn’t have to be bright.

If you are also wearing a tie, the colour of the handkerchief can pick up on a minor colour in the tie, shirt or anything else. Or pick up on nothing, just harmonise with the other colours (in the same way the tie does).

3 The key to stopping the handkerchief falling down inside the pocket is to make sure part of it is touching the bottom of the pocket. Stuff it in until it touches, then pull out what you need. The Lazy Fold is a good way to achieve this.

4 The only real quality consideration in a handkerchief is that the edges should be hand-rolled: turned and secured with broadly spaced stitches. If there is a straight line of thread joining these stitches, that is a machine imitation of a hand roll.

Beyond that, the handkerchief just needs to be big enough. There is little difference in the quality of the silks.

5 Try wool. Or wool/silk mixes. Silk can be too flashy for some, as can white linen. Wool takes the shine off things, like the pattern shown at top (on sale at Drake’s) and can be both more casual and quietly sophisticated. Traditionally goes well with rough country cloths like tweed, but also a nice change of pace with a worsted business suit.

New run of Permanent Style Tweed

2012-01-18T08:40:00.000Z

Thanks to everyone who ordered by January 10 - the response was lovely. Those that ordered by now will receive their cloth next month: it is being woven now.

As promised, there will be a second chance to order, with a deadline of February 24. Same contacts and prices etc apply. And there are still a few swatches if anyone wants one.

Review of Le Snob: Tailoring

2012-01-16T12:00:00.001Z

A nice review by a fellow blogger here: The Modern Gentleman. Sales were great over Christmas. Thank you to all those who supported to book. And Steve has nothing to fear - the next book should be out by the end of the year.

Cleverley imitation brogues - final pair

2012-01-16T09:00:00.002Z

As ever, this was partly my fault, but the Cleverley bespoke imitation brogues arrived a couple of weeks ago after a long wait. They are imitation, of course, because there is no separate section of leather at the toe cap – the wingtip is simply lines of perforation. They are also, to my mind, the perfect compliment to a business wardrobe: shoes that whisper of sophistication and elegance. An interesting contrast to the Decos from Gaziano & Girling, for example.

As mentioned, we didn’t tighten the shoe across the toes on this pair of Cleverleys, and this has led to a great improvement in comfort compared to the first pair. These shoes truly feel like the bespoke experience now: perfectly tight around the ankle and heel, so ruling out any slippage, and just roomy enough around the joint and toes to ensure complete freedom of movement. We also stretched the first pair a tiny bit at the point they were rubbing, but I have yet to test out what difference this has made.

Elsewhere the look of the shoe is everything you would expect: a beautifully chiselled and tightly lasted waist; an elegantly pitched and narrowing heel. Together they produce the impression on the viewer of walking on minimal surface area, making the foot appear a little dainty. It’s a look that will be familiar to anyone that spends time perusing old photos of Cary Grant, Fred Astaire or their ilk. The gap, the exposed light under the bridge of the foot creates a beautifully harmonious line.

A lot of money, but certainly worth it. And as I seem to have acquired shoes far faster over the past few years than suits, it may have to nothing but bespoke – or bespoke-level make – from now on.

Those interested in Cleverley might like to know that the dates for travelling to Asia from next month are:

Tokyo

BEAMS HOUSE (HARAJUKU)
International Gallery
3rd & 4th February

Singapore

FOUR SEASONS HOTEL
1st & 2nd March

Hong Kong

THE LANDMARK MANDARIN ORIENTAL HOTEL
3rd, 4th & 5th March, 2012

Reflections on Pitti Uomo

2012-01-13T11:13:00.000Z

Pitti is a beautifully set-out trade fair full of brands I love, exhibiting on often lovely stands. But it is still a trade fair.

This is a place for sales and negotiation. Friends such as Mats at Trunk Clothiers, Will at A Suitable Wardrobe or Kirby at The Hanger Project are here to discuss stock for the coming season, and perhaps discover something new. This is not a place for journalists. There are more photographers taking ‘street shots’ than there are journalists covering what the brands are promoting for Autumn/Winter.

That is one of the reasons it is not easy to make new discoveries. The first question people ask is ‘how many stores do you have?’; tell them you’re a journalist and there is a frantic search for the PR. Most of the most pleasing aspects of being in Florence therefore were spending time with local producers (Stefano Bemer, Lorenzo Villoresi, Liverano & Liverano) and meeting people at Pitti that I had previously only talked to by phone or e-mail. Examples of these were Irish knitter Inis Meain, Italian knitter Fedeli and Italian trouser maker Rota.

Zanone's knitwear in the Slowear building

Nigel Cabourne's super-soft double-brushed tweed

Kiton continues its retro look, exhibiting only CIPA products

There is broader coverage of these brands and others on The Rake website. As of this month I am taking over editorship of the site, so expect some more regular coverage on bespoke experiences there as well as contributions from other Rake writers. And look out for the launch of the digital version of The Rake, for iPads, iPhones etc.

As for Pitti, my abiding memories will be of litres of free espresso in the press room, men preening themselves in the sun and the very odd experience of being tired and slightly bored surrounded by beautiful luxury menswear. A trade show is a trade show in the end, whether you’re selling cashmere or crankshafts.

Oh, and there was a very large pair of trousers.

Rake pieces here. Photography: Luke Carby.

Graham Browne: Brown cashmere and tan cotton

2012-01-11T09:00:00.001Z

An autumnal outfit this, commissioned a little too late in the summer and then delayed by various factors so that it was ready just before Christmas. Still, on a clear winter’s day with an overcoat it serves very well and it will also do well into the Spring.

The brown cashmere jacket from the Harrison’s Moonbeam bunch is about the only weight of jacket I wear outside of summer cottons and linens, and the odd heavy tweed. For when you work in the same air-conditioned office year round, outside temperature is less of a consideration. Or at least it is if you are determined to wear your jacket at your desk.

The tailor at Graham Browne did a special job with the inside of this jacket, extending the facing around onto the inside of the forepart and leaving the lining to run just around the inbreast pockets and across the back. This design, similar to that on my Rubinacci jacket, was an experiment for a traditionally English tailor but came off rather well. I’ll do more detailed photos of that at a later stage.

The trousers are a cotton gabardine but in retrospect I should have opted for wool gabardine. While cotton is great for a slouchy summer suit (as seen here, also by Graham Browne), in trousers alone its weaknesses in drape and sheen are exposed. This is no one’s fault but my own. It will quickly be corrected, however, with some cream trousers being made for summer.

Grey sweater by Loro Piana, brown lace-ups by Cleverley, navy grenadine tie and wool/silk handkerchief by Drake’s.

The Tailor & Cutter - a square dinner jacket

2012-01-09T09:24:00.000Z

This drawing from The Tailor & Cutter is lovely; but it's not really my style. Not because a white dinner jacket would be too showy unless I were dining in truly balmy weather. But, rather, because everything about it is too square.

The effect begins with the lapels, which are both straight down their length and horizontal in the peak. It continues with the square, presumably heavily padded shoulders. Then the straight breast pocket, floating too far away from its lapel. The two bottom buttons are fastened, giving a sharp but square finish to the jacket's bottom edge. The width of the trousers doesn't help either.

I like jackets with a little shape. Some curve, some flow, some movement. There is certainly an argument that a dinner jacket should be sharper than a regular suit, but this is too much.

EB Meyrowitz: First glasses, and fitting

2012-01-05T09:00:00.000Z

Having been rather taken with both the style and personalised service of EB Meyrowitz (see previous piece here) I decided to have a pair of glasses fitted late last year. The experience speaks of the expertise of Sheel and her sisters, but also of the difficulty in fitting straight-armed models.

The style I opted for is called the Starsky. Not that Hutch’s partner ever wore frames of this design, just that he was the general inspiration. You can see them in the photo above, second from top. They are a pale brown tortoiseshell (pattern) in a rather large scale. That combined with the rather square, thick nature of the frame makes them an imposing design, but they won’t necessarily be worn every day. Perhaps more accent piece than functional accessory.

One design aspect I particularly liked was the straight arms – as opposed to the usual, ‘hockey stick’ arms that curve behind the ears. The only problem with this design is that it is harder to get enough purchase on the head, curving the arms snugly around the skull, without being uncomfortable.

There are a surprisingly large number of variables in the positioning of arms: the angle of the hinge; the angle at which the arm comes out of the hinge (both in-and-out and up-and-down); the curve of the arm at various points along its length (again, curve in/out or curve up/down); the twist of the arm. The first two Sheel had set for me according to her measurements of my face; the latter two we adjusted at least 10 times by heating up the material.

Now any optician should look at arm length etc and fit a pair of glasses on you. They will probably use exactly the same heat system. But I’ve never seen anyone take so much time and care over it – it has parallels with the care that goes into the designs and hand-making of the frames themselves.

The heat adjustments we did in two sessions a week apart. Sheel was anxious for me to come back to check again, and I feel guilty that I haven’t done so since Christmas. Very few people other than craftsmen care more than I do about these things. It’s a pleasure to work with someone that does.

Photography: Andy Barnham

Permanent Style Tweed: Sample

2012-01-03T09:00:00.000Z

We've had so many requests for the Permanent Style Tweed that it has become economic to weave a sample length.

You can see the cloth here - it has turned out as I expected, which is a relief, with variation both in the tone of the grey and created by the bracken woven in. At a distance, it is simply a mid-grey with some nice surface detail. Up close you can see the colours and the broad herringbone pattern is almost indiscernible.

All orders for the tweed must be in by January 10, which is when Breanish's weavers are back at their stations and will begin work on this cloth. If there are enough orders after this date, however, we will look at a second run.

There are swatches of the tweed available now, requested by emailing Iain at info@breanishtweed.co.uk and in the US through Jodek at info@jodekinternational.com. Graham Browne in London also has a couple of swatches, so feel free to pop in there for a look. Obviously time is running short for receiving a swatch and putting in an order by January 10 though.

More information available on the Permanent Style Tweed and Breanish at the links above.

Gieves & Hawkes: The perfect travel blazer 4

2012-01-02T09:00:00.001Z

The Gieves travel blazer is finished and has turned out wonderfully well.

First the fit, for that is the most important thing after all. After three fittings everything on the jacket is perfect, from the shape through the waist, to the sleeve length, to the drape down the back. It’s amazing how many tailors refuse to get the sleeve length right – Kathryn Sargent joins Rubinacci on a very short list.

Kathryn also found just the right compromise on the back, by stretching the cloth slightly over my shoulder blades. We had a little more trouble with the trousers, which took all three fittings to get a nice clean front with no straining below the waistband. Then again, that’s never easy to achieve without pleats.

The style of the jacket overall is a structured one, with decent padding to the shoulder and a strong chest. But neither is as great as the Huntsman tweed jacket, and probably more akin to the double-breasted from Henry Poole. Overall it’s a very nice, English-looking jacket with just enough softness in the hopsack cloth to stop it looking stiff.

The interchangeable buttons on the cuff were achieved in the end with a strip of cloth that attaches to the jacket with poppers. Once secured in this way, the four buttons can be inserted through their respective buttonholes. The buttons on the front of the jacket are secured by metal rings, not unlike key rings, which are then covered by a placket on the inside. These are gold-plated buttons engraved with the crest of my Oxford college, Trinity. The alternative set will be brown horn.

The nice thing about patch, bellows pockets and swelled edges is that the handwork on the inside of the jacket is brought outside, without ostentation. I particularly like how the outbreast pocket looks with handkerchief stuffed in, and the feeling of stuffing the hip pockets – whether with hands or notepad.

Gieves sews a large, branded label into the right side of the chest, above the inbreast pocket, as well as the more discreet label with the customer’s details inside that pocket. I wouldn’t have opted for that had I known, but when this is the only fault you can find with a jacket and trousers, someone has done very well.

For more photos, see Andy Barnham.com. For previous installments in the Gieves series on Permanent Style, please use the search function.

The Tailor & Cutter - politicians

2011-12-30T09:25:00.005Z

Magazine covers have come on quite a way haven't they? Eden isn't looking at the camera and Winston hasn't even got his eyes open.

Still, the clothes certainly deserve comment. Anthony Eden's fastening of both his jacket buttons, for example, and the peak lapels on the single-breasted suit. The former could be a question of cut - jackets were cut for that purpose at one point - but the fit hardly recommends it and I would suggest all modern men stick with the fastening of just one, the waist, button. The peak lapels I find interesting, as mentioned in the previous Tailor & Cutter post, particularly as I'm considering the best cut for a new evening suit, in a navy mohair mix.

All those fond of bow ties should note that Winston Churchill's has exactly the right amount of shirt space in which to play. See how well it is framed. Then again, his three-button jacket is cut so high that the space would not be that much greater if his jacket were done up.

Finally, as a general point from a man that likes his suits to look lived in, I'm pleased to see that both men's clothes are characterfully wrinkled. Nothing worse than a suit that looks new.

O Mast now at Drake's

2011-12-28T09:00:00.002Z

I was recently given a copy of the lovely documentary about Neapolitan tailoring, O Mast, an extract from which can be seen above. For the first time it is now available at the Drake’s store on Clifford Street in London, having been previously only available through The Armoury store in Hong Kong, or its website. Those two brands should tell you that good friend Mark Cho is behind the distribution of the documentary, and he tells me they are working on another to be released next year. Good news indeed.

Written, produced and directed by Gianluca Migliarotti, O Mast is a beautiful hour-long wander through the ateliers of Naples, with the best of the breed interviewed on everything from local culture to the relevance of different fittings. If I was a tailor, I would like to be filmed like this.

Sartoria Vergallo, second fitting

2011-12-26T09:00:00.000Z

Some pictures here of the second fitting of a navy suit from Sartoria Vergallo, in a wool/cashmere mix. Feeling much better now – as they say, the first fitting is for the tailor and the second is for you.

I can feel the shape of the jacket, which achieves that wonderful Italian effect of being soft in the structure yet strong in the silhouette. The length has been corrected in both body and sleeve and as ever I love the Italian shape to the breast and patch pockets.

More to see at the final fitting, and better photos hopefully – hotel rooms are not great for this kind of thing.

First post, with more details on Vergallo, here. Vergallo is a regional tailor from Varese, just outside Milan, that began visiting London recently. At £1800, fantastic value for bespoke Italian tailoring.

Bresciani - factory visit

2011-12-23T09:00:00.002Z

Most of the factories I visit present few surprises in the manufacturing process. I’ve seen a lot of looms, from Hattersleys made in 1910 to the latest air-pressure machines that make up most of the production at Loro Piana, Zegna and others. But I’d never seen how socks are made until I visited Bresciani a few weeks ago, in Spirano.

Socks are made upwards. This is slightly surprising at first, rather like seeing how bananas grow (also upwards). Two serrated discs, slightly larger than the circumference of a sock, knit the yarn fed in from cones above them. The whole machine is circular, and no more than three feet wide.

The sock gradually grows into a plastic tube at the top, before shooting up – when it has reached the desired length – around a corner and down into a little basket. There are four different types of machine at Bresciani – for plain socks, micropatterns, woven patterns, Argyles and delicate materials like silk and cashmere. The Argyle model is by far the most complicated, with around a dozen different cones sitting around it in a multi-coloured halo.

The socks that come out are open at both ends. The only other production step is to sew up the toe. Now, for a long time quality socks have proudly described themselves as ‘hand linked’. This is not hand sewing. It means that the two sides of the toe have to be fed onto a serrated wheel by hand, one tooth per strand. Four people at Bresciani do this work – a large portion of a workforce of only 30.

But around 10 years ago a machine was finally produced that can do the same work. Bresciani has three of them at the moment and is buying a new one each time one of these workers retires. According to the lovely Massimiliano Bresciani, who showed us round, there is no difference in quality. You can see the process very clearly on the machine in fact – it has to be done quite slowly, so you can watch each thread being linked on.

Quality in socks comes from these processes, the materials used and – perhaps most important of all – the quality checks. More people do this at Bresciani than any other job. Their wastage is high, and I love the fact that there is a room where batches of socks are tested on both a ‘typical’ house hold washing machine and an industrial-sized dry cleaner.

There aren’t many sock producers of this type in western Europe any more – depending on your definition, one or two in the UK and three or four in Italy. French and Spanish producers have been bought or closed down. So it’s not hard to try all of them, and in my experience Bresciani makes the best. What I can’t tell you is what leads to that quality. It is in all likelihood a combination of all the things mentioned here, plus functional design and research.

