The Sartorialist today featured a certain Angelo Inglese, whose surname is too-good-to-be-true for those who enjoy British style all’italiana. While his jacket sleeves and trousers might be too tight, his subtle combination of patterns should be an inspiration to us all. Also, although his cardigan appears have been tucked in carelessly, it is more likely a messy example of sprezzatura.
During a 24-hour stopover in Hong Kong, Tony Blair was able to have two suits, four jackets, and a dozen shirts made. Such a seemingly impossible feat was made possible by 55 tailors working through the night. Very colonial, that.
As promised, Izzy attended the Corduroy Appreciation Club’s 11|11 meeting yesterday in Brooklyn, and is delighted to report that he had an excellent time. The secret rites lived up to their reputation, the corduroy-themed foods were crunchy, and the crowd was simply drop-dead cord-geous. (Apologies…) Izzy had never seen so much ridged fustian in one place in his entire life. These people take their silliness extremely seriously.
Izzy was surprised to discover that there was an open bar (which, he imagines, would serve anything but a velvet hammer—that textile is anathema to the Club, which derides it as the fabric of Leprechauns), thanks to the sponsorship of the naturally supple people at Cotton Inc. (”The Fabric of Our Lives,” etc.), though Izzy couldn’t help remembering that corduroy can in fact be made from wool or cashmere, however rare that may be. (Random aside: Izzy doesn’t want to encourage any conspiracy theories, but doesn’t Cotton’s logo eerily resemble a mushroom cloud?)
Never one do things by halves, every visible item Izzy wore, except for his socks, was corduroy: a brown medium-wale sportcoat, an indigo pin-wale shirt, blue and green medium-wale Converse All-Stars, and outrageously pink medium-wale trousers (pictured in the background above). Izzy thought that the latter would be the piece de resistance, but he was, alas, one-upped by a gentleman in an entirely pink corduroy suit. Izzy consoled himself considering that although that gentleman may have won the day (and also the best-dressed prize), his suit was made in Vietnam (where the labor is cheap, and so is the workmanship), whereas Izzy’s trousers were made with the utmost care in Italy, and hence should last a lifetime. Also, while Izzy may have appeared to be merely ridiculous, that gentleman looked like the Pink Panther.
Among the best parts of the evening was the hilarious, arch homage to corduroy delivered by Lord Whimsy, who excels at mock erudition. Izzy even had the pleasure of (briefly) meeting him, as well as with Duncan Quinn, a rock-star haberdasher who was by far the sharpest-dressed gentleman in the room.
But of all the highlights, Izzy’s favorite was when he received his membership card, which is comfortingly backed with brown corduroy. All in all, the event deserves a hearty “Zip, Zip, Hooray.”
According to journalist Harry Mount (a member of the British aristocracy who, while in college at Oxford, was reportedly pushed down a hill in a porta-potty by a Hungarian count), the snobs are winning in their crusade against pockets on dress shirts:
The news that sales of shirts with breast pockets have collapsed - from 90 per cent of all shirts sold a decade ago to 25 per cent today - doesn’t surprise me. The clothes snobs have been fighting them for years, and tragically - for a breast pocket fan like me - they’ve won.
As they do in all clothes snob battles, snobs appeal to style when they make their argument, but what they are really appealing to is snobbery - to the ancient cry of “I know this rule and you don’t; I’ve got it right and you haven’t.”
Tailors say a breast pocket destroys the line of the suit. Of course those 12 square inches of thin cotton pocket - far thinner than the line of buttons alongside them - don’t destroy the line, unless you put something in it.
But whether the pocket is full or empty is neither here nor there. The real point is that the pocket is useful and, in clothes snob world, usefulness is the enemy of grandness.
It is true that, for both men and women, the more functional the piece of clothing, the less formal it is. Think of how you cannot roll back the sleeves on a french-cuff shirt, or how the pockets on a (slimly cut) tuxedo jacket can barely fit anything beyond a money-clip. When it comes to breast pockets on shirts, the issue is to what extent you are willing to trade formality for functionality, a question that each gentleman must determine for himself. Also, it should be noted that it is far more common in Britain than in America for men to wear shirts without pockets, which is a reflection of the relative informality of American attire. While Izzy himself enjoys the smooth, clean appearance of pocket-less shirts, which he does prefer when getting all snazzed up, on a day-to-day basis he gets frustrated when he has no convenient place to stash an iPod or a corned-beef-on-rye.
But whatever the basis for your decision to favor shirt pockets or not, please ensure that it has a firm moral founding. Snobbery, after all, is the vice of making inequality hurt.
With its wide lapels, big pocket flaps, matching vest, and narrow sleeves, Tom Ford’s suit would look straight out of the seventies except for the peak lapels and roped shoulders. While Izzy appreciates the latter features on their own, together they create a too-pointy appearance in the shoulder area.
