Manolo for the Men

A macho boutique might sound like a contradiction in terms, but one new shop in New York is trying to do just that. Part haberdasher, part barbershop, Freemans Sporting Club aims to be all things masculine.  Whether they’re able to achieve that, Izzy doesn’t yet know, but he is definitely excited by the fact that they are offering suits tailored by the illustrious Martin Greenfield out of deadstock.  According to this article about one of the store’s owners:

Durability of material and shape underpins his decision to use vintage deadstock, most of which dates to the ’40s and ’50s. Unlike Super 180s and other popular high-twist wools, FSC’s vintage stock is often only 70 or 90 twist, and, therefore, much stronger. Greenfield’s son, Jay, explains that “most suits today are designed to be made by machine and glued together,” and the fabric is therefore very light. “Because we make it by hand,” he says, “we can use fabric with more body and shape.”

FSC’s emphasis on durability translates into a crisp, structured suit body that will soften with age, but will always maintain its form. The suits are built around Swiss cotton and black horsehair canvas with black gossamer linings that reveal the basting and other remnants of construction.

Izzy hopes to stop by the shop for a look and feel on his next trip to Gotham.

Looking a bit like a turtle sticking its head out of its shell, Eddie Murphy would have benefited from a higher collar. Also, while midnight blue is an acceptable and sophisticated alternative to black in formal wear, the color of Murphy’s jacket is both unflattering and too light to qualify as such.

Although Izzy has a habit of making fun of the au courant designers, he must confess that ever since he saw Thom Browne’s Fall 2006 collection he has been inspired to experiment with winter whites. Having finally found a sumptuous pair of cream flannel trousers, he is dashing off to the nearest skating rink.

Izzy isn’t sure he’s brave enough to attempt the odd plaid jacket, but offers his kudos to this gentleman spotted by The Sartorialist. And the striking contrast between trousers and shoes also gets a special commendation.

“Pardon me, would you have any Grey Poupon?” were the most famous words spoken by the British actor Ian Richardson. Known in his homeland for playing the villain par excellence, he combined his sharp features with sharp conservative tailoring to become the very incarnation of a what the British call a toff.

Not for amateurs, the double-breasted jacket is a tricky item to wear successfully. Done wrong, it can make a young man look fuddy-duddyish, or the thin man look corpulent. This number from Valentino is an excellent example of a double-breasted jacket pulled off with panache. The secret lies in the jacket’s fittedness, including its waist-suppression, thin lapels at the correct angle, and an all-around proportionality.

Billy Baldwin’s jacket is way, way too long (as are its sleeves). Some hand-me-downs ought to be politely rejected.

From what Washington Post movie reviewer Stephen Hunter writes, the Good Shepherd sounds like it will be a holiday treat for the clothes-minded:

[Matt Damon's character] is from one of those old families — you know, the ones who knew everybody, got the best jobs and knew which wine went with which course. Ever notice their lapels? They never bunched up when they sat down, like yours or mine did. They had drape, and that’s the giveaway right there….

As anthropology and archaeology, the film is first-class. If old WASP high Anglican haberdashery was the dullest, tweediest cavalcade of threads ever conceived, the movie certainly understands this. The suits fit beautifully and look like mud on asphalt, the shoes are both shiny and dull, nobody has the wit to wear a Burberry but only those sacklike London Fog single-breasted raincoats and the little ’50s small-brimmed hat, usually with the tail feather of a Bavarian woodcock in the band. Color? These guys never heard of it!

Izzy must admit that he had never previously heard of Rochester-based Adrian Jules, but according to this article in the Robb Report, they and Oxxford Clothes are the only major American suitmakers that do most of their tailoring by hand. Alas, that kind of detail-work doesn’t come cheap, as their custom-made suits start at $1,500.

The New York Times is touting Thom Browne, the notorious proponent of ankle cleavage, as “today the most envied and influential American men’s wear designer.” Though the article contains much of interest, including the observation that Browne’s suits “caught on with an underserved customer: the businessman who wants to look both conservative and cool,” one claim in particular caught Izzy’s attention. The paper reports that to gain attention for his style, Browne “started eating breakfast—black coffee and white toast—every morning …at Pastis, neatly dressed in a Thom Browne suit-slash-sandwich board.”

It just so happens that one day this past summer, Izzy, apeing the idle rich, himself breakfasted at Pastis, a pretentious French bistro in New York’s meatpacking district. And whom did he behold sitting at his regular table just next to the entrance? Thom Browne, clad in extremely short seersucker pants with massive cuffs, and going sockless in black wingtips, just like in the above photo. The sight of his get-up did make an indelible impression. Little did Izzy know at the time that he was witnessing a highly effective self-advertisement. Mr. Browne deserves a belated hat tip.

As a big fan of the bravado of the young Robert Evans, Izzy finds it a great shame that the famed Hollywood producer ultimately became a self-parody (and not in a good way).

Though Izzy tries his best not to notice the bolo and make-up, he does give Evans credit for always covering his neck in his senescence. Hiding a gizzard or neck jowls can make a man look much younger, which is no doubt of the utmost importance for a notorious skirt-chaser like Evans.

Evans is not alone in recognizing the benefits of hiding one’s neck. Other older but famously stylish men who always wear shirts with very high-collars include Tom Wolfe and (former president of the Motion Picture Association of America) Jack Valenti.

Ay caramba! If he’s not careful, Simpsons‘ creator Matt Groening might publicly strangle himself.