On a personal level, I love the fact that a big chunk of the Bresciani workforce is immediate family. Massimiliano’s father (the founder), wife, brother, son, sister-in-law and sister-in-law (by blood and marriage) all work there. Of the two sisters-in-law, one attaches the cardboard labels and the other hand makes all the sample books. It is, if you will forgive me, a close knit group.

Photos: Andy Barnham

The Tailor & Cutter - overcoats

2011-12-21T09:23:00.001Z

This extract from The Tailor & Cutter from 1935 should give some ample inspiration to those considering which of the winter coats to snap up in the sales after Christmas.

An interesting point to note in the styling is the prevalence of peaked lapels even on single-breasted models – which was more common in the period, even on suits, than most of those fond of timeless rules would like to admit. Note also that all the outbreast pockets are decorated with a pocket handkerchief, on those coats that have them.

The style in the bottom right is an interesting one, not often seen in fashion plates of the period. This is likely due to its relative informality, with both the double-breasted style and wide belt. Indeed, there is a progression of formality in the extract as a whole, beginning with this coat and passing to the SB opposite with its patch pockets, swelled seams and split sleeves. We then go to the SB in the top left, before finishing with the DBs in the centre and top right, which differ only in their button configuration.

Those last two coats are also far more tailored than those around them – see how the line narrows below the waist. This is one of the pleasures of having a bespoke coat made. Ready-to-wear coats today usually lack shape because the manufacturer wants them to appeal to as broad an audience as possible.

But a coat doesn’t have to be bespoke to flatter in this way – have that coat you buy in the January sales altered and the effect won’t be too dissimilar.

Zimmerli: The Underwear Project

2011-12-19T09:00:00.001Z

Of all the factories I have visited for the current book, the contrast between product and production was greatest at Zimmerli.

The production facility is a small, two-storey building in Coldrerio, a Swiss town just across the border from Como. Walking through the front door, the first thing you see is a dog-eared poster of David Beckham, wearing a Zimmerli vest. Next to it is a large photo of the Zimmerli team, taken a few years ago in front of the hills across the road. There are no more than 50 people, with the handful that have left highlighted by the snapshots of their replacements that have been glued over the top.

Upstairs are 30 women, mostly middle-aged, working at flat-bed sewing machines. Other male wearers of Zimmerli underwear, including another Beckham, and a huge Vanity Fair cover decorate the walls. The place is clean and pleasant, but distinctly lacking the glamour around the Zimmerli stock in Harrod’s and elsewhere. These are £50 pants, in some cases.

This is not the Zimmerli headquarters, which lie further north in Aarborg. That was where Pauline Zimmerli Bäurlin first started making socks for her children back in the middle of the nineteenth century. But the other local facility, the cutting room down in Mendrisio, is if anything even less glamorous. On the first floor of a warehouse in an industrial zone, the four staff slice up 20-foot lengths of cotton on an old machine that used to cut denim. The view is of a parking lot and railway lines.

None of this really matters, of course. I always say I love factories because you escape the marketing and bullsh*t of brands, their stores and their PR agencies. You can’t put a spin on a factory – this is simply how the product is made.

Zimmerli’s quality is down to the incredibly fine materials it uses, from Sea Island Cotton to incredibly lightweight Egyptian cottons. Turning from the factory visit, therefore, to my Underwear Project, of all the brands I tried Zimmerli is really the only one where the quality of the material is consistently noticeable.

That goes for some aspects of the construction as well, such as the fine single-needle seams and flat seams around parts of the underwear. The sewing machines that do that work aren’t particularly special – it’s just a question of giving more women more time to do the work.

In that way, and perhaps unsurprisingly given the cost, Zimmerli is unquestionably the best underwear I tried as part of the project. My only word of warning would be the styles, some of which can be a little old-fashioned. The Boxer-Short (252-842 in Royal Classic), for example, although it looks like a standard short, is very long in the leg and plain in design. In a thin, almost translucent cotton, that can be a little disconcerting. The shorter boxer, called a Pant (252-8851), is a good fit but surprisingly tight around the back of the leg.

There is a huge amount of variety at Zimmerli (Royal Classic alone has 12 shapes of underwear) so it shouldn’t be difficult to find a style that you like. But I recommend spending the time to do so.

Photos: Andy Barnham

Graham Browne Christmas offer

2011-12-16T10:27:00.000Z

For all those around between Christmas and New Year, Graham Browne are once again doing a special offer for anything ordered during those three days - December 28 to 30.

A two-piece suit using stock cloth - the bolts on the wall plus a few that are coming in specially - will be £725. Normal price is £890 and up.

Also, any suit using cloth from the bunches (and therefore priced normally) will come with a spare pair of trousers for free. If you wear a suit most days, an extra pair of trousers is well worth it.

Russell and Dan will be around on those three days between 10 and 3.

Cifonelli Japanese jacket

2011-12-16T09:00:00.003Z

I love Lorenzo Cifonelli's constant innovation in his menswear designs. Some I like more than others, but I love the embroidery of the Japanese symbol for love on the lapel of this grey jacket. I'd go for a bit of subtle embroidery on a sports jacket. Lorenzo, though, says this piece is intended to be a sharp, sexy piece for the evening. The slim peaked lapels and one button certainly lean that way.

Loro Piana: Quarona factory visit

2011-12-14T09:00:00.002Z

My favourite room at the Loro Piana facilities was the first one they took us too: a vast warehouse, 50 metres or so high and stretching perhaps a hundred off into the distance. We stood on a metal viewing gallery about halfway up, watching a mechanised robot scoot along and up to coordinates that had been punched in by a researcher outside. He came back with a small plastic crate full of cones of cashmere yarn. The warehouse contains over 250,000 kilos of the stuff.

We saw three different arms of the Loro Piana operations in and around Quarona, northern Italy. In Quarona is the corporate headquarters, including archive books of bunches going back to pre-World War One, and all the finishing and quality control for woollen and worsted cloths. In Roccapietra the woollen yarn spinning is done, and you see the big bags of fluffy cashmere that come in, the 40-metre-long machine that combs it into yarn and the state-of-the-art laboratory that scrutinises its purity. Finally, in Sillavengo, a wholly-owned subsidiary does all the knitwear production (that’s them with the tube lights, doing a bit of quality control).

It was great learning how knitwear is made – and therefore why it is so hard to alter. It was great seeing how rough cashmere or even vicuna is until it is brushed – often still with dried thistles, incongruously. And it was interesting to learn how fly-away wool is spun into something that doesn’t just pull apart like candy floss.

But in the end looms are looms. Most of this is not that different from any other high-end weaver, mill or knitwear producer. What makes Loro Piana so fascinating to visit is the scale and the innovation. You have to experiment with an awful lot of cashmere combinations before the cheapest storage option is a futuristic warehouse ruled by a cone-sorting robot. Quality has to be a really important selling point before you fund a laboratory with six people pulling, twisting and magnifying cashmere hairs to make sure the suppliers are giving you the very best.

At the other end of the scale, innovation in new materials often requires a lot of time and money for very little output, at least initially. This thread starts with Tasmanian wool in the 1970s (effectively the first branded cloth), through vicuna (LP was granted 10-year exclusivity to effectively save the camelid from extinction), baby cashmere (one hyrcus goat produces just 30g of the stuff in the first year of its life) to, most recently, lotus flower cloth. At the moment LP is producing 50 metres of it a month. It is using that to make 10 made-to-measure jackets around the world.

Visiting Loro Piana, you get the sense at every stage that this is the forefront of technology in wool and woollens. It’s an invigorating experience. (The beautiful valley and surrounding Alps don’t hurt either.)

Photos: Andy Barnham

Sartoria Vergallo: A visit to Varese

2011-12-12T09:00:00.006Z

There are a few provincial bespoke tailors in the UK, but not many. Italy has more, though again far fewer than there used to be. The advantage of a provincial tailor is normally a quiet preservation of tradition; and price.

While in Italy a couple of weeks ago I was pleased to meet Gianni Cleopazzo, who runs the third-generation tailoring house Sartoria Vergallo in Varese, about 45 minutes outside Milan.

Gianni is the sole cutter in the lovely white townhouse in Varese’s centre that houses the firm. While it has always been small, Vergallo has expanded in recent years to seven tailors making under Gianni, with three hired in the past 18 months.

That demand is down to three things, that you can put in your desired order: Gianni’s soft but formal north-Italian tailoring; the fact that he visits London every month; and the fact that he only charges €1800. When the big Milanese names are charging closer to €4000 for the same level of workmanship, you can see why Gianni might be popular.

It goes without saying that everything is made by hand – this is bespoke. In fact, like many Italian tailors, Gianni goes a little bit further than the English in a few ways. One noticeable one is that the darts in the forepart of the jacket end at the hip pocket. Below the pocket it is one piece from front edge to side seam.

There is no real advantage to making the forepart this way; it is just harder. Extending the dart below the pocket makes it easier for the cutter to shape the bottom of the forepart and stop it swinging forward. It is a shortcut, if a fairly unimportant one. Of the Italian tailors I know, certainly Liverano and Caraceni in Milan make that way.

The style of Gianni’s suits has a lot in common with those in Milan: it is noticeably softer in the chest and shoulder than anything English, with beautifully curved breast and hip pockets, but is not as soft as Neapolitan tailoring. There is even a hint of roping to the shoulder. The armhole and gorge are high, with a close waist and narrow, cuffed trousers.

The Vergallo tailoring name goes back three generations to 1943, but Gianni learnt nothing from them. It was founded by Carmelo Vergallo in San Cesario di Lecce, a village of tailors in Salentino, south Italy. He handed on to his son-in-law Francesco Cleopazzo in the 1970s, who moved the business to the booming town of Varese in the north.

Francesco, Gianni’s father, was very successful but fell ill before he could hand down any expertise. Gianni, initially, didn’t want to go into tailoring and started working in retail instead. After a year he realised that was a bad idea and went to train with another Varese tailor, before studying at the Ligas school in Turin – a technical school for the menswear industry. He then reopened his father’s business, and made it far more international than it had been previously. Gianni has since been recognised by the Italian National Academy of Tailors, which includes the Roman Caracenis, Solito and Puppato among its members.

I’m having a navy two-piece made with Gianni, in a cashmere-mix cloth from Cacciopoli. (A Neapolitan brand with great jacketings – cashmere/wool in winter and linen/silk/wool in summer. Their worsteds are licensed to others but look at the jacketings bunch when you can).

This is the first fitting, which was good apart from both the arms and the body being almost an inch too long. Having seen examples of Gianni’s work at every stage, however, and fitted on both himself and his friends, I’m not worried.

Gianni is back in London on Wednesday, when I will have my second fitting. For updates on his itinerary, check out the contacts page of the website or email Luca, who organises the London visits and translates for Gianni - luca@sartoriavergallo.it. He can also add you to the mailing list.

Expect one or two more posts before this project is done.

Photos: Andy Barnham

Fox Flannel: Factory visit

2011-12-08T11:00:00.004Z

When you approach the town of Wellington over a rolling Somerset hill, you are greeted by a row of chimneys silhouetted against the horizon. This is the outline of the old Fox Brothers facilities, which at its peak employed over 5000 people and pretty much was Wellington. Today most of the buildings lie empty or have been knocked down for modern flats. And Fox employs 24 people.

There is good news though. Last week the planning application went in for Fox to move its weaving operations, office and administration to the old, long weaving shed on the opposite side of the road. That’s gone unused for a while, but was only recently released by a developer who had wanted to build a series of bungalows. He didn’t realise he would have to divert a river to do so – the very river Fox used to dump indigo and all sorts of other horrible things into.

The weaving will now be next door to the old Counting House, which currently houses the Fox archive and The Merchant Fox operations. The latter was launched recently to promote other local crafts such as tanning and basket weaving – see post.

Most old manufacturers have a small, well-preserved archive that is primarily for visitors. Fox has more wool samples than it knows what to do with. When Douglas Cordeaux and Deborah Meaden took over Fox a couple of years ago, they found archive books and boards being stored in a skip. It is now slightly better off, piled in the attic above the Counting House. There are thousands of seasonal cloth collections here, some of them in paper packaging unopened for 100 years.

It is the oldest and most comprehensive cloth archive in the country. Brown gun-club checks with a bright green overcheck; olive and purple combinations that look as fresh as if they were woven yesterday.

In the archive room itself are customer ledgers for every period of the 20th Century, showing how tastes changed each decade and how little the weights did between seasons. Fox wove the first khaki cloth; it had the largest army contract of any textile manufacturer during WWI; it has been supplying Gieves & Hawkes, or Hawkes, constantly for over 100 years.

I’m sure I’ll write more about the actual weaving and finishing of Fox Flannel some other time. It’s an interesting story of trying to get the best out of both very old and very new machinery. In the meantime, I keep thinking what a field day menswear designers would have with the incredible range of cloth and pattern here. They’d have to work in the attic though.

Christmas suggestions

2011-12-07T09:00:00.001Z

If you’re anything like me, Christmas shopping begins in earnest this week. Just long enough ahead to get everything done, but little enough time to inject a little panic into the process.

Here are a few suggestions from a few of my favourites.

I recently bought a couple of the cable knit sweaters from Will at A Suitable Wardrobe, and highly recommend the single ply knit in particular. Be aware of the sizing though – the single ply comes up quite a lot snugger than the double ply.

My favourite Drake’s item, on the other hand, is the untipped and hand-rolled grenadines they do – unfortunately only in an 8cm size, but I’m pushing for 9cm.

On the subject of ties, Turnbull & Asser has recently introduced a lovely cashmere range, all made at their factory that has recently moved to new premises. I particularly like the tipping in T&A paisley, which will eventually feature on all ties.

Hangers make great Christmas gifts, but from Kirby’s selection I would recommend his Santa Maria Novella shave sets (above). It’s great stuff.

People probably aren’t that familiar with English retailer Lissom & Muster, but they have a really nice eye for accessories as well as nice staples for riding and outdoor activities. I recommend the Cherchbi bags or sage green silk handkerchief.

If you have a chance to pop into Trunk Clothiers, my favourite emporium in London, watch out for Mats’s personally commissioned knitwear and scarves under the Trunk label. Grey, navy and natural, beautiful slim cuts and oversizes.

For retail by post, no one beats the packaging of Mes Chaussettes Rouge. Lovely gift boxes and handwritten cards. I suggest a few pairs for father.

For small leather goods, Ettinger’s range is unbeatable and that mustard yellow lining has always appealed.

But again, if you're in London and want something really unique, Tim's antiques at Bentley's in Gieves is worth a visit. See his gifts page here (Hermes cigar case above).

If you’re heading off anywhere hot over the winter, I hate you. Only joking. Make sure to get some Orlebar Browns or, if your taste is more to the decorative, some Chuc’s bathers. And Mr Porter has the best selection online of classic sunglasses (Persol pair, bottom).

It’s actually cold enough to have to wear gloves now, so buy a Peccary pair at Dent’s, or socks to warm the other extremities, at Corgi.

Liverano and Nackymade at The Armoury in London

2011-12-05T09:00:00.001Z

In my previous job I used to travel to Hong Kong twice a year. Great place to go out, but not great shopping: all overpriced luxury brands or, at the other end of the spectrum, hard-sell tailors that would offer a ‘bespoke’ suit in 24 hours. So it was just my luck that the year I stopped visiting, Mark Cho set up The Armoury, a great menswear emporium just across the road from the office, in the Pedder Building.

Like any good emporium, it is a focused selection by a man with uncompromising views. It also stocks some familiar names with some less familiar ones. So alongside Drake’s, John Smedley and Gazinao & Girling, we have Florentine tailor Liverano & Liverano, Spanish shoemaker Carmina and glasses maker Nackymade.

I know Carmina fairly well, but not Liverano or Nackymade, so it’s fortunate that both will be in London at the end of this week as part of an Armoury pop-up shop. Antonio Liverano (top), founder and head cutter at the bespoke tailor will be there to show off his work and take any orders that men are inspired to make. And Naoki Nakagawa, the craftsman behind Nackymade glasses, will be equally receptive.

Liverano’s tailoring style is described as closer to the Milanese style than Neapolitan, being clean and sharp in construction, but with a certain unique eye for texture and colour – classic without being dowdy is the phrase used. Nakagawa, on the other hand, is a one-man operation from Kobe who specialises in bespoke designs and sizes – if you have trouble finding glasses that fit, he may be worth a visit.