While a low lapel can make you look like a maître d’ or Bill Clinton in his first term as president, a high lapel can fool people into thinking you’re a member of the aristocracy. Just don’t tell the gentry that you got the cotton twill jacket on sale at J. Crew for a proletarian $79.99.
Since Izzy is so often complaining about gentlemen wearing their jacket sleeves too long, it’s almost nice to see the opposite error, in which there is too much of a good thing. A quarter inch of cuff is too little, a entire inch, too much, but a half inch? It’s jussst right.
First published in 1964, and long out of print, the ABC of Men’s Fashion has just been re-issued. Izzy can’t claim ever to have read the guide, but it was at least written by Hardy Amies, the conservative-minded British designer most famous for being dressmaker to the Queen. (The son of a civil servant, he was notorious for his in-your-face snobbery: “I can’t help it,” he once defended himself, “I’m immensely impressed by all genuine upper-class manifestations.”) Izzy thinks it a shame that the new, bland cover ditched the original’s head-turning gentleman in a mod suit—note his narrow trousers and the jacket’s high gorge (where the lapels meet). His hat’s proportions are unfortunate, but such were the times. Even James Bond had to suffer a high-crown, narrow-brim trilby in Dr. No.
In honor of Labor Day, Izzy wishes to remind his readers of the travails of the working man. After all, even Cary Grant nearly burst a blood vessel in his forehead while knitting his own sweaters.
It may pale in political importance next to the tapes of President Nixon’s phone calls, but this surreal 1964 recording of LBJ ordering custom trousers from Joe Haggar still deserves a place in the history books. Be warned: the salty Texan’s choice of words—and colors—is of questionable taste.
New York magazine journalist has written about his first foray into bespoke tailoring, even though he was apparently ignorant of the subject. Not only does at first think it’s OK to button all of jacket’s buttons, from the wrinkles on his trousers, it looks like he chose his fabric poorly.
The Wall Street Journal just published a detailed article on Black Fleece, the forthcoming, highly-anticipated Brooks Brothers line designed by Thom Browne, the trad yet avant-garde designer:
Can Brooks Brothers appeal to a younger, hipper customer?
Next month, the privately held haberdashery will launch the biggest print-ad campaign in its 189-year history to introduce Black Fleece, a high-end collection by avant-garde designer Thom Browne. It’s part of the retailer’s broader effort to signal that it’s keeping up with the times and to draw in new customers.
Featuring clothes by Mr. Browne, known for ankle-baring gray-flannel suits and cropped jackets, is a departure for the venerable Brooks Brothers. Mr. Browne’s suits developed a cult following as the slender, 5-foot-10 budding designer sported them around New York’s Meatpacking District, where he began his own business in his apartment in 2001…
The Brooks Brothers collaboration with Mr. Browne is the latest effort to reach new customers, with a strategy now widely used in fashion and retail. Just as the brand Louis Vuitton became hip again under designer Marc Jacobs and Target Corp. upped its stores’ cool factor with Isaac Mizrahi, fashion marketers today “can’t operate without having a cutting-edge designer name,” says David Wolfe, creative director of Doneger Group retail consultants. “Thom Browne allows Brooks to layer in a designer name that has nothing to do with its core business, but enhances the image and cachet - that helps them move the regular merchandise.”…
It remains to be seen how Mr. Browne’s collection at Brooks Brothers will go over with customers. Mr. Browne’s fans won’t see his name on the label, which features the Brooks Brothers fleece logo in black rather than gold. Though not as extreme as his own label, which will continue to sell at other stores, the clothes have a decidedly close-to-the-body fit. Men’s sizes go up to only a 46-chest jacket. All the pants in the collection, however, come with unfinished bottoms that can be hemmed the way the customer wants and don’t have to be as short as Mr. Browne wears them.
On Brooks Brothers chief merchandising officer Lou Amendola, who has been working closely with Mr. Browne, a gray-flannel style that he was test-driving looked like a snugger version of a Brooks Brothers suit. He says Black Fleece is aimed at an “attractive 30-plus, young professional who needs to dress up but wants a little bit more of a style to conservative clothing.”…
Brooks Brothers plans displays of Black Fleece items on tables with jackets opened so customers can study the handwork that went into the garments….
Mr. Browne, who will make appearances at several Brooks Brothers stores, including one near his hometown of Allentown, Pa., acknowledges that his styles could take some getting used to. But he says that once men put on the jackets, they’ll discover that they can move their arms despite the snugger fit. “People don’t realize fitted clothes make you look thinner,” he says.
Izzy wholeheartedly agrees with the sentiment, and is eager to check out the new line when it debuts.
