Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Guest Post: Patch Pockets

by Nick Foulkes


The patch pocket is something that I came to relatively late in life. Until I was about forty years old (on December 2nd this year I was 45), I only wore jackets (or coats if you prefer) with jetted pockets and flaps. There were two exceptions: a ‘buggy-backed’ heavy weight brushed cotton drill jacket with three patch pockets and a shooting jacket in mustard tweed with generous bellows pockets and pointed button flaps, both created for me by the peerless Terry Haste, one of the true, and few, greats of modern tailoring.

I can’t really ascribe my prejudice against patch pockets to anything in particular – I suppose I just happened to like the slightly racy yet formal edge imparted by a slant pocket with an angled flap. Executed in a single button style I find that there is little to beat it for elegance and cleanness of line.

However that was before I met Mariano Rubinacci. Mariano is the eponymous proprietor of the prototypical Neapolitan tailor and the head of one of Europe’s most notable dynasties of elegance. His father started the shop as little more than a diversion from the serious business of collecting porcelain and generally cultivating his aesthetic sensibilities and it is Mariano that I have to thank for turning me on to the potential of the patch pocket.

As a Neapolitan gentleman of the old school, a time when Naples was a royal city with a social and cultural life to rival that of say Paris, what Mariano understands is the concept of relaxed elegance. His clothes are meant to be put on and forgotten; he is for example a great advocate of unlined garments with minimal padding at the shoulder; and the patch pocket is part of that vision. It has an ergonomic, almost organic quality to it; curving rather than rectilinear, it also enables the tailors to indulge in a display of decorative stitching, should they so wish, with one or two lines of top stitching to secure the pocket against the front of the jacket.

The result is oddly liberating, whereas before I used to fret about putting something in the pocket and thus disturbing the line of the garment, I now find that I don’t mind loading my pockets… in fact I find that charging one’s pockets and then emptying them and having the garment pressed, impart a new feeling of comfort, a worn-in quality that makes a garment truly one’s own rather the property of the man who made it.

And now I feel I ready to embark upon the next stage in patch pocket odyssey: the slanted patch pocket. I recently spotted Mariano’s son the super stylish Luca wearing a gorgeous rose coloured dogtooth check with a green window pane over check with slanted patch pockets with inverted pleats …and I now know the meaning of pocket envy.


Nick Foulkes is a journalist and prolific author whose works include Dunhill By Design, Last of the Dandies, and Dancing into Battle. He is married with two sons and lives in Shepherd's Bush, London.

4 comments:

SMII said...

An excellent elucidation on the intricacies of relaxed elegance Mr Foulke. Accordingly, compliments to Will for affording a rostrum to contributing authors.

London House occupies, and I write without hesitation, an exemplar class of chic tailoring that epitomizes timeless style.

William said...

Great article! very pleased the mustard tweed was mentioned as I made that when i was working as a coat maker at Huntsman on Savile Row.
Keep up the good work Will(and Nick)

The Rambler said...

Fun essay! Like you, I resisted my old world Italian tailor's suggestions of patch pockets on blazers. My pockets fill up over the course of the day, and I was afraid it would look lumpy. Which it does, but the elegant hand stitching around the edges is beautiful, and somehow goes well with the lump.

paquitookwesa said...

from the red -haired sage of style.i still blame you for introducing me to charvet which depleted my meagre financial resources!!.when are you moving next door to holland park.thanks to will and nick.

 
Blog Widget by LinkWithin