The shop will be at the Rook & Raven Gallery, 7/8 Rathbone Place, just north of Tottenham Court Road tube, from this Friday to Sunday. The plan is that all Armoury artisans will visit over the next few months, and obviously the tailors will be back for fittings.

Do pop along.

Postcard from Spirano

2011-12-02T09:00:00.003Z

At Bresciani today, in Spirano just outside Bergamo. Lovely socks, and some nice sheep too.

They'll be the socks chapter of my upcoming book.

More photos on www.andybarnham.com

Postcard from Switzerland

2011-12-01T09:00:00.005Z

In Coldrerio and Mendrisio, Switzerland, today to visit Zimmerli underwear. That's the cloth being cut in Mendrisio.

Zimmerli will be included in The Finest Menswear in the World as the producer of the best underwear.

More photos on www.andybarnham.com

Postcard from Quarona

2011-11-30T09:00:00.004Z

Quality control that resembles an odd art installation at Loro Piana's knitwear facility in Sillavengo, down the road from the Quarona headquarters.

In the area this week for three chapters in my next book: The Finest Menswear in the World. More tomorrow.

More photos on www.andybarnham.com

A Borsalino from Lock & Co - my second hat

2011-11-29T09:00:00.000Z

I’ve had my first proper hat – the brown Voyager from Lock & Co written about here – for over a two years now and it’s been worn pretty intensively. Indeed, it could probably do with a re-blocking at some point. That will be a separate post in the future.

For the moment, I’m focused on what to do to expand the hat collection and so take some weight off the Voyager. It was bought deliberately because its soft construction and dark brown colour made it very versatile – good with both suits (if worn with brown shoes) and more casual clothes. Now it’s time to find two more hats, one more casual and one more formal.

Here I’m going to concentrate on the latter. Several things make a hat more formal. It tends to be made with a thicker felt, and therefore be harder. It tends to be lined, giving it structure internally. It tends to have a thicker ribbon. And it will tend to a broader brim.

Linings are pretty impractical as they are the first thing to wear through, but they certainly make for a smarter hat. A broader brim isn’t necessarily more formal but there is an association there – the original English trilby was the racing felt, and in these circumstances a horserace is not a formal event.

The Voyager is a thin, unlined felt with a thin ribbon and a relatively narrow brim. All these things make it easy to roll and travel with, as well as being more casual. I’m talking here only about trilbys and fedoras by the way – what most men would think of as a proper hat – and nothing more extravagant like a Homburg or a bowler.

With these things in mind, I went down to Lock & Co last week to browse through the options. The Chelsea is a lovely shape with quite a narrow brim (probably the closest thing here to an original racing felt) but quite square in the crown. The Madison is slightly broader in the brim but had too high a crown for me.

(You can tell how arbitrary the trilby/fedora distinction is by the fact that Lock classifies the Madison as a trilby and the Chelsea as a fedora, despite the latter’s brim being narrower.)

In the end, I chose the Borsalino. It has a noticeably broader brim than the Voyager and so is a departure for me, but I loved the shape elsewhere and the softness of the felt. Borsalino says it makes all its felt with wild rabbits rather than farmed ones.

I also considered a grey Voyager because I love the style so much, but with the addition of a broader ribbon – something Lock’s does cheaply and quickly.

A dark grey or black should be the default formal choice, rather than navy. Hats are more like shoes than suits in that way.

Permanent Style tweed

2011-11-25T09:00:00.002Z

While up on the isle of Lewis two weeks ago, I designed a herringbone tweed with Iain McLeod at Breanish Tweed. This will be available to all readers from now until the end of the year. In January the orders will be collected together and Iain will weave the desired length of tweed. It will then be sent out to readers in February.

We deliberately went for something quite conservative. In part this was so that it would have a wide appeal, but it was also driven by the two friends that had agreed to join with me to place the minimum order: we needed to find something we all loved and would be worn often.

The dominant colour will be a mid-grey - very versatile, very wearable, at home with jeans as much as gabardine. The yarn is called 'silver', but as you can see it is a touch darker than that name implies and has some significant variation in the tones. The other yarn is called 'bracken'. Although mostly tan, this has far more colour in the yarn, with greens and other browns in there.

While the weft of the cloth will be entirely silver, the warp will be silver and bracken combined. Overall, therefore, there will be three times as much silver as bracken, so the grey colour will dominate. The herringbone will be 8x8 - meaning each of the diagonals in the pattern is made up of eight threads. This is the larger of the two standard herringbone patterns, the other being 4x4.

The herringbone pictured below is also an 8x8, so you get an idea of the size, but it has all green going one way, all brown the other. The Permanent Style herringbone, with grey also in the weft, will be both subtler in pattern and dominated by the grey.

We decided not to make up a sample of the tweed as it would have added significantly to the cost, and I wanted this to be as affordable as possible. Hopefully the example pattern and the yarns give a good enough impression.

It will be made in a lightweight Shetland wool. At 10 ounces, it is pretty much the lightest tweed you can get from woollens, and is proportionately soft as well. As mentioned in my first post on Breanish, the weaving is done on a 90-year-old Hattersley loom, in exactly the same way tweed on Harris and Lewis has been woven for centuries. It is also warped entirely by hand, something only Breanish still does on the island, giving it that one extra level of hand work.

The Permanent Style tweed will cost £70 a metre. But before you get too excited, this is a single-width loom, so you need twice as much as for a normal jacket, coat or suit. The amount of cloth varies significantly by customer and I therefore recommend you get advice from your tailor on the precise length required. For me, 5 metres is sufficient for a jacket and 7.5 for a suit. So I'd be looking at £350 for a jacket's cloth.

This is a discount on Breanish's normal rates, especially for Permanent Style readers, and it includes VAT - so readers outside the EU save 20%, making it £58 a metre. All non-US orders should be made through Breanish and payment will be through them as well. Price does not include postage or taxes. You will have two options on postage, Airsure (cheaper) or FedEx. Contact Iain Mcleod at info@breanishtweed.co.uk.

All US orders need to be made through Jodek International, Breanish's agent - David Douek at info@jodekinternational.com.

Thanks everyone. I hope you like it.

Cleverley bespoke luggage introduced

2011-11-24T11:14:00.000Z

While on the subject of bespoke luggage, Cleverley recently started doing its own pieces with two old guys situated down in its Cornwall workshop. Leather bags were previously made by the Robert Simpson factory that also makes for Tanner Krolle and others, and I visited here. Smaller and non-bespoke pieces will continue to be made there.

This piece is particularly lovely - an alligator briefcase made of one piece across the back, without a seam. It is hard to find top-grade alligator skins that are big enough to make single pieces like this. It's in midnight blue with violet suede lining and was commissioned by a client in Beverly Hills. Nice.

Bespoke leather at Dunhill

2011-11-23T09:27:00.000Z

Just over a year ago, Dunhill began offering bespoke leather services at Bourdon House in London. Tomasz Nosarzewski, whom readers might remember from my visit to the Walthamstow Dunhill factory last year, began spending every Thursday at Bourdon House in order to take bespoke orders – as well as perform services like repairs and embossing for customers.

I’m a big fan of these onsite services, as hopefully my series with Claire from Hermès demonstrated, and I find it no surprise that the spur for the new Dunhill service was Tomasz’s tour round Asia. He talks about how exacting Asian customers of Dunhill were and Claire spoke similarly about those that visit her on Bond Street.

To clarify, not all of Dunhill’s leather products are handmade at the Walthamstow factory (hand stitching, inking, cutting etc). It’s a small operation and only produces a few lines at a time, the current models including a briefcase and structured weekend bag. These pieces are labelled Alfred Dunhill rather than plain Dunhill.

It was always possible to have items custom made in Walthamstow. A customer anywhere in the world could select a model and a leather and the order would be emailed over. Bespoke is different. It means starting from scratch, with specific needs, paper sketches and trial models. A famous perfumer, for example, recently had a leather cube made that folded out to display the scores of test tube samples he carried with him.

“This is the height of what we do, both technically and creatively,” says Tomasz.

Following a discussion with the client, Tomasz creates a mock-up for the customer made from ‘salpa’ (Italian). You can write on it, you can cut it, you can rip it apart and propose a new shape. The material is very cheap but behaves enough like leather. In the example below, it was decided to turn the handle around 90 degrees so that the seam would be on the side, to make it easier to carry. It also looks more masculine that way round.

Tomasz aims to make just one sample per customer, but some make several changes and one even insisted on seeing the piece complete with its lining. Other examples of recent pieces include a camera bag and a car key fob complete with the embossed logo of the auto manufacturer.

Do customers usually have specific ideas about what they want? “It depends. Most customers have a decent idea, but they want to be guided. They want advice about how things should be arranged, about the leather and so on,” says Tomasz.

It’s hard to give an idea of price, but as a basic guide a simple document case in plain calf leather will start at around £1500. Given that Asian customers are ordering sports bags in green, matte, crocodile leather, price can’t be much of an issue for most of Tomasz’s clients.

Dunhill also has a nice video of a document case being done in Walthamstow:

Hawick, Vanners and Robert Noble - Duchamp factories

2011-11-21T17:08:00.002Z

Good friend Eric Musgrave - author of Sharp Suits among other things - has got a great job, going around the country making films of all the factories where Duchamp has its products made. It's almost as good as my excuse of writing a book about them. I'm not sure I could present to camera quite as effectively as Eric though; I prefer staying the other side of it.

Here we have Hawick cashmere, Robert Noble and Vanners ties. You can find more from Eric at the Duchamp TV site. Enjoy.

Review: Edward Green Top Drawer boots

2011-11-18T09:00:00.001Z

I ordered my first pair of Top Drawer boots from Edward Green back in January and they arrived in May, which is a little better than average for made-to-order shoes from the Northampton makers in my experience. I ordered Compton boots in a new brown colour, described as bronze, which is as dark as you’d probably like to get without switching to black (or indeed the new slate).

I was interested in Top Drawer because bespoke often seems a little too pricey for my budget, and as I’ve written before, I find the most pleasing aspect of bespoke to be the aesthetics rather than the fit. I have slightly awkward feet (big size difference, low arches, verging on hammer toes) but obviously not awkward enough for the fit of bespoke to be a big advantage.

The heel and waisting on the Top Drawer do not disappoint. Although the heel is perhaps not pitched at the back as much as some bespoke shoes, it curves in very nicely to the waist, which is beautifully rounded and trimmed close to the upper.

Edward Green calls it a London waist, which involves a fiddle – a strip of leather, above – being used in the waist in addition to the wooden shank. The welt is trimmed close (below) and then the waist drawn in and beveled, which is where most of the extra work and therefore price comes in. The waists are also tightly tied with fabric as they move around the workshop to ensure they retain their shape – a little like a corset. The shoes are then dried very slowly, often with damp cloths put on them to slow the drying.

The waist is not styled in a point, as with Gaziano & Girling or Alfred Sargent Handgrade, but rather a nicely rounded finish that is suitable for having initials nailed into. That nailing is done very neatly and with a certain flourish – better than I have seen other makers do.

Interestingly, the thing I noticed most about Top Drawer was the quality of the leather. Edward Green says there is nothing particularly different about it; the TD department just gets first dibs on what comes in from the tannery. But I feel it is noticeably more luscious and pliable, and certainly polishes up very well.

The only negative for me would be that the lovely black staining on the sole of the boot seemed to crack finely all over, as soon as they were worn (see second image at top). The finish may just have been too fine to deal with that use.

Of course, I should really be writing this review in five years’ time, because you would hope the individual attention received by Top Drawer will lead to greater quality in the make. Stephen Barnes, one of Edward Green’s most experienced staff (above), makes most of the Top Drawer.

Says Stephen: “I'll work on just four top drawer shoes a week and will do nearly everything on the shoe. I'll pick the components, ensuring we use the very best and the most suitable: a more malleable sole which can withstand the fiddling, a stiffer insole.

"It's very rewarding because each pair I'm working on from start to finish. It’s not about being a small part in a big machine – each pair's my own project. It's just about making the best pair of shoes possible."

Maybe I’ll just wait two years. See you then.

(Above, Kibworth Top Drawer)

Breanish Tweed: Unique luxury

2011-11-16T12:00:00.003Z

Breanish Tweed has all the hallmarks of a Harris tweed weaver: old single-width looms stored in draughty sheds; decades of experience in hand weaving; a stunning but hostile location that constantly reminds one of tweed’s insulating properties. But Breanish is deliberately not Harris Tweed.

Breanish falls down in several key respects. Its wool does not exclusively come from the Blackface and Cheviot sheep on the island. That wool is not woven by one of the islands’ three mills. And most of its tweed is too lightweight. Legally, therefore, it fails.

But in terms of craftsmanship, it is as good if not better than the other tweed weavers on Harris and Lewis (the two halves of what is essentially one island). There are over 100 tweed weavers on the island, mostly one-man and one-shed operatons. Yet Breanish is one of only about a dozen left that use the old single-width looms. It has two of the old Hattersleys, one 40 years old and one over 90 (shown top). Most weavers don’t want to use these cumbersome, iron machines – the younger one, Bertha, was bought by Breanish for a bottle of whisky. Several more are stored in a separate shed, to supply spare parts.

Breanish is also the only weaver on the whole island to still do its own warping. This involves stripping off the yarn from the cones supplied by the mills and lacing them by hand around a wooden frame about three metres wide (above). The resulting length is pulled off in plaits, before being ‘beamed’. That requires the wool to be run across two beams in the roof of the shed, with one man holding it down to retain tension, and then wound onto a big metal drum (below).

Beaming adds about two hours to the total of two days that it takes to weave 40-60 metres of tweed. But it enables Breanish to do much smaller runs because it doesn’t have to reply on the warp supplied by a mill. This is one of the reasons why Breanish started weaving more unusual cloths, such as cashmere, lambswool and vicuña: it was only economical in these smaller runs. As a result, Breanish has now become unique in the world of luxury, handwoven wool. It supplies everyone from Norton & Sons to United Arrows.

Breanish's weaving style of 2x1or 2x2 depending on the pattern (that metric refers to the number warp threads to weft threads) is also exactly the same as Harris Tweed. It is possible to weave one by one (a traditional plain weave) but that requires a restructuring of the loom to shift to from four boards to two. And it makes no difference to softness or longevity – that’s down to the wool used.

Breanish’s small runs also mean it can do bespoke orders for those that take the time to visit, and a post next week will give the details on a Permanent Style tweed that I designed while up on the tip of nowhere. It’s a nice subtle herringbone with heather woven in, using the Shetland wool that is slightly softer than the more traditional Harris Cheviot. It will be available to order throughout December, at a special discount for Permanent Style readers on the normal bespoke price. The tweed will then be woven in January and delivered in February.

This trip was part of the research for an upcoming book, The Finest Menswear in the World, based on visits to factories and ateliers around the globe. More details here next year.

Photography: Andy Barnham

Local stockists of Le Snob: Tailoring

2011-11-15T19:24:00.000Z

Two lovely but accidental run-ins with my book, Le Snob: Tailoring, this week. First I stumbled across it in my local bookshop in Peckham Rye, Review, though strangely in amongst the craft books and sewing guides. And then I found it is being stocked by the Waterstone's around the corner from work, which is nice because I know the new owners make management select these things personally now. Apparently the manager liked the Moleskin-like format. Initially I could only see the whisky and champagne volumes in the Snob series, but it turned out Tailoring had been bumped up to the Christmas table. A nice gift it is too.

So if anyone wants a signed copy, the Ludgate Circus branch of Waterstone's now has several. Don't all rush at once.

Gary Cooper: Enduring Style

2011-11-14T09:00:00.001Z

This is the second book of photographs I have had to review in recent weeks, the first being Anderson & Sheppard: A Style is Born. Even the packaging is the same, with both coming in the same brown canvas slip case. But the important similarity is the emphasis on photography.

Of the 190 or so pages in Gary Cooper: Enduring Style, Bruce Boyer’s essay on Cooper takes up 12 pages. Ralph Lauren contributes a two-page introduction and Maria Cooper Janis gives us one page at the end. They are all well written, with Boyer’s history in particular (and unsurprisingly) both eloquent and erudite. He breaks down Cooper’s love of bright colours and patterns, as well as giving us passages like: “Real style is never right or wrong. It’s a matter of being yourself – on purpose.”

