Manolo for the Men

Is it me, or do these driving moccasins from A. Testoni appear to be smiling?

A reader has kindly informed Izzy that a master tailor has responded to Giorgio Armani’s attack on Savile Row:

If anyone reading this works for Mr. Armani, please pass this message along to your boss:

Thomas Mahon, the Savile Row tailor will gladly meet up anywhere with you, anytime, in front of the press and some bloggers. Then, armed only with basic tools i.e. tape measure, bolt of cloth, shears, needle and thread, chalk etc, you two will both measure and make a suit for a third gentleman, a customer, WITHOUT the assistance of anyone else. Just the tailor, the customer and the tools.

When completed, we will show our results live, to the press and the blogosphere. Then we can all transparently see how much the skills actually match the rhetoric. Easy.

Izzy loves the idea: Iron Chef meets Project Runway.

Today’s New York Times contains an disappointing article about the current widespread use of skulls in fashion. Although the paper is right to note the trend, one Izzy touched upon a while back, it fails to give any recent history of the death’s head as decoration, including its use on Nazi S.S. uniforms or its place in the iconography of heavy metal, something the British shoemaker Jeffery West tries to market. The article claims that the skull has largely lost its edge as a symbol, but Izzy thinks its connotations depend upon the sex of the wearer. It’s one thing for a woman to borrow style cues from pirates or Hell’s Angels—she is clearly playing dress-up. But when a man does the same, he is liable to come across as threatening or uncivil—far from a good thing in Izzy’s estimation.

The Daily Mail is reporting that Britain is considering banning men from going bare-chested in town centers. The descamisados are revolting, indeed.

Izzy recently saw The Devil Wears Prada, which he thoroughly enjoyed. Though not mentioned by name, Valentino makes a surprise appearance in the film. Izzy was happy to see the sun-kissed couturier looking like a human being, and not an Oompa-Loopma as in times past.

Incidentally, for those of you who have ever wondered about such things, that strip of fabric with a buttonhole that extends from Valentino’s left lapel is called a throat-latch.

One of Izzy’s favorite sections in his daily newspaper is the obituraries—as the saying goes, they’re the only news that stays news. While recently reading about the life of Gerard Oury, the director of some of France’s favorite comedy films, Izzy learned that after receiving a string of death threats, Oury

responded by carrying a pistol concealed in a Louis Vuitton bag.

Only a Frenchman could have made a Louis Vuitton bag très masculin.

Slate magazine is featuring a fascinating article about the advent of street-fashion blogs, which publish photos of stylishly attired passers-by. Izzy wholeheartedly agrees with the author that

The best of these sites capture the joys of people-watching and offer an experience that’s more like lounging on a park bench than flipping through a fashion magazine. For one thing, the blogs aren’t label-conscious: Few identify the brands worn, and not one mentions the prices paid. Their subjects also tend to be dressed casually, with few business suits or cocktail outfits in sight. Even better, many of the subjects are actually smiling—quite a faux pas in the fashion world, which still demands the scornful, stricken look that traces back to Lord Byron.

Make sure to read the whole thing.

In honor of the soon-to-be-released Miami Vice movie (which, in Izzy’s opinion, makes the terrible mistake of not being set in the ’80s), the New York Times’ Guy Trebay penned an interesting article about the original TV show’s influence on fashion:

When he orchestrated the look of the original show, [the director Michael] Mann was venturing into stylistic territory already staked out by Italian designers, people like Gianni Versace, Gianfranco Ferre, or Giorgio Armani, the man generally credited with introducing the world to the unconstructed suit ? that is, without padding, a lining or internal stiffening. This might be as good a time as any to amend the old canard about Mr. Armani being the inventor of the floppy suit. It was long a staple of Neapolitan haberdashery, developed by tailors sent to London by wealthy patrons to apprentice on Savile Row.

Oddly, Trebay’s otherwise detailed account of the show’s style fails to mention footwear. How can one think of Crockett except in a pair of Espadrilles?

Having been travelling a lot lately, Izzy has been frustrated that only a diminutive compact umbrella can fit in his luggage.  (As much as he would like to, he alas doesn’t travel with steamer trunks.) Accordingly, he was very pleased to discover this ingenious travel umbrella from Brigg, the venerable purveyors of umbrellas to British royalty.

He was less pleased to discover that this Malacca beauty costs $495 at Ben Silver, or that the “humble” maple version still goes for $375.

There’s a fortune waiting to made for someone who can cheaply knock off manufacture this sort of design.

Having learned that The Manolo’s unique patois may have been ripped off by the folks at Neiman Marcus, Izzy wishes to inform fans of his master’s voice of a book they will definitely enjoy: the unintentionally hilarious nineteenth-century classic English as She Is Spoke. Intended as a Portuguese-English phrasebook, its Portuguese authors suffered from just one minor problem: they knew no actual English. Instead, they relied on literal dictionary definitions when translating, which caused them to pen some of the funniest English of all time.

Here are some sample phrases from the book, which are followed by the correct English:

Izzy will sometimes begrudgingly put up with logos on shirts, but seeing that Lacoste crocodile on the outside of a sport jacket makes him root for Captain Hook.

Chastened by having witnessed the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina, Mr. T has decided to shed his signature gold chains (and plate and spoon). It’s a sad day for lovers of outrageous bling, but his back and neck will thank him for it.