Few men wear suits or odd jackets generally to attend sporting events any longer, no matter how well-heeled the audience, but what was once clothing for spectator sports still has lessons to teach us. The odd lovat or Donegal tweed suit is deserving of consideration on days when an odd jacket might be the automatic choice, and either suit or odd jacket benefits from the accessories worn by our man in the Esquire illustration.
The suit itself is a change of pace from the odd jackets that flood American streets. Eyes today are less used to seeing trousers that match jackets unless both are black, and the effect is a pleasant one, often accompanied by "I need one of those" or a similar thought.
Scanning the accessories from bottom up, we first see snuff brown suede chukka boots with natural crepe soles. Shoes with properly maintained crepe soles are still as comfortable as shoes ever get, and I am including every pair of athletic shoes I have ever worn in that comparison. Brown suede of course makes about the best looking casual shoe a man can have.
Above the trousers, the eye stops at the tattersall waistcoat, something that in one of the plainer patterns is quite wearable. It makes for an interesting accent with flannel suits, blazers, and the kinds of tweed suitings that some of us might wear to the office in Manhattan. Which is to say twills, herringbones and the like.
Finally, for I will not consider the Trilby hat, there is the oxford cloth shirt, a thing popularized by Brooks Brothers during its heyday as arbiter of the dress of the American male, with a club collar worn pinned. A man would need to have a shirt with that collar made for himself but would be well rewarded for doing so, particularly if he were to eschew pre-made eyelets and just pin the thing through the collar as nature intended.
And there is the bell.