But this is primarily a book of photography, as is the Anderson & Sheppard tome. Their primary use is therefore inspiration. They will remain on our coffee tables if a casual flick through consistently reveals styles that we wish to emulate. Enduring Style has one prime advantage here: all the photographs are new, being released for the first time by Cooper’s daughter Maria for the book. It is fresh information on what Cooper wore from day to day. And as the pictures are largely taken by his wife, Veronica (Rocky) Balfe, they show us a casual, unguarded Cooper at rest or play.

Cooper liked Anderson & Sheppard, among others, and much of the tailoring is soft. Jackets are unbuttoned, pockets often patched, and his ties seem so lightweight as being incapable of remaining vertical. Casual shirt collars and unstructured and flop where they will.

Interestingly, despite Boyer’s descriptions of paisley sports shirts and Mexican guayaberas, pattern is largely confined to a strongly checked tie. The shots are of course in black and white, and we are therefore denied the cherry red or Kelly green of the sports jackets Boyer describes. But the overall effect is one of subtle tones and soft textures, whether accurate or not.

That extends into casual wear too. For sports or fishing Cooper is dressed in whites, the shirts thin and tight, showing off his slight frame. The trousers are fuller and long, giving full depth to pockets and a resulting air of easy nonchalance. Hunting or safari jackets always retain a handkerchief in the breast pocket.

When he was young Cooper favoured tighter jackets, sometimes double-breasted. But he is at his most stylish in later years, when the shirt collar is occasionally left outside the jacket, or a neckerchief is tied around the neck. One of my favourite photos is from 1956 and features Pablo Picasso. In it Cooper is wearing his white shirt unbuttoned but knotted at the waist, as some women do in summer. It could easily look affected, but with him it seems like the most natural thing in the world.

Thank you Bruce and Maria for putting together such a lovely book. And I’m sorry I won’t be there this week for its launch.

A postcard from Harris

2011-11-11T21:09:00.000Z

Up in Harris, or rather Lewis, this week at Breanish Tweed. More next week.

Photo: Andy Barnham

The Merchant Fox

2011-11-10T09:00:00.002Z

Douglas Cordeaux took over the running of weavers Fox Brothers in 2009, along with his friend and Dragon’s Den resident Deborah Meaden. When he moved down to Somerset, despite high expectations, he was blown away by the manufacturing handwork and global distribution of Fox. Being an inquisitive man, he asked about other such craft the region, and discovered leather tanning in Colyton, willow weaving in Somerset, belt making in Dorset and many others.

Which brings us round to the point of this post. That collection of craftsmen was brought under the umbrella of The Merchant Fox, an online retail venture launched by Fox Brothers last month. It has sofas, bags, ties and baskets, dressing gowns, cushions and cufflinks. And today a raft of new items was added, including caps, hats and jewellery.

Not all of the makers are from the south west. There is a collaboration with Globe-Trotter, for example, to make a suitcase lined with Fox flannel and featuring leather corners made at Bakers of Colyton. Dressing gowns are made at Budd, in Fox flannel (above). And bags are made by Chapmans in Cumbria, with that Bakers leather.

Long term, though, the aim is to support local craft. Additions to the group will be more on the scale of the willow weaver. “We’d like to create a kind of local guild, with meetings at the Fox mill,” explains Douglas. “We can offer support, advice, and perhaps most importantly access to our distribution network. People in Japan, for example, that are Fox customers would love this level of craft. We can put them together.”

An overarching theme is getting each craftsman to produce what they love the best, rather than what is most commercial. So the leather used in the bags is a directional grain, which is more expensive to work with as panels can only be cut one way, leading to greater wastage.

This leads to an idiosyncratic but very personal collection of items. I never knew I would find baskets and sofas so interesting – but I suppose it was just a question of something pushing the right craft and provenance buttons.

“That realisation is a wonderful thing to achieve,” says Douglas. “There are so many great things here that I discovered and want to try and communicate to people. To shout about them, when previously many of them were barely whispered about.”

Fans of traditional English craft should cheer very loudly indeed.

Anderson & Sheppard, haberdashers

2011-11-08T15:38:00.000Z

Anderson & Sheppard is opening up new premises on Clifford Street. And my, hasn’t there been a fuss. Those that have fussed the most might have done well to remember that A&S used to do ladies’ wear and ready to wear. (Which is why you occasionally find old A&S jackets that aren’t quite up to bespoke standards).

Not that the new shop will include either. No, it is to be a haberdashers. Always was. It’s a natural step, given that the Old Burlington Street shop is less than half the size of 30 Savile Row (where A&S used to be, and Boateng is now). More space is needed, and there are beautiful rugs, sweaters, umbrellas and hats (have you seen the hats? Racoon and rabbit!) in the new shop that need a good home. Bear in mind, too, that A&S used to sell sheepskin slippers from No 30; a haberdashers is not much of a departure.

Not that the new place will be based on the old A&S, either. Rather, its inspiration is the old Dougie Hayward store, when the great man was alive. For the driving force behind the shop is Audie Charles, Hayward’s assistant for 30 years and a woman who has dressed all the greats that that role implies. Audie talks with great fondness of the men who sought out the store’s accessories and knitwear, dressing gown and casual clothes. The key was the editing and the fit, with everything being made for the store.

Most of the A&S stock will also be made just for Clifford Street. We had a long discussion about the right waist size, armhole and depth of ‘V’ on a sweater. There will be casual trousers, casual shoes, holiday wear and lots of colour. The makers will be British and European, with some classic Italian summer pieces that you rarely see in London.

It will be what the A&S customer wants for the weekend or for travelling. The difference to Drake’s, just across the road, will be that the goods will be less classic, more unusual. The word ‘eccentric’ was used.

Much like Old Burlington Street, the desired atmosphere will be clubby, with comfortable furnishings and big fitting rooms. Much of the boxed-in feel of the back of the shop will be stripped out, to create a long vista. There will be curiosities, but not the wholesale offering of furniture or furnishings.

It will open next year; hopefully near the beginning. But then they haven’t even knocked the walls back yet.

Photo - Andy Barnham

Reader question: Building a wardrobe

2011-11-07T12:45:00.002Z

Dear Simon,

First I would like to thank you for introducing me to a whole new world of fashion. At 36, I found myself feeling lost in time and unsure how to dress. I will confess I have never been the most fashionable or dapper person, but I always wanted to be presentable. I found myself still clinging to the fashion of my 20's, which was mainly trainers, jeans, some shoes, some funky T-shirts and all that. I realised that the people on the tube that I would look to for inspiration were getting younger and younger as I myself got older.

Then I watched American Gigolo and it hit me. This is what a man my age is meant to dress like. I started researching and was delighted when I came across your blog. I have started to build out my wardrobe slowly. But now to my question. I am not a wealthy man. I work in finance and do well enough for myself, but I can't regularly spend a month's rent on a suit. Are there any tricks of the trade, ways in which I can build out my wardrobe with as much quality as possible while still having enough left over to go out in the evenings?

I see your blog as an inspiration, but almost everything in it is out of my reach.

Sincerely,

Youssef

-

Dear Youssef,

I think this is probably an experience shared by many readers, which is why I am writing a fuller post as a response. I’m pleased that the blog still serves as inspiration, by the way, as my search for the best in different aspects of menswear takes things out of some readers’ reach.

The short answer is there are no tricks. Building a wardrobe costs both money and patience. Sales shopping, for example, saves money but is very unpredictable and therefore unlikely to be an effective way of acquiring the classics.

But there are a few definite ways that you can go about this more effectively.

First, work out what your priorities are. For every few hundred pounds you save up, there will be a near infinite range of quality you could invest in. The higher the quality, the fewer the items, and so the longer the wardrobe will take to build. If you are starting a job or building a formal wardrobe from scratch, you will have to accept that quality and fit will have to be sacrificed in order to build a professional set of clothes for the working week.

If you are in need of nothing, however, as you seem to be, and this is more of a personal quest, then more can be spent. You just need patience. Get a great navy suit with the basics – floating canvas, good cloth, classic styling – and have it altered everywhere it needs to be. Then a decent pair of benchmade shoes that cost at least a third of that price. Start with black and dark brown lace-ups. Move on to a cashmere sports jacket, etc. Invest in shoes, jackets and ties. Shirts, trousers and socks can be more basic.

The key with this wardrobe building is to begin with very classic items that will be versatile enough to work in many different settings. That will make it easier to be patient. The rewards in a few years’ time will be worth the wait.

Of course, there is still a range of choices and priorities here. You may have to weigh up different suits that all cost the same but have different levels of style, quality and fit. A heavy cloth may last longer but not be, to you, as stylish. Some RTW suits are actually made better than the basic MTM or bespoke, which prioritise fit.

For me, fit is always the most important. It is one of the reasons I have always championed City tailors like Graham Browne, who cut by hand but don’t have the same level of make as Savile Row. This is how most men used to dress, in the days of the combination tailors like Burton’s. And they were a lot better for it.

I hope this is helpful, Youssef. The hardest thing for men to understand today is the patience required to build a good wardrobe. You may only buy one or two suits a year to begin with. They may not last long because they are worn intensively. But they will last long enough to overlap, allowing you to spend more or buy more next time and increasing that overlap.

Depending on your means, it will take three to five years to feel good about what hangs in your wardrobe. But you could have thrown away 20 T-shirts in that time.

Have fun

Simon

[Picture: Andy Barnham]

The slip stitch: The secret of a good tie

2011-11-04T10:33:00.000Z

A recent piece in City AM by Permanent Style sung the praises of the slip stitch, and gave some advice on maintennace: article here.

Ignatious Joseph customer service

2011-11-03T09:00:00.001Z

Ignatious Joseph of Düsseldorf makes very nice shirts. He gave me a couple a few years ago and their quality has told in that time. Good single-needle stitching; soft, floating construction collars; domed mother-of-pearl buttons sewn on by hand in the ‘chicken foot’ style; perhaps most noticeably, very soft and lightweight cottons; and all, as I said, lasting well.

But I write here about his customer service. Technical aspects of a shirt are all very well, but they are really just suggestions of how well a shirt will wear and live over time. In his Style and the Man Alan Flusser lists the aspects that he thinks make a good shirt, including some of those above. The list is significant in that almost none of the points are functional; they are rather decorative: indications, at best, of the care that has gone into making a shirt.

Customer service is reassuring because you know the company will be with you in the long term. Even if quality slackens on rare occasions, the customer service will rectify it.

Not that there were any faults with my Ign. Joseph shirts. But having initially requested a couple of gingham-check shirts with double cuffs, I quickly realised this was foolhardy: most of time I would wear a check like that casually rather than formally, so a single cuff would be more practical. Easier under knitwear.

I asked Ignatius whether this could be changed, and it was. By the factory in Italy, at remarkable low cost, in a few weeks.

Customer service is particularly important to brands like this one that do not have their own retail presence. Ignatious Joseph is sold through separate retailers, including H Herzfeld in New York and Vincci in London. Without that personal connection to the customer, service and philosophy become more important. I’m glad to say Ignatious is on the right track.

Cloth offer at J&J Minnis

2011-11-02T10:40:00.001Z

Those that order their cloth themselves might be interested to know that J&J Minnis has a special offer on its website for the Crown Classic bunch, as it is being phased out. This is a lovely selection, weighing 320-350 grammes in a Super 100s wool with a touch of cashmere, that I have had made into suiting before. It has a nice handle yet wears well.

It is being sold at £20 a metre plus VAT and postage, until stock runs out in the various designs on offer. I highly recommend it.

The atelier atmosphere of Timothy Everest

2011-11-01T09:00:00.004Z

I had a fitting last week on a jacket at Timothy Everest. A summer jacket, in entirely the wrong season, but I get these timings so wrong that I’ve ceased worrying about it. I didn’t have enough lightweight jackets this past summer, so I ordered one for next. If I left it until Spring I’d only forget.

Afterwards I wandered around the various floors of Tim’s Spitalfields atelier, and it occurred to me that I’ve spoken most in the past about the design aesthetic that makes Tim unique. But lots of people design; they are called designers. The important thing to remember about Tim is that he is a tailor that approaches design, rather than the other way around. It makes a fundamental difference to the quality of the output and the types of designs.

This is best reflected in the various people busying themselves around the place. Pictured, upstairs, is Cassie, who has just finished her apprenticeship as a coatmaker. She’s been at Timothy Everest for about a year, having previously started her apprenticeship at a Savile Row house. One of the reasons she loves working here, she says, is the atmosphere. And you can see why, as casual chatter floats in from next door and you glance out of the window at the sunny garden below. Here Cassie is stitching on and then pressing the collar of a jacket, trying to get the tension right.

That chatter is coming from Lloyd, head cutter (above), who is working on a series of pinstripe suits for a movie star (who will remain nameless). Undercutter Rhiannon is on the board opposite (and pictured top), marking out a similarly striped suit for the same character. And then behind them we have Laura (pictured below), who is affixing some rather affecting braiding to a black trouser. Apparently the Mayfair branch has some rather extrovert clients.

Missing from the picture montage is Annika, the senior coatmaker, who generally does the complicated work on things like Tim’s travel blazers. They require saddle stitching in two rows round all the edges, which takes time. About three days to make the whole jacket, in fact. Then there are two trouser makers in the basement and one more coatmaker across the road.

It’s a lovely little clubhouse, and I do wish every tailor on Savile Row had this kind of space to create their own, unique atmosphere.

Carreducker at Gieves on St Crispin's Day

2011-10-31T09:00:00.002Z

As requested, some shots of Deborah Carre making shoes in the window of Gieves & Hawkes last week, to celebrate St Crispin's Day. Brave gal, putting herself on display like that!

Orlebar Brown swimming shorts

2011-10-28T11:23:00.000+01:00

I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that with casual items like T-shirts, polo shirts and shorts I like simple designs, clean lines and plain colours. I first became interested in Orlebar Brown because I wanted swimming shorts that met all of those criteria. I remained interested because of the technical and craft aspects of their shorts.

Most swimming shorts are made out of two identical panels of material, stitched together, with a one-piece waistband running around the top. You make them fit with a drawstring.

Orlebar Brown swim shorts have a four-piece waistband. This allows the pieces to be curved, ending up higher at the back and lower at the front. The main body of the short is also cut in two pieces at front and back (again allowing the shape to be different) and the back pieces are darted above the pocket, to help that fit above the rear.

This isn’t rocket science – it’s how any half-decent pair of trousers is made, bespoke or not. But few companies bother to do it with swimming shorts. The shape you can achieve with these panels also means the line of the leg can be better controlled.

“I’m over 40 now and rather more hesitant about taking my clothes off in public,” admits founder Adam Brown. “When I do, a short that fits like this through the back and rear, down into a clean leg line, is great because it’s more flattering. That applies to anyone, fat or thin, whatever age.”

You can see his point. The draw-string model, which tends to be rather shapeless and bunch all the cloth together around the waist, is hardly becoming.

Other nice aspects: the fly is constructed in the same multi-panel way, producing a short that you can wear to a café or restaurant without the risk of popping out; the side pockets are angled forward and contain good, deep bags; and there is a strap-and-buckle on each side to get the fit just right.

Having tried other products in the range, I can also attest to the T-shirts and the long-sleeved polo shirts. Both are cut to curve slightly downwards in the front and back hem, meaning they look good untucked but don’t bunch at the sides. It’s much more practical than the polo model with one long tail at the back and a short one at the front.

My only criticism of the polo shirt at the moment would be that the collar is a little short in the stand, and unstructured. This makes it too floppy to wear with a jacket. Adam tells me the next iteration of the shirt will change this though. Nice to know.

The swimming shorts are all made of a polyamide, like any short, but in an unbrushed version that gives them a nicer, cotton-like handle. They are all made – and the various pieces of cloth and hardware come from – various places around the EU, including France, Italy and Portugal.

To see aspects of the construction, have a look at the ‘Inside OB’ video here.

The satisfaction of darning a sweater

2011-10-26T12:17:00.000+01:00

I was horrified to discover at the weekend that one of my Loro Piana Roadster sweaters had a moth hole in. Two, in fact. Despite the various moth products and regular airing. The experience, however, had an upside.

I believe in buying high-quality products, looking after them well and being rewarded with years of superior comfort and style. Little gives me greater satisfaction, therefore, than extending the life of something through my own efforts. With the Roadster, I managed to achieve a decent darning of both the holes. The surface is not perfect, but the small imperfection almost gives the sweater greater character – like subtle colour variation on shoe leather from years of sweat and rain.

This philosophy has much in common with the so-called English country house look. Usually applied to upholstery and other interior decoration, it revels in the natural ageing, untidiness and natural comfort of well-worn items, including clothes. Prince Charles’s patched Cleverley shoes and box of spare cloth at Anderson & Sheppard come to mind.

It is usually the beauty of leather that gets me: an aged watch strap, a battered but not dried out attaché, the patina of the aforementioned shoe. But wool and indeed some forms of cotton (like canvas) can become more beautiful with age. Cardboard too. For more on this theme, search on the blog for ‘How great things age’.

As to the darning, I will not discuss the technique in detail because it is best explained by video. There is a good one on YouTube here. But I will say that it is best to take your time, not overstitch (it can make the area too stiff) and make sure you keep the spare thread that often comes with good knitwear. The biscuit-coloured cashmere I had kept and used on my Roadster was an absolute pleasure to use, and I don’t think anything else would have had the same effect.

Happy St Crispin's Day

2011-10-25T15:27:00.001+01:00

You knew it was St Crispin's Day right? Patron saint of shoemakers? Well, the English equivalent is St Hugh, but it doesn't have quite the same ring to it.

The day is being celebrated by Carreducker, or more specifically Deborah Carre, making shoes in the Vigo Street window of Gieves & Hawkes. It's a wonderful sight - all those slack-jawed yokels streaming past to Abercrombie (and there's going to be another on the other side of the Row!) gazing in astonishment at this person actually making stuff. Plus Deborah has a top hat on, which helps.

James will be there tomorrow (though without the top hat). Well worth a look and a wave hello.

Gieves & Hawkes: The perfect travel blazer 3

2011-10-24T09:00:00.001+01:00

Last week we had the second fitting on the Gieves & Hawkes travel blazer. Given that I’m a new customer and so we are creating a new pattern, both were basted fittings and the first looked much like this one, just with a poorer fit.

At this stage it’s coming along nicely. I was interested to see that the shoulder padding was not as great as that in my Huntsman jacket, but was still noticeably more than that employed by the likes of John Kent or Henry Poole – and neither of those is exactly known for soft tailoring.

The only points of alteration needed after this second fitting are a little stretching of the cloth across my relatively large shoulder blades, and a picking up of the right side. You can see that that side looks a little less clean than the other, both in the sleeve and forepart. Kathryn suggested narrowing the lapel from 3¼ inches to 3, but I think that would be too contemporary.

There are a number of options for the removable buttons and we still haven’t settled on which will work best. The method often used on white Marcella shirts or waistcoats (where you might want the option of buttons or studs) is to have a hole rather than a slit, poke the metal shank through and secure it with a special pin. The design is much like a hair pin.

The alternative on these shirts or waistcoats is to have all the buttons on a placket, which makes them that much harder to lose. This method will be employed on the cuffs of the Travel Blazer, but we’re not sure yet about the fronts. Whatever the fastening mechanism, they will certainly sit in a placket of their own on the inside of the jacket, to avoid catching on the shirt.

The button options will be brown horn or brass, the latter engraved with the shield of my Oxford college, Trinity. How the horn buttons, which won’t have a natural shank, will fit into the system is another piece in the puzzle.

The fresco trousers felt really lovely. I was surprised they didn’t feel rougher, given how coarse fresco can feel in a bunch, and they are only half lined in the front. We decided the narrow them from 17-inch bottoms, here, to 16s. The fronts will also be picked up slightly to try and give a cleaner finish – though this is always an up-hill struggle without pleats.

The next fitting, in two weeks, will be finished bar the buttonholes.

Previous post on cutting here. And the original project here.

Photography: Andy Barnham

Sunspel: The underwear project

2011-10-21T09:37:00.000+01:00

The second brand to be tested as part of The Underwear Project is very British company Sunspel. (Previous post, on The White Briefs, can be seen here.)

Sunspel is the cheapest of the brands on offer. Their regular briefs are £24. The same model at The White Briefs is £28 and at Zimmerli more like £44. Nicholas Brooke, one of the owners of Sunspel, says much of the reason for this is historic: “Underwear used to just be made in the winter when there was no demand for the T-shirts that made up the majority of the business. It wasn’t intended to make profit, and it didn’t.”

Prices aren’t quite that low any more, but Nick clearly thinks they are very good value. The cotton used is long-staple Egyptian cotton. This is on a par with The White Briefs and the feel is similar. Although Zimmerli will be covered in greater detail in the next in this series, I can say that their cottons are noticeably softer – both the regular Royal Cotton and the Sea Island.

However, you certainly pay more for the Sea Island – the name is trade marked by the West Indian Sea Island Cotton Association (the cotton is no longer grown on the actual sea islands, off Georgia) and that monopoly increases the price. That’s why Turnbull & Asser offers sea island ‘quality’ cotton, for example.

Another difference between Sunspel and the others is that the cotton is two-ply. This makes it a touch thicker, but more durable. I can’t say I was aware of the thickness until Nick pointed it out – so it’s not that noticeable.

Sunspel is also proud of its tradition of innovation. It developed unique cellular cotton (below) on old lace machines in 1958, at the factory in Long Eaton, and this is still a best seller. Its regular cotton is a jersey knit that also makes its construction different to that of other companies. For example, I found the leg openings had greater stretch in them than those from The White Briefs, even though there is no elastane in the binding, unlike those from the Swedish company.

For Nick, material is important but cut is the most important aspect of good underwear: “It may sound silly but underwear is incredibly hard to cut well. The shape is very unforgiving; if any aspect reduces comfort, the customer notices immediately – particularly in a brief. We’ve been refining our cut for over 150 years and I really think that tells in the result.”

I tried both the regular knit cotton and the cellular. Although the latter has more stretch, at least horizontally, I found the former more comfortable. Both did very well on the wear test, being washed and worn five times each.

Interestingly, I asked Nick why no one does underwear in grey, which is probably my favourite colour for it. Apparently grey marl cotton is at least 30% more expensive than white, and almost as big a mark-up on black. Rather than explain this to every customer, most companies that did grey would have to raise the price of all colours by 30%, which is hardly fair.

Most of the underwear is not made at the Sunspel headquarters (top), but in Portugal. The Long Eaton factory is largely reserved for T-shirts and other garments for the upper body, which make up the majority of Sunspel business.

I tried the T-shirts too, by the way, and can highly recommend them – though I have not done a similar comparison to any of the other makers. The texture of the Sunspel cottons, in particular, comes across better on a larger scale, as you might imagine. I sized up on the underwear (medium) and down on the T-shirts (small).

The next piece in this series will be on Zimmerli. At the end of the series I will write a more direct comparison of all manufacturers, including Hanro and Schiesser.

A Style is Born: Anderson & Sheppard

2011-10-20T13:46:00.000+01:00

I was sent a copy of Anderson & Sheppard’s celebratory tome A Style is Born this week. It is a luxurious, boxed and hard-backed volume that has been over a year in the making.

The photography, most archive but current as well, is extensive. There is unlikely ever to be as complete a tribute to the customers that have formed the history of the tailoring house.

This is wonderful to be able to browse through; it feels like a widescreen tour of A&S tradition, such is the scale of reproduction. And the pages of cloth photography – three double spreads between each chapter – are even more generous.

This is primarily a book of illustrations, however. While it does contain a great history of Anderson & Sheppard, with unique historical points and anecdotes, the focus is on the customer portraits and historical shots.

Its own description is accurate in that regard: “an exuberantly overstuffed visual and historical companion to the in-shop bespoke experience”, “a rich, almost tactile immersion”.

As an A&S customer, having the book around and flicking through it makes me feel intensely proud to be part of that history. So in that aim it gloriously succeeds.

A Style is Born runs to almost 300 pages, is curated by Vanity Fair editors Graydon Carter and Cullen Murphy, and features photography by Jonathan Becker and Christopher Simon Sykes, as well as eight original watercolor paintings by illustrator Paul Cox. It is released on October 27 and will cost £50.

Wearing brown accessories, at Cesare Attolini

2011-10-19T09:00:00.001+01:00

Once you become a devotee of the Italian formal tradition, and begin to wear a lot more browns in your outfit, it’s easy to go overboard. If shoes are usually brown and leather accessories always a shade of brown, a brown tie, jacket or trouser can become a dirge.

This is of course more of an issue with sports jackets than suits: with a nice grey pick-and-pick suit, the browns and tans all work well as accents. It is the brown windowpane-check jacket that is dangerous, or the tan linen.

I will write separately about the alternative colours for ties and handkerchiefs that work well with brown (think forest green and wine red). But I thought these pictures, taken at Cesare Attolini in Naples earlier in the year, show some interesting ways to wear shades of brown in accessories.

The combination at top highlights how cream works as an alternative to brown. It is soft enough to do little but establish background to the tie and any other brown accessories. Even in both the jacket and raincoat, you can imagine this working with dark brown lace-ups and a tan briefcase. The contrast created by the pop of the white handkerchief helps, of course.

The second combination, above, shows how effective a burn orange can be – it doesn’t feel out of place with brown, despite being so close in tone. Although the blue cotton suit is easy to work with, the same brown accessories mentioned earlier would harmonise with the tie rather than echo it.

I was very impressed with the quality of workmanship on the Attolini jackets, which have beautiful buttonholes and a hand-padded chest canvas. You can see the hand padding on the lapels below, betrayed by the prick stitches coming through.

Apologies for the quality of the pictures - they were taken through a window with an iPhone.

How to buy quality shoes

2011-10-18T15:46:00.000+01:00

I contributed a fairly practical piece on buying good shoes to newspaper City AM a few weeks ago. Interested readers can find it here.

Bespoke shirts at Turnbull & Asser, City branch

2011-10-17T09:00:00.001+01:00

I’ve always felt myself very fortunate to have my tailor within walking distance. Few men today, particularly in the US, have that privilege. But my shirtmaker was always a tube ride away; until now.

A few weeks ago Turnbull & Asser began offering bespoke from its City branch, on Old Broad Street. Andrew Courtney has moved from the bespoke premises on Bury Street to manage the store and launch bespoke there. As well as shirts it will soon do bespoke ties and other goods offered in the West End. The same range of cloths will be available in both branches and you can order in one branch and collect in another.

Andrew will handle all the measuring. He has been at T&A for 15 years and certainly has the experience. In fact, he is also a master butcher and a tie cutter. Having been made redundant from the butchery trade 15 years ago, he plumped for tie cutting as an alternative craft. His father worked in textiles so he had some familiarity with it. From tie cutting he moved to stock management at Bury Street, and has been with T&A bespoke ever since.

The City branch of Turnbull & Asser has been open more than two years now, but its passing trade has suffered from the fact that panes of glass started falling out of the new office block next door. The mountains of scaffolding that were required to make repairs to the offices have rather shrouded T&A – even if the scaffolding panels are attractively painted to look like box hedge.

I do hope having bespoke leads to increased business on Old Broad Street. The branches of TM Lewin, Charles Tyrhitt et al are so ubiquitous in the area that a business man could forgivably confuse Turnbull & Asser with one of them. Which of course it is not; not by a long shot.

The window displays have been changed to include sewing machines and photography of the Gloucester factory, some taken by Andy Barnham during our visit two years ago. And there is to be a bespoke event shortly, where customers will be able to see both shirt and tie making in the store. Let’s hope these all help educate the City masses.

The window dressing of Hackett

2011-10-14T09:00:00.001+01:00

One of the main reasons that I (and I assume most other men) read blogs is to get inspiration for things to wear. Or to buy in order to wear. I know I should write more posts on the former. Ideally, every shop window should provide such inspiration on combinations. But they don’t.

There are notable exceptions, including Ralph Lauren, Boggi and boutiques like Trunk or Drake’s. But in my opinion the most stylish window dressing of any brand in London belongs to Hackett.

Hackett windows rarely shout. Ralph Lauren is more likely to do that, with preppy primary colours and glamorous evening wear; but it also occasionally misses the mark. Hackett provides quiet, consistent inspiration. Men of the City take note.

For this post I have deliberately chosen a very simple display. These outfits, currently gracing the windows of the Jermyn Street branch of Hackett, contain no colour. But by taking this out of the equation, and trying to come up with six tonal combinations that highlight pattern and texture, they succeed all the more powerfully.

Throughout there is sufficient variation in the scale of patterns to avoid clashing. The fact the shirts are white also helps to separate them. Interest is achieved through texture – the ties vary from woven pin-dot silk to satin to cashmere. It’s not complex, but it is simple and elegant. And that’s where all men should start.

Even Hackett doesn’t get it right every time, and I have deliberately left out one combination that I felt didn’t work. It involved a chalk stripe waistcoat with trousers of the same colour but no pattern. Striped garments as separates are hard to work at the best of times. When the colour or tone of one piece is pretty much identical to that sitting next to it, the effect is of looking like you have worn the wrong trousers.

The others are unqualified successes. I advise any man wandering down Jermyn Street, Sloane Street, Regent Street, Bishopsgate or anywhere else that Hackett has branches to look up and, briefly, take note.

I believe the modern title is visual merchandiser. To whoever holds that title at Hackett, well done.

Photography: Andy Barnham

The philosophy of dress as expression

2011-10-13T09:10:00.000+01:00

My father in law recently reminded me, on reading elements of my book Le Snob: Tailoring, about the philosophy of RG Collingwood and male dress as expression, where clothes are a replacement for the body.

Here's a quotation:

"Dress is a kind of language; but when it is rigidly uniform the only emotions which it can express are emotions common to those who wear it. The habit of wearing it focuses the attention of the wearer on emotions of the kind, and at once generates and expresses a permanent 'set' or habit of consciously feeling in the corresponding way. Rupert Brooke noticed that Americans 'walk better than we; more freely with a taking swing and almost with grace. How much of this is due to living in a democracy, and how much to wearing no braces, it is difficult to determine'.

"Dropping a uniform carries with it a curious breach in the emotional habit. The consciousness of sharing uniform dress with a circle of others is thus a consciousness of emotional solidarity with them; and this, on its negative side, takes a form of emotional hostility towards persons outside the circle. To illustrate this from the history of parties and classes is superfluous."

Silk evening shirts at Emma Willis

2011-10-12T09:00:00.003+01:00

Wing-collar shirts are flimsy things unless made in the detachable, collar-stud traditional manner. When attached to the shirt, the collar is inevitably too low and lacks the stiffness of the starched original. Precious few shirtmakers make a good detachable collar today anyway.

So your options are a plain turndown collar on a shirt with a pleated or piqué cotton front. Some glamour can come from studs, but it is rarely worth investing in these until you’ve got to the age that black tie events rarely lead to you being disreputably drunk in the small hours of the morning. I would make two alternative suggestions: silk and ivory.

This struck me during a conversation with Emma Willis recently. The shirtmaker has come a long way since she set up on Jermyn Street and brought some much-needed feminine glamour to the industry. The shop still has a distinct sensuality, a feeling of being swathed in Sea Island cotton and shod in cashmere stockings. But the company has moved on to establish its own shirtmaking facilities in Gloucester, and Emma tells lovely tales about the seamstresses there.

That conversation came round to black tie and a ivory silk shirt that was hanging prominently in the store. Now, this is not the silk of your 1980s imagination. It is not satin and certainly not sateen. It is sand-washed silk, which has a soft and textured handle. The shirt itself has a flat-turning bib front in silk pique and little mother of pearl buttons on a removable band so the shirt can be worn with studs (if you're old and sober enough).

And its ivory is a distinct off-white. Some traditionally minded men swear by cream or ivory shirts as an alternative to white. So much kinder on the complexion. I’ve never bought that: for me, pure white has the necessary crispness of corporate business, something cream never can.

But with black tie – particularly, perhaps, with my brown and black velvet jacket from Timothy Everest – it has an attractive air of old-world decadence. Its tone stands out immediately from the cheap, flimsy white collars around it. The contrast is not dissimilar to that between black and midnight blue in the tux itself.

One final piece of advice from Emma to conclude: if you’re going to have a pleated front, look for sufficient overlap of the pleats; a cheap, machine-made front will have larger gaps between each one, and quickly make the shirt look cheap. Good ones are sewn on individually by hand.

Welcome Hugo Jacomet, Parisian gentleman

2011-10-11T09:45:00.000+01:00

At last, after many rounds of correspondence by email, Hugo and I had a chance to meet at Anderson & Sheppard last week. Hugo was over in London for a couple of days, touring the Savile Row houses for the purposes of his own excellent blog Parisian Gentleman.

Contrary to appearances, Hugo and I are not preparing to engage in a passionate embrace. We are merely inspecting the make of our two suits - his from Cifonelli and mine Anderson & Sheppard. Indeed, he was wearing Corthay and myself Cleverley shoes: it was full Anglo-French warfare.

Good to see you Hugo, and we look forward to reading about your adventures on the blog.

Photography, the inestimable Andy Barnham

Cycling bags

2011-10-10T13:00:00.000+01:00

A few months ago I was asked by a reader what cycle bag I used. I apologise for not answering sooner. The reason was partly forgetfulness and partly the fact that I knew Rapha was coming out with its full range of bags soon, and I couldn’t write about bike bags more than once.

Now, I use a bridle leather one from Bill Amberg – the Double Truffle. It is a beautiful bag but hopelessly heavy; any longer than my 20-minute commute and it would give me shooting pains. I also saw the Brooks leather bags recently, on visit to their factory up in Smethwick (they aren’t made there of course, though I’m glad to say they are now made in the UK). They are much lighter and more practical.

But by far the most practical bags are those from Rapha, particularly now the range has expanded to include a weekender-sized race bag with slots for road shoes and – at the other end of the serious cycling spectrum – a simple tote for popping into town (above). Other pieces include two sizes of shoulder bag and a really funky little saddle bag that rolls up and fastens with an adapted toe strap in the Rapha signature white leather.

All are made in a black Cordura nylon, which is very hardy while remaining lightweight. The tricky problem Rapha has of making high-viz gear in black is overcome with a series of subtle reflective dots on the side panels. Rather like Guy Hills’ Dashing Tweeds, these really don’t shine until hit by direct light.

Apparently two pieces where weight is less of a concern – the race bag and the wash bag – will at some point come in a lovely thick black leather. Speaking of leather, I had an interesting chat with founder Simon Mottram about new Rapha cycling shoes, which are leather yet very lightweight by virtue of using yak leather. It’s just as thin as kangaroo, says Simon, but harder wearing. I kind of wish they were still made of kangaroo.

I’m pleased to see that the rest of the Rapha Autumn/Winter collection expands the range of merino wool that has been so feted here on Permanent Style, to include more base layers, tops and underwear. Apparently the merino padded boxers were so popular that Rapha decided to make some without the padding – an interesting overlap with The Underwear Project perhaps?

Elsewhere my recommendations for the stylish cyclist about town are the hooded jersey and the beautifully cut long-sleeve polo shirt, which now features cycling-inspired paisley on the collar – a considerable improvement on last season’s pink gingham.

And an interesting technical item is the Polartec Pro Team Jacket in yellow (or Chartreuse). Apparently the duller, non-fluorescent colour is actually picked up by the eye better than fluorescent yellow, and the softshell material is a lot nicer and more malleable than your standard commuting jacket.

Permanent Style on Finnish menswear blog

2011-10-10T08:51:00.000+01:00

Thanks to Ville Raivio for featuring Permanent Style in his Finnish menswear site Keikari over the weekend. That link will take you to the site, but it's all in Finnish so unless you happen to speak the language, the interview will not be readable. I thought I'd reproduce in English, therefore, one question that Ville asked right at the end:

Many of my readers are young or have only recently opted for a more formal style. What tips would you give to someone who has only recently become interested in classic style?

1 Invest in quality. It’s very frustrating when you start but as good things last longer, your wardrobe accelerates as you get older rather than standing still. It’s also satisfying to know you are pushing against the global greed of replacement and waste.

2 Try to have suits, at least jackets, cut for you. Don’t worry too much about the quality of the make, but hand cutting makes the biggest difference. And spend more on shoes.

3 Start by dressing simply. As personal as style might be, every style icon in history has agreed on several things. And one of them is that dressing with well-informed discretion is the base to any personal aesthetic.

4 You have to wear clothes to feel comfortable in them. Hats are a classic example. No one feels comfortable the first time they wear one, because nobody else is doing so. But the third day you wear it, it will feel natural. And practical.

Gieves & Hawkes: The perfect travel blazer 2

2011-10-07T09:00:00.001+01:00

The most interesting aspect of watching the cutting for the Perfect Travel Blazer this week was, oddly, not the blazer but the trousers we are making to go with it. These are in a mid-grey, 9/10 ounce fresco from J&J Minnis.

Fresco is such a great travel cloth, its weave and treatment meaning it creases very little but is suitable for temperatures from temperate to roasting. We decided against it for jacket, because that very sharpness would make the blazer less versatile. But in trousers this is less of an issue. Mid-grey fresco trousers will transfer nicely from formal blazer to casual knitwear.

As to the cutting, Kathryn Sargent (Gieves head cutter) took a small slice out of the pattern around the knee area, to shape better on my apparently slightly bowed legs (top). I haven’t seen this done before, so I’ll be interested in how it turns out. You can tell if you have bowed legs, by the way, by looking in the mirror and putting your feet together – it’s one thing a tailor is looking for when they measure you in this position.

I’ve long learnt that the important thing on trousers for me is getting enough of a scoop into my lower back – it’s what comes of having a relatively large ‘seat’ and a small waist. Toby Luper and Hemingway Tailors in particular seems to have mastered this. Kathryn will increase the back rise slightly: it’s normally 1½ inches; she will raise it to around 2.

One design detail on the trousers is the fob pocket – the small one below the waistband on the front that can be used for change. I usually find this too tight, narrow and deep to be accessed easily. Albam is the one British ready-to-wear brand that seems to get it right. So Kathryn is going to cut it slightly shallower than normal, at 2½ inches deep.

The cloth for the blazer is being cut out here by Richard Lawson, Kathryn’s apprentice. Richard often does the cutting after Kathryn has developed the pattern. He has been working with Kathryn for three years now, and is just starting to develop his own client book. Unusually, he started at Gieves 18 months before that, on the retail side.

Before that Richard had studied to be an engineer, and he thinks there are some similarities between that and tailoring – at least at the level of turning two-dimensional drawings into three-dimensional structures.

First post, on the design of the Perfect Travel Blazer, here.

EB Meyrowitz: Handmade glasses

2011-10-05T08:00:00.003+01:00

EB Meyrowitz always used to sparkle from across the Royal Arcade, as I sat in Cleverley’s chatting to George or Teemu. The serried rows of horn and acetate frames, all in beautiful brown variations, watched by a little jazz band on top of the cupboard.

But I never made the time to go in. That, it is now clear, was an oversight. In the end, the catalyst was not George Glasgow (who I now know is a loyal customer) but John Durnin, now CEO of Gieves & Hawkes and another customer. He introduced Meyrowitz into the new Gieves set up as one of his artisans, alongside Carreducker, Bentleys, Bill Amberg and others.

EB Meyrowitz is run by three lovely sisters. But they don’t want to be the focus of a piece such as this, and too right. The focus should be the glasses. These are all handmade, in a range of workshops from England to Germany, Morocco to India. Made to measure glasses, which make up about 40% of the business, are all made in England.

Meyrowitz designs all the frames itself. The made-to-measure service then involves adapting those designs and frames to a customer, and varying little aspects of the construction or the materials. “I used to do bespoke designs for customers,” says Sheel Davison-Lungley, the manager of the store. “But it was impossible to match the picture that people had of how their face would look. Men are often quite delusional about their faces.”

The ready-to-wear frames are all altered as well, in terms of changing the angle and shape of the arms, often from the hinge. Meyrowitz is meticulous with this, taking a series of measurements to get the balance of the frame correct. Anyone who has experience of tailoring won’t be surprised to hear that men usually have one ear lower than another, and one eye lower. Where the frame is made to sit is a judgment based on making it look natural, and fit to these personal idiosyncrasies.

Interestingly, Sheel says that most ready-to-wear glasses on the high street fall down on basic areas of fit, often having arms that are too short and bridges that are too small. The small bridge will make glasses sit too high on the nose. The short arms, on the other hand, are rather like the too-large suits sold by high-street brands: fewer people notice if a suit is too big than too small, and fewer people notice if the arms on a pair of glasses are too short – they may be less comfortable but they will stay on the nose, unlike with arms that are too long.

Being handmade, as in cut down and finished by hand, should also make them more comfortable. This is most noticeable in the bridge, where the edges are noticeably rounded and smoothed. Machine-made glasses tend to work in single planes, with each perhaps smoothed but no transition from one to another.You can see something of that in the pair above.

It’s been an interesting area to learn about.

Prices start at £450 for acetate, £700 and up for made to measure. Horn is £900 and £1600 respectively.

Photography: Andy Barnham

Fashion shows are vulgar

2011-10-04T20:47:00.001+01:00

As it is the season for fashion shows, I though a little quotation from Hardy Amies might be appropriate:

"Clothes are meant for private living; clothes that produce excitement and applause give the press things to write about but shock the man of taste."

The Englishman's Suit, Hardy Amies, 1994

How to wear a neckerscarf

2011-10-03T09:00:00.002+01:00

As the days begin to grow colder, one of the most tactile pleasures is wearing a neckerchief or neckerscarf.

I’ve never taken to wearing an ascot in an open shirt collar, much as I agree with the rationale of retaining some silk at the neck; perhaps there are just too many negative associations. But I do like wearing a silk or silk mix scarf with a crewneck sweater. This can be any size and shape, as long as it is not too big, but my favourites are 90cm and 70cm squares from the likes of Hermès and Arnys.

Now I’m not going to spend several instructional paragraphs explaining how to knot the scarves. Other sites do that far better with diagrams and even video (and I will link to them where appropriate). What I am going to do is relay my personal experience and advice. The condensed lessons of several years of experimentation should hopefully be of some use.

Three ways of tying the scarf are shown here: the simple tie knot, the square knot and the basic Ascot. With a square piece of cloth, all begin with folding in two opposing corners and then repeating from the same sides, until you have a long strip to work with.

The square knot, shown at top, and just above before tucking it into the sweater, produces a satisfyingly clean finish not dissimilar to the bow tie (as the technique is similar). However, the knot is rather large and – with a scarf this size – can sit a little awkwardly above or below the neckline. The finish is neater with a smaller piece of silk, say a large handkerchief.

Unlike the two other options, the square knot’s loose ends flow sideways and not down. An alternative, therefore, is to secure those two ends behind the neck with a simple knot (or a neck ring) - above. Good for a particularly cold day but perhaps a little bulky.

The second option is the simple tie knot (also known as the oriental knot, or a slip knot). Unlike a four in hand, this involves one less layer of silk by virtue of starting with the underside of the tie uppermost. I wouldn’t recommend it for a normal tie – too little body – but it can be useful for a scarf where reducing the silk in the knot is a priority.

This option produces a triangular knot, which is less bulky that the square knot. Although some may dislike it aesthetically, it is functional and folds easily under the neckline.

It is also secure, which is the major advantage over the next option – the Ascot knot. This is the familiar method for tying any scarf, pulling the end of a straightforward knot up and away from the chin, before spreading it to create a broad front blade.

Because there is no real knot here, more of a fold, the front is soft and folds under easily. However, any vigorous activity can dislodge it (including picking up and putting down my one-year-old, which I do too many times a day to count), which is doubtless why it works best in the open neck of a shirt or with a woollen full scarf. I’d recommend it as dressy option, but you could end up retying it several times during the day.

Go and wear a neckerscarf to keep out the chill.

Gieves & Hawkes: The perfect travel blazer 1

2011-09-30T09:00:00.002+01:00

John Durnin of Gieves & Hawkes does a lot of travelling, as I do myself. It was while discussing recent trips, and standing in the new Gieves Blazer Room, that we conceived the idea of creating the perfect travel blazer.

The plan is this. We will design, make and fit on me a travel blazer that we think ticks all the boxes for the kind of short business trips we end up going on. If we think the design successful, Gieves may end up including it as one of the options in its aforementioned Blazer Room.

The blazer will be two-button and single-breasted. It will be cut, however, to fasten with the lapel buttonhole under the chin. None of these flaps under the collar. Too fiddly and too uncomfortable.

The cloth will be a navy mid-weight hopsack, half lined with part of the lining to the forepart in the same cloth. This is a design aspect that some of the Gieves ready-made blazers have – and I saw on my Rubinacci jacket – and I think work well with casual cloths.

We considered fresco over hopsack. But while the former will keep its shape better when travelling, the key to all aspects of the design is flexibility – and fresco is too sharp in my view to go with jeans or khakis. We will probably make some grey trousers out of fresco instead, to highlight the cloth that way.

The jacket will have three patch pockets, flapped and buttoned so that valuables will not fall out if you put the jacket down (or up, in a plane’s overhead locker). To echo the shape of the flaps, the outbreast pocket will have a welt in the same proportion. The pockets will all have an inverse pleat in them, to enable them to take more stuff. At least one of the internal pockets will be zipped – but have that zip hidden by a flap of cloth.

One internal pocket will also be proportioned to an iPod or similar smartphone. While pockets can be cut too precisely to a wallet or phone, only for that item to change, small adjustments to the width and depth of a pocket can at least ensure the phone does not fall horizontally.

Perhaps most interestingly, the plan is for the blazer to have changeable buttons. I have had this on jackets before, with the buttons either separate and attached by their stalk to a circle of metal behind, that keeps them in place, or on either side of the stalk, so they are just swapped through the hole. The options will probably be brown horn and gold (or something similarly dressy).

Head cutter Kathryn Sargent and apprentice Richard Lawson will be cutting the jacket and trousers. More details on that next week.

Kent Haste & Lachter relocate

2011-09-29T17:20:00.000+01:00

The paint isn't dry and Stephen is apparently fishing for salmon in the basement, but Kent Haste & Lachter have finally moved to their new premises, at 7 Sackville Street.

Next door to Meyer & Mortimer and where Fallan & Harvey used to be, the shop has a lovely long cutting area and some big, airy fitting rooms.

Stephen and Terry will be going to the US in a couple of weeks (Affinia Manhattan Hotel, New York, October 17-21), but John is around so do pop in and say hello.

More details on the much-esteemed trio here.

Cifonelli - Parisian powerhouse

2011-09-28T16:50:00.001+01:00

From the latest issue of The Rake:

Cifonelli

Parisian tailors tend to be located on the first floor of big mansion blocks. Savile Row tailors are more likely to be on the ground floor of a terraced house, with workrooms underneath. Though certainly a generalisation, this is not an empty comparison. It means the French have more space.

Cifonelli, on Rue Marbeuf, has a small ready-to-wear shop on the ground floor. But upstairs is an expansive atrium, three large walls of cloth bolts, fitting cubicles and no fewer than seven different tailoring rooms. It is a maze of intense, bright spaces, filled with tailors – both young and old – surrounded by fittings and paper patterns. The last two are reached via the kitchen. Two tailors and an old cutter have just been taken on and the cutting rooms, across the hall, are being remodelled to fit in an extra board. Accommodating new staff, particularly those that have worked in their own small space for several years, is never easy. But everyone seems to find their place in this dense little warren.

Cifonelli is certainly the biggest of the Parisian tailors, but it is not unusual. Camps de Luca, Smalto and Stark are similarly housed, their names hung proudly right across the outside of their blocks. This space and size can give a tailor greater identity. But there is one more thing about Cifonelli that gives it a unique sense of purpose: all the tailors are employees. Most English tailors, and some French, pay their staff per item. While they have to prioritise their hosts’ work, they are strictly speaking freelance.

Having employees doesn’t make tailors any easier to manage. It just means you have to worry about slacking rather than quality. But for Cifonelli, it seems to have enabled them to innovate while retaining a definite identity.

Cousins Lorenzo and Massimo Cifonelli took over the running of the business from their uncle/father in 1999. Although founded in Rome in 1880, Cifonelli expanded to Paris in 1926 and quickly found a local following. By 1990, there was only one cutter left in Rome who quickly retired, so it was closed down. Paris, however, has expanded rapidly.

Which has been one route to innovation. As tailors and cutters joined the firm, they brought their own ideas of construction, organisation and style. They weren’t allowed to change anything unilaterally, but Lorenzo in particular was – still is – irrepressibly keen to learn and reform. He is a restless creative hub.

One of the early changes was in the way orders are managed. Lorenzo instituted a system whereby every basted suit is double checked before it goes for a fitting. All the parts are measured and then checked against the measurements that were taken when the order was made. Even those measurements themselves are unusual – few tailors measure a customer afresh when he comes in for a new suit.

Lorenzo also makes sure paper patterns are fastidiously altered with each new garment. Many tailors, despite their claims, do not do this. More than one of the great Savile Row names gets my basted fitting wrong in the same way every time. The right sleeve is always that half an inch too long, the shoulders a little too square. It’s a waste of a fitting.

Other innovations vary in size. Some are small: measuring the sleeve length with a pin in the shoulder, which slots onto the hole at the end of the tape measure. Much more accurate. Others are large: tweaking the Cifonelli style as the cousins gradually exert their tastes and personality. The Cifonelli shape was always distinct, with a small chest and lightly padded shoulders, but a large and often roped sleevehead. Lorenzo’s grandfather, who studied in London, called it a blend of the best Italian, French and English techniques. It certainly creates a very flattering, bold silhouette.

But Lorenzo has taken this and sprinted with it. The roping on the shoulder, for instance, varies considerably by cloth and customer. A conservative business suit gains personality with just a touch of wadding at the top of the sleeve. A dandyish overcoat, on the other hand, can have exaggerated shoulders, a tiny waist and a sweeping skirt, creating a garment suited to those that favour dramatic entrances (and stormy exits).

Then there are the little details. In recent years Lorenzo’s experiments seemed to have centred around touches of leather or suede – on the underside of the collar, the interior of flared cuffs, the top of pockets or as a fastening on the breast pocket. But they have also taken in subtler details, like the deliberate overlap of the pleat down the back of a belted Norfolk jacket. Or the diagonal hip pockets finished with beautifully hand-sewn triangles at either end. Frog fastenings, bellows pockets, elbow patches: as the models here illustrate, Lorenzo has unique takes on them all. And that’s without getting to the untreated wool he’s peddling for winter (see cream-coloured jacket opposite).

But none of this is to ignore the skills of pure, plain tailoring. Indeed, a description of my first bespoke order from Cifonelli probably serves to illustrate all of the qualities listed so far.

It was in a green Harris tweed, which Lorenzo was wearing as a suit when I first met him. Not being quite as adventurous, I limited it to a jacket. While some of his designs aren’t to my taste, a survey unearthed at least four things I did like: a five-button front that fastens to the chin, suede undercollar and undercuff, those diagonal pockets, and suede fastening on the outbreast pocket.

Because I was only in Paris for the day, Lorenzo dug up a few lengths of flannel and created a basted fitting within the hour. With just this to go on, he sent me the finished jacket a month later. When we met up for this interview, I brought the jacket along so he could judge the fit: it was perfect. In part due to his rigorous measuring and monitoring, we didn’t have to change a thing.

Last of all, the tailoring. I have yet to meet a tailor who isn’t awed by the attention to detail on this jacket. The buttonholes on the lapel and cuffs are beautifully finished on both sides, as either could be shown outwards – even on the suede cuff, which requires a special, sharpened needle. The hand stitching around the lining is incredibly fine, and is even used to join the panels of the lining. In fact, that join is finished with a signature C for Cifonelli in the small of the back.

Such workmanship, creativity and character inevitably warms the blood. So I hope you will forgive such obviously partial praise. Just take a wander around the first floor of 31 Rue Marbeuf next time you are in Paris – round the seven rooms, past the sink and through the sound of thirty tailors talking – and see it for yourself.

English Cut and Thomas Mahon: made to measure

2011-09-27T09:00:00.001+01:00

During a recent conversation with Thomas Mahon of English Cut, I was interested to hear about the made-to-measure service that he is launching in India. The tailors he has hired and trained are among those that suffered from the tsunami in south Asia. The video shows part of this process.

While this is a nice touch, what is more likely to be a priority for the sartorially inclined is how the suits are made. The answer is, entirely by hand. Everything from the padding of the chest to the insertion of the armholes – much of which you can see in the video.

The cutting, too. Tom, tailor Paul Griffith and India head Mahesh Ranakrishnan have spent a lot of time training the new recruits to cut in an English drape style: small armholes, soft shoulders and plenty of cloth in the chest. Same English cloths too – that’s a W Bill in the video.

The suits start at £1400 for a two-piece and are delivered in five to six weeks. Orders can be made with Tom up at the house in Cumbria or at his new home-away-from-home, 11 George Street (just around the top of Savile Row).

Now in theory there’s no difference between having your tailors based in India or Soho. As long as they’re good and require little management, the presumably less frequent visits are not an issue. Kilgour ran a service with its suits being partially made in China, saving hundreds on the final price. But bespoke customers might be more concerned about having the cutting done remotely. (Kilgour was cut in London.)

This is what makes the English Cut offering more made-to-measure than bespoke. Thomas has worked out a series of standard models and sizes in what he considers his cut, much as anyone does that puts their designs into large-scale manufacture. These 38, 40 and 42-inch patterns are then altered according to the measurements that are sent out from England.

This is the same process all made-to-measure companies use. Except that they then make the suit by machine, while English Cut will make it all by hand. Despite this difference, it’s good to see that Thomas is willing to call it made to measure, where some companies that make far inferior suits use the term bespoke. He is in good company: Ralph Lauren refuses to call his Purple Label made-to-measure service bespoke, despite the high quality and prices of the product. He has too much fondness for Savile Row.

Good luck to English Cut MTM. More details on Tom’s blog here.

Thom Sweeny: settling in nicely

2011-09-26T10:21:00.001+01:00

I first met Thom Whiddett and Luke Sweeney through a very dashing friend of mine, JC. That’s him modelling Thom Sweeney tailoring, above. I can see why JC likes the style; it is very him: sharp, sleek, close and with a readiness for experimentation. Lapels are often high; a signature piece is the U-shaped waistcoat with a deep drop in the front (pictured top). Their look is contemporary and has received a lot of deserved attention.

Having now been a few times to see Thom and Luke, the thing that stays with me is their attractive little shop. First, it’s about 20 yards from Bond Street tube station – if you use the right exit. Which is convenient. Second, it is decorated with great taste and a clear fondness for iconic photography. You can tell it used to be an art gallery. And third, most importantly, I feel it is going through a pleasant process of growing into itself.

On the ground floor are two showrooms, a fitting room and Thom’s board (above). Downstairs is another board and four or five tailors – the usual mix of trendy apprentices and a master tailor of southern European extraction, who has worked for them all. Up a winding staircase are Thom and Luke’s offices, which are in the process of being refurbished to create more space and accommodate another cutting board.

It doesn’t yet have the worn-in elegance of Timothy Everest’s atelier in Shoreditch (where Thom and Luke used to work), or the rock n’ roll edge of Tom Baker’s backroom in Soho. But it has personality and promise – and very few new-build tailor shops achieve that.

PEN magazine: Permanent Style big in Japan

2011-09-22T09:00:00.000+01:00

You could never refer to yourself as a style icon. But if someone else gives you the title, it's alright to pass it on, right?

Seriously, I was highly flattered to be asked to appear in the latest issue of PEN magazine, which I am told by those who travel more than I do is one of the best-respected menswear magazines in the country, particularly concerning craft. The feature was on style icons from London, New York, Paris and Milan, and I'm pleased to say one of the others in the article was the very stylish Nick Wooster, ex-men's fashion director for Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman.

As per usual there are several things I should have pushed the stylist on, like making sure the cardigan wasn't off centre in the top image, not popping the collar in the larger image below and not posing me so awkwardly in the DB suit. But overall I was pleased. I think the Anderson & Sheppard suit in particular demonstrates the advantages of a drape cut - you can see the shape it gives to the chest.

Top image: Suit by Choppin & Lodge, shirt by Kiton, cardigan by Cifonelli, handkerchief by Simonnot Godard and shoes by Berluti.

Bottom, larger image: Jacket by Cifonelli, sweater by Trunk, silk scarf by Hermes, trousers by Incotex and shoes by Edward Green.

Bottom smaller image: Suit by Anderson & Sheppard, shirt by Turnbull & Asser, tie by Isaia, handkerchief by Rubinacci and shoes by Cleverley.

Accessories, from top: Lock & Co fedora, Berluti wallet and vintage crocodile card case, Permanent Style cufflinks, Alfred Dunhill doctor's case.

Going tieless; Hemingway Tailors suit

2011-09-21T09:00:00.001+01:00

Without a tie, men lose the biggest opportunity to express themselves easily in colour and pattern. But I don’t like wearing a tie every day either. The key if you’re not going to wear a tie is to add accents elsewhere, such as in a pocket handkerchief and a sweater. It’s often only with the second addition, such as with that knitwear, coloured socks or an unexpected shoe, that you really compensate for the central absence of the tie.

The suit is from Toby Luper at Hemingway Tailors. It has the strongest shoulders I’ve ever had in a suit, achieved not so much from extra padding as from the cut, chest canvas and strong roping in the shoulder. The roping is about ⅝ of an inch in width.

It’s fair to say this is Toby’s normal style – though he is not a cutter himself, rather a travelling tailor using Cheshire Bespoke to make his suits. I find it interesting how much influence a tailor like Toby has on the style and cut of suits made elsewhere though. His trousers really deserve the attention in this suit; as with previous pairs, they are the best cut of any I own. The sculpted line into the lower back is just perfect.

I may yet have the shoulders altered. But continuing the thoughts of a previous post on sloping shoulders, it’s interesting to see perhaps the most extreme way of dealing with them – cutting a near right angle around the circular shoulder line. I’ll wear it in for a while and see how it feels.

French navy flannel suit, Hemingway Tailors; white polo shirt, Kiton; grey sleeveless sweater, Loro Piana; brown suede shoes, Edward Green; royal blue linen handkerchief, Pochette Square.

US shoemaker tours

2011-09-20T10:00:00.000+01:00

It's time for US tours again. Doesn't time fly?

The full dates for two makers - Cleverley and Alfred Sargent Handgrade - can be seen on their sites at those links. And pictured we have some new styles from Sargents, awaiting nervously to be paraded around the United States. Pendle above and Benson below.

As per usual in New York, Leffot is the centre of the action, and along with these full tours Gaziano & Girling will be at Leffot on October 12 and Edward Green on October 27.

Belgian slippers from A Suitable Wardrobe

2011-09-19T09:00:00.003+01:00

I love my Tod’s driving shoes. For two years now I have worn them every evening when I return from work and they’ve only improved with age. This has been considerably helped by the fact that I don’t wear them outside – like some of the more ignorant financiers of the City – and so the heels have not been destroyed. They’ve also been treated to shoe cream a few times.

So it was going to take a lot for me to take to another house shoe. The Belgian slippers pictured, from A Suitable Wardrobe, look likely to achieve that, going on the two weeks’ wear they’ve had so far. They deserve to be called a house shoe, however, rather than a slipper.

The Belgians have a lot more structure: a leather lining, a thin leather sole and a small heel. This makes them wearable outside for short periods – to get the paper from the corner shop, for example – where I really shouldn’t use the driving shoes. I fancy they may also be useful for travel. Driving shoes cannot be walked around airports for very long, and when they get to the other end they are less useful for popping down to the hotel bar.

That structure makes them a little less comfortable without socks than the Tod’s, and that is one reason why I shall continue to think of the latter as more slippers than house shoes. But I’m glad of both. As I have two small children (almost 1 and almost 4), I spend a lot of time indoors, playing, feeding and tidying up, where fully structured Oxfords are neither comfortable nor practical.

Will, who runs A Suitable Wardrobe, also deserves a word for his client service. Online shopping frequently falls down when it comes to how things fit. Sending things back is a pain, frequently costly and often not included in the price. Apparently one reason Mr Porter shipping costs £10 a time is that women frequently order several sizes and send the ones that don’t fit back (they are collected for free). Personally I’d rather have a cheaper postage charge.

Will will send a second pair of shoes out if the first ones don’t fit, and repeat if necessary, with no charge for either the new pair or the return. I made the mistake of ordering a 42, when I really needed a 43. They were swapped without fuss.

Henry Poole and Aston Martin – innovative pockets

2011-09-16T11:43:00.001+01:00

The inside pockets of a jacket can be fairly dull. I went through a phase of having the inbreast pockets made to perfectly fit my wallet (which is rather long) and my iPhone (which is rather narrow and short). But I never seemed to put the right one in the right pocket. And then I got a new wallet.

Although of relatively narrow application, this was one of the reasons I was interested in a collaboration between Henry Poole and Aston Martin to produce an old-fashioned driving suit. It is to be worn by Aston Martin designer Marek Reichman at the Goodwood Revival this weekend and is based on an old model worn by racing driver Nick Cussons in 1969 (above).

The inside pockets are all cut to fit: a series of spark plugs, separated by leather dividers (apparently it’s always the first thing that goes); a tyre pressure gauge; spanners; and an oily rag. Each is fixed by a leather flap with the Aston Martin logo embossed on it.

Although it may seem impractical to have them in a jacket, rather than just a bag in the next seat, Marek has already driven in the suit and says this way they are much quicker and easier to access. And time is of the essence in a race.

As you might expect, the jacket has an action back to make it more comfortable to drive. The breeches are cut to allow enough room to work the pedals. And the waistcoat is cut off square so nothing sits in the lap when driving. The tweed is a Porter & Harding grey with brown Prince of Wales check.

Quite a nice little get-up, I thought. Below: Marek, Nick and Poole's Simon Cundey.

Photography: Lara Platman

Graham Browne in Sweden!

2011-09-15T09:00:00.001+01:00

Cutter Russell Howarth of Graham Browne will be doing his first trip abroad, to Stockholm of all places, in October.

The explanation is that Russell and Dan have been working with Gaziano & Girling shoemaker Daniel - a big reader of Permanent Style - and Daniel is Swedish. So Russell is going to Stockholm to do a fitting, in the Gaziano & Girling showroom, and is open to anyone else that wants to make an appointment while he is there.

Russell will be available October 8 and 9, Saturday and Sunday. To make an appointment or for more information, email info@grahambrowne.co.uk.

For any info on Graham Browne, just search the blog. You'll find plenty.

Hermès: The bags

2011-09-14T09:00:00.001+01:00

It’s not surprising that, given the focus on Hermès over the past week, I’ve had questions about what man’s bags they have and where they can be obtained.

Hermès bags are often made in small quantities because of the difficulty in sourcing precise leathers. There is, however, a good range out there – and while stock varies from store to store, it is always worth asking staff what else is coming in soon and what other nearby stores have available.

The range varies from canvas tote bags at the cheaper end to the Haut à Courroies saddle bag (top). This latter is a favourite of mine. The first bag Hermès ever made, it was designed to carry a full riding saddle and would usually have been carried open.

It is now a great weekender bag, and has been redesigned slightly to reduce its weight. The leather lining didn’t matter so much when you had a full leather saddle inside, but it is more important for weekend trips. So a thinner and foamed Togo leather is used, a canvas herringbone lining and aluminium hardware. This new version is called the Helium, after the ultralight chemical element (£7440).

The other bag I would point readers towards is the new Sac a Depeches (pictured above, £4400). This is a very simple workbag in calfskin, but with all the Hermès details that lend sophistication – the wonderfully finished edges, as we explored in the first post in this series, and the balance of the whole. In fact, a concertina structure like this is particularly hard to make by hand, because if the balance between the folds is just a little bit off then the bag will not stand up straight. It’s a nice way to test a bag.

Both are deliberately only available in quite masculine colours: the Haut à Courroies in tan and charcoal; the Sac a Depeches in ebony and charcoal. The matte calfskin of the latter has the added advantage that it will scratch and age quickly, giving it a very aged, gentlemanly quality.

Also worth a mention is the Polochon Voyage (£5400, below), an old archive piece from the 1930s that was reissued in 2010. In evergrain calfskin, it is a new addition for Autumn/Winter. If you thought the other models were extravagant, this is essentially a sports bag, but made with the same miniscule attention to detail. It is also made inside out, like some versions of the Kelly handbag, before being reversed. So some of that lovely stitching is on the inside.

Rugby Ralph Lauren and the Tweed Run NYC

2011-09-13T08:39:00.001+01:00

Apparently I'm now a pin-up for Ralph Lauren Rugby, and its sponsorship of the Tweed Run in New York.

Click on the site here and scroll down to the photos from past events at the bottom.

Pochette Square: Good and bad handkerchiefs

2011-09-12T09:57:00.001+01:00

There is an increasing number of websites selling good men’s accessories today. But while they are nearly all better than the bog-standard fare we had to put up with on the high street for years, the quality does vary. A new French site (why are they all French - Dandy Store, Chaussettes Rouges etc?) is a case in point.

Pochette Square, launched just two months ago, offers a good range of handkerchiefs at decent prices (€25-€45). While the ‘trendy’ half of the collection is unlikely to appeal to anyone reading this blog, the ‘chic’ side has a good range of basics in silk and linen mixes with some original patterns thrown in.

Having seen a few of them, I can speak to the quality of the materials. The linen and linen/cotton mix both have a good handle. The silk, though, is perhaps not the best: the printing loses something in the detail.

There is similar variety in the construction. The ‘Thin White Line’ model that I saw had hand-rolled edges – the minimum you would demand in a high-quality handkerchief – while ‘Purple Rain’ did not. It was a good machine imitation of hand rolling, with the same swelled-edge effect, but it was not made entirely by hand. I am told that this is reflected in the price – the former is €45 and the latter €30.

It is also fair to say that the size is not ideal. They measure 13 inches to a side, where the best hanks would be 16 or 17 inches. Helps them stand up in the pocket.

So a welcome and original entrant to the market (did you see the rabbit tail one? Apparently it’s the best seller) but with variable quality.

Hermès: Interiew, Claire Marie

2011-09-09T08:00:00.001+01:00

Claire Marie is the artisan in the Bond Street branch of Hermès. It is her job to make alterations and repairs to client’s belts, bags and other leather accessories. As reported in a previous post in this series, she is also a proficient bag maker herself. Permanent Style quizzes her on the Hermès training and why she enjoys working in the London store after her Paris workshop experience.

How long have you been at Hermès?

Five and a half years. Before that I was studying bookbinding and book restoration in Paris. I designed book covers for limited editions as well, creating mosaics on leather for example.

Do you miss working with books?

I do a little, yes. I’ve thought about suggesting that Hermès starts making leather book bindings. But this is also a reason I like working as an artisan here in London – it means I get to see old Hermès products rather than just make new ones. You see different models, many of which aren’t produced any more, and take them apart slowly, examining the construction. In that way it’s similar to book restoration.

Do any particular bags stick in your mind?

Yes, there was one bag recently brought in that belonged to the Charlie Chaplin family. A small handbag from the 1930s, it needed a few stitches repairing and a general refurb and repolish, but it was in very good condition.

Why did you decide to come and work for Hermès?

While I was studying I met a guy who used to be a saddle maker there. He gave me the idea, and it appealed because Hermès is the best company to work for as a leather worker, as well as a great preserver of arts and crafts.

What did the training involve?

It was 13 months in a school in Paris. The training can be longer, up to 18 months, depending on your experience, but everyone needs to have a qualification in working with leather already. At the time there were around 30 people in the school with me; now they have smaller classes. The teachers are known as ‘godfathers’ and we had around four students to each godfather.

Was it tough?

Absolutely. In the first week you do nothing but learn how to manipulate and look after your tools. Then you work on maintaining a good posture when working, before you begin saddle stitching long lines in leather. They deliberately make you start with the most difficult leather – box calf, which is very hard and scratches easily. But it's the best school to achieve the level of expectation we aim at in this House, no other one gives so much attention to details.

When do you move on to making bags?

When you’re confident working straight lines, you begin trying to make a Kelly handle. Again, it’s deliberately the hardest thing to do, with at least five layers of leather in the middle. You can easily spend two or three months just getting that process right. The next stage is making a full Kelly that is stitched on the outside – some are stitched inside and have to turned inside out once they have been made.

What is most difficult about making these bags?

Part of it is simple organisation. There are so many parts to the bag, that have to be put together in exactly the right way and the right balance for the whole to work perfectly. That first bag can take you 50 or 60 hours to make. Then you move on to different bags and different leathers.

Did you move around in Paris once you had finished training?

Yes. The first year I specialised in men’s bags and travel bags. Then later I moved to a different workshop that did men’s bags and clutches, such as the Constance or Kelly clutch. One particular highlight was being part of the four-person team that made the first Kelly flat. Designed by Jean-Paul Gaultier, it was a version of the Kelly in very smooth leather that flattened out and could be worn as a clutch.

And then you applied to move to London?

Yes, I liked the idea of working with older, vintage models and dealing more directly with customers. There are about 15 people working as expats in this way, outside France and I think it’s a great service. I particularly like stamping initials on iconic bags – it’s a rather emotional experience, producing something that will become part of a family story.

Photography: Andy Barnham (who else?)

Hermès: Trying the saddle stitch

2011-09-07T16:44:00.000+01:00

As mentioned in the first part of this Hermès series, artisan Claire Marie was kind enough to allow me to try stitching part of the clochette that she was making. As with previous attempts at being hands-on, it of course all went wrong.

It’s easy to watch demonstrations of stitching or cutting and think that the act itself is not that difficult. What is hard is maintaining concentration as the act is repeated, and making small adjustments as the surface of the leather, silk or worsted changes.

That is probably true when one is trained and the fundamental processes of your craft have become virtually automatic. But it takes a long time to get there. Under Hermès training in Paris, everyone has a qualification in leather working when they join but still spends a whole month just learning about their tools, and the next few weeks just repeating the kind of saddle stitching I attempted here.

The saddle stitch, as explained in the previous post, requires two needles to pass through the same hole, with an awl first piercing that hole and guiding the first needle through. It is this process of guiding the needle back that proved tricky for me.

The temptation is to bend your head down and look at the underside of the leather, to see where the needle has to go. But if you do this every time it takes too long and is very hard on the back. Pushing the needle and pulling the awl at the same time is not, however, very intuitive.

I think I managed it on the fifth or sixth attempt. By that point I was sweating and my teeth were gritted. It felt like a minor milestone. Claire was kind, saying it was more difficult than it looked and that the pincer that holds the leather was clearly the wrong size for me.

I think I’ll stick to writing, and appreciating leather from afar.

Photography: Andy Barnham

Hermès: how leather goods are made

2011-09-05T19:28:00.001+01:00

This week is Hermès week. There will be a series of pieces, based around the ‘expat artisan’ that sits in the Bond Street store, making repairs, embossing products and generally giving advice. Her name is Claire, and over the years she has done many such services for me, including monogramming my much-loved Ulysses notebook and advising on the altering of belts.

Hermès has long been the only designer brand I have any time for, due to its fanatical craftsmanship and support of artisan production across France. Some other French brands – notably Chanel – perform a similar role, but not in the areas that closest to my heart: leather and silk.

And I think the presence of craftsmen working in the stores – not for show, but performing useful jobs for customers – is one small demonstration of the Hermès attitude.

In this first post Claire (top) will demonstrate the work that goes into Hermès leather goods by making a simple clochette – the bell-shaped leather case that hangs from a bag and protects its keys.

The first stage is to shave down the edges of the hourglass-like piece of leather using a small paring knife. This will create a flat surface for the glue to adhere to and, later, for the stitches.

The edges are then painted with a dye that is specific to the colour of the clochette, both to help preserve the leather and aid the aesthetic finish. Next, a long heated iron with a grooved head is used to score a line around the edge of the leather (below) – after being wiped down on a leather mat to remove any traces of previous dyes. And a second iron, with a flat head and heated to a higher temperature, is pressed along the dyed edges to smooth them and help the dye penetrate. Lastly, the edges are polished with a strip of sandpaper.

The number of layers of dye depends on the thickness and type of leather. This clochette made from a grained calf will require two. Other skins such as goat and crocodile require more, while thick edges like the top edge of some handbags (which can be made of up to eight layers of leather) can require nine or ten layers.

Wax is applied to the edges and melted on with the flat-headed iron, to seal and waterproof them. A rag with wax already on it is also rubbed along the edges, the friction of which melts its wax onto the surface.

The clochette is then glued together. Here a contact glue is used, a stronger version that is usually used in repairs. When such pieces are made in the workshops they use ‘aquagum’ – water-based glue. The edges are then hammered to ensure flat and even contact.

When the glue is dry, stitching can begin. This is a saddle stitch, involving two needles looping around each other – the same technique used on the welts of bespoke shoes and on handmade luggage. It is stronger and yet more flexible than any stitch a machine can work, and cannot be replicated by a machine because its needle cannot change direction.

As readers will know from previous posts on Cleverley shoes and Alfred Dunhill luggage, this stitch uses an awl to pierce the leather and then help draw the opposing needle through the hole. Claire has two awls with her here. Indeed, such is the volume of equipment required for such work that she usually needs about 70 different pieces when she travels to give demonstrations.

Biggest but perhaps most personal among those pieces is the sewing pincer. This long tweezer-shaped piece of wood is held between the legs and grips the leather. It is made specifically for the artisan, as its length is crucial to remaining comfortable while stitching in this position.

Even threading the needle is interesting. It pierces the waxed linen thread a couple of times, wrapping the resultant loops around the needle, before inserting the end through the eye and pulling up those loops up over the top. This creates a very strong knot.

Rather like watching bespoke shoes being made or a jacket being basted, this process leaves you feeling exhausted and admiring of the work that goes into such a small leather product. And of course makes you want to buy one (they are used on men’s bags as well).

Next posts: Hermès training in Paris, the men’s bags, and I fail spectacularly at saddle stitching.

Photography: Andy Barnham

The White Briefs: The underwear project

2011-09-02T10:27:00.001+01:00

A few weeks ago I began a project to search out the best underwear made anywhere in the world. Obviously, given the focus of Permanent Style, the focus would be on both quality, including materials and construction, and style.

The first is fairly objective and can be analysed quite easily – though with this project it will have the added benefit of testing, with several wears and washes used to determine comfort over time. The second is more personal, but I will express my preferences and the advantages of different styles, to help inform personal choices.

The brands so far included in this project are Zimmerli, Sunspel, Schiesser and The White Briefs. This list has been put together based on conversations with stockists in the industry. If anyone has any suggestions to add to it, they are welcome.

In this first post, The White Briefs. Started by husband-and-wife team Peter and Henriette Simonsson in Sweden, the company began two years ago as a project to make the perfect pair of white briefs. The range has since expanded, but the ethos remains.

One advantage of coming to the idea fresh like this is that Peter and Henriette could take time to pick and choose the best cotton from one source (here, Peru), the best knitters to make the cloth (Switzerland) and the best factory to put them together (Estonia). Underwear is normally a vertically integrated process. This is cheaper and quicker, but lacks choice and flexibility.

Indeed, the industry as a whole is – I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear – a high-volume and high-margin business, driven by marketing and brand identification, with little attention to detail as a result. In that way, all these producers I've highlighted stand out from the logo-driven mainstream. The White Briefs is slightly different from the rest of them in its independent starting point.

The important thing about picking the cotton and how it will be woven is balance in weight and feel, says Peter: “Heavier cottons are sometimes more comfortable and always more durable, but of course they are less flexible. So it took a while to get what we thought was the perfect balance there.”

The easiest way to give a cotton durability and ensure it retains its shape is to add Lycra, but Peter dismissed this: “Lycra is plastic. It is wearing plastic against the skin. Objectively it is always going to be less breathable, and personally I think it leads to a feeling of being trapped. Good underwear should make you feel free.”

There is, however, some lycra in the binding (the strips along the edges) as this has to have some stretch and that's impossible without it.

The other aspect of the construction is the waistband, the rib for which Peter spent a long time getting right. “The sizing is important, you don’t want it to be too tight but then it has to stay in place as well – the height of the rise is also crucial, as with a good trouser.” As with the rest of the production, the waistband had to be unbranded, simple and sophisticated in design.

Underwear takes a surprising amount of engineering. T-shirts, which are all about the cotton and the cut, are easier. Peter has found this as he has expanded the collection, into different models of underwear and other white basics.

The first underwear model was the Platan – a basic, simple brief with relatively long sides. The next was my favourite, the Elm (pictured), which Peter describes as a sixties-style trunk – halfway between a boxer and a brief. Although the shape is much like a short trunk, the sides are a little higher up the thigh, which makes them more comfortable as your quadriceps arch higher up on the outside of the leg than on the inside.

The last model was the Willow, which is a trunk longer in the leg, indeed a couple of inches longer than others on the market. “The key there was to get underneath the thigh muscle, so that it keeps the hem in place and they don’t ride up as you wear them.” That rang true for me – it’s one reason I dislike a lot of trunk-style underwear.

So how has the Elm worn? Very well, so far. The difference the quality cotton makes to comfort is surprising – though I confess I never really spent much money on underwear before. After each wash it seems like it could have lost shape, but disproves that as soon as it is worn. If I have any criticism of the Elm, it would be that the inside leg could be a tad shorter. Occasionally the little that is there can ride up.

It is also worth mentioning that all the cotton used is organic. This doesn’t make any difference to the comfort, but green values are important to Peter and Henriette. And the range is expanding soon to include some models in pima cotton, again from Peru (as most of it is).

I did also try The White Briefs' collaboration with Fantastic Man in mesh cotton, which is as wonderfully breathable as it promises to be, but isn't really to my taste.

Look out for the next installments in the series.

Nothing wrong with sloping shoulders

2011-08-31T12:51:00.001+01:00

Giving myself bigger shoulders has never been a priority in the buying of bespoke suits. Perhaps I’m just lucky, being relatively slim and relatively tall, that sloping shoulders have never been much of a concern. Either way, I think focusing too much on the flattering effects of a suit can distract from its style.

Some colleagues and acquaintances have a very different attitude. For them, the greatest achievement of any suit is to maximize their physical attributes, giving them bigger shoulders, a small waist and a plunging neckline to emphasise the chest. They favour shoulder padding, a one or two-button front and a high gorge.

Such a suit may well make them look sexier, and perhaps that is their main aim. They certainly seem to keep count of the number of compliments they receive from women as opposed to men. I have read critiques of the English drape cut, as practised by those trained at Anderson & Sheppard, expressing disappointment that it did not give the author an Atlas silhouette. Readers on this blog have commented similarly that it is a shame some of my suits don’t do more to pad out my shoulders.

To focus on this exclusively is to miss out on many of the glories of tailoring. A softer shoulder and chest creates a different, more casual look. For me it is more suited to the softness of moleskin trousers, old-favourite slip-ons and a dandyish pocket handkerchief.

It is also simply a different style in itself. My Anderson & Sheppard double-breasted suits do far less than other DBs to strengthen the shoulder, but it makes them distinctive and gives a unique look that no ready-made suit could emulate. There is also an argument that it goes better with the rounded lapels and thick collar, which already suggest a roundness to the chest.

I would wear a navy suit in a structured, one-button style for a job interview. Black tie should be cut to flatter, equally. These events are occasions to impress and the tailoring should be appropriate. But such padding in an unlined, cashmere blazer is out of place.

More importantly, the range of styles available through tailoring is often larger than you think. Limiting yourself through a single, narrow objective is a crying shame.

Pictured: two examples of sloping shoulders, on Mariano Rubinacci and myself

Brooks saddles: Two different sides of construction

2011-08-29T09:00:00.044+01:00

Last week saw a visit to the Brooks saddle factory in Smethwick, just outside Birmingham. A full report will appear in the end-of-year issue of The Rake, but in the meantime I thought I would take the opportunity to try posting a couple of videos filmed during the visit.

They show two very different aspects of the Brooks production process. Many parts of the saddles are still made by hand, with the edges skived off, the copper rivets hammered flush with saddle and the holes for those rivets produced with a hammer and pin. Some models require specific handwork - such as the Swallow, on which two flaps from either side of the saddle join up underneath. These need to be carefully cut down, moistened with a brush and slowly bent round if they are not to crack.

In the first video you can see this skiving being done and, later in the background, the copper rivets being rounded off.

The other side of production is the old iron machinery that still produces Brooks springs and steel blanks, later punching out the various parts of the skeleton of the saddle onto those blanks. The video shows one of the two 1940s monsters that produces the springs. One does the right springs, the other the left. They are seven-feet high, ten-feet long and - as you can hear - very noisy. One is German, one English, but they have worked together in harmony for over 60 years.