Late Day Exemplars

Late day dress as Hardy Amies called it is what a man should wear into the evening when the ladies will be wearing black cocktail dresses. And in the photograph from 1952 the three classic late day ensembles are illustrated perfectly. From left to right:

-The actor Alfred Lunt, in a solid navy suit, white shirt and silver necktie.

-His wife, actress Lynn Fontanne in, of course, a black cocktail dress.

-Photographer Cecil Beaton in a solid gray suit, white shirt and silver necktie.

-Noël Coward in navy blazer, gray trousers, white shirt and a bow tie.

Perfection.

A New And Very Large Exotic

Weighing between 1 1/2 and three tons, the hippopotamus is the third largest land animal on the planet, with a tough skin that has found a new application: London's George J. Cleverley has begun making shoes from it.

There is apparently a small supply of regulated hippopotamus skins that are certified to have originated from animals that died of natural causes without being hunted. Cleverley hand selects the best of these for their texture, color, and a strong grain that gives each shoe a unique appearance.

Made for a gentleman in Singapore, the shoe in the photos is a bespoke two-tie blucher with hippo tassel laces and a crepe sole.

Photos: George J. Cleverley

A Civilized Statement

September begins that run of autumnal months that give a man the excuse, should he need one, to stay out until all hours wearing his dinner clothes. Among the dates that deserve attention in San Francisco are September 7 (opening night at the Opera) and September 19 (the Symphony). There are comparable occasions in Los Angeles, Chicago and other cities, including London (September 8 is Last Night at the Proms) and New York (September 24 is the opening of the Metropolitan Opera).

The point of all this of course is that each of us needs to do his part to make the world an ever so slightly more civilized place. And, having done that part, there is no reason not to let our hair down after the formal portion of the evening is over.

Personally, I think a disheveled dinner jacket late at night makes a uniquely civilized statement. Just remember to bring it along when you exit the cab.

Lifestyle: Petit Coronas

More than fifty years ago, then-President John F. Kennedy had Pierre Salinger buy four dozen boxes of the now discontinued H. Upmann petit coronas the night before he signed the Cuban embargo into law, banning the import of Cuban products into the United States and devastating the tobacco tastebuds of an entire generation. In those days there were few acceptable alternatives.

As it happens, I have over the years come to favor coronas and petit coronas, foresaking larger cigars that simply take too long to smoke, particularly now that smokers of any kind are banned from so many temperature controlled environments. Fortunately, the world-wide cigar industry has made great strides toward producing cigars of the quality once found only in Cuba. I principally consume Dominican Arturo Fuente Don Carlos #3s, a 5 1/2" smoke that is spicy and full bodied. It is consistently rated 90 (outstanding) by Cigar Aficionado magazine and many people consider it the best of the entire highly regarded Fuente product line.

The grass, or tobacco in this case, always being greener on the other side of the fence, I recently audited an off-shore tasting of three Cuban petit coronas that are rated with or somewhat better than the Fuentes. Two of them, the Romeo & Julieta Cedro Deluxe #3 and the Montecristo #4 were 5 1/8" long, the standard for the size. The other, a Cohiba Siglo 1, is only 4" long - technically a tres petite corona - but the Siglo 2 that is the proper length could not be found on the appointed day.

The principal ratings differences of any of these cigars from year to year tend to be related to the quality of their construction rather than their flavor, and my colleagues certainly found that to be true this time. The Montecristo emerged as the favorite though not by a wide margin, with my Don Carlos unanimously rated fourth in this completely un-scientific test.

Unlike cigarettes, which are a health nightmare, cigars taken in moderation do not seem to have lasting effects that are as bad for the consumer as, for only one example, Coca Cola. Nonetheless, between politics and the anti-tobacco-in-any-form crowd, I expect the embargo will go on indefinitely, like the century-old California water subsidies that have us paying farmers to grow irrigated rice in the middle of a desert. But that is life.

Skinny Neckties

Some men cringe every time they hear the words ‘skinny tie.’ I know I do, even though I wear them. Huh? Yes; I wear them. But I do not call them skinny ties (like I said, it makes me cringe), I do not wear them because they happen to be ‘in’ right now, and I do not wear them to the exclusion of wider ties.

Narrow, or ‘bar’ shaped ties (as they were originally called, and as I like to call them), came into vogue not in the 1960’s, as most might suppose, but somewhere around the year 1938 (Those of you who are really astute will claim that even this is a second incarnation, harking back to when New York mayor James Walker popularized them in the twenties). They had no set width, but let me relieve you by telling you they were nearly twice as wide as those horrible, spaghetti ties of the 60’s. Also, they tapered very little (hence the name ‘bar-shaped’) and as such provided a somewhat substantial knot despite the narrowness of the tie. As illustrated in the pages of Esquire, they were shown almost exclusively with double-breasted, wide lapel suits.

I am aware of the old maxim that says your necktie width should correspond with your lapel width, but this is one instance were the rules go by the board. In this case, it is the contrast between narrow tie and wide lapel that creates a dynamic look—especially if the lapels have ‘belly’ (the lower edge of the lapel is curved). Anthony J. Drexel Biddle, Jr. dressed this way almost exclusively, and always looked fabulous (I refer you also to the famous Hurrell photograph of the Doug Fairbankses, Junior and Senior. Doug Sr., in white shirt and chalk-striped suit with generous lapels, wears a bar-shaped tie). The bar-shaped tie isn’t quite as flattering to a single-breasted suit. But if you want to try it, you would be well-advised to wear a lapel that is a bit wider than your tie. If nothing else, this sets you apart from the trend followers.

Now I know that many men are wary of anything that even remotely smacks of a trend. I don’t blame them. Each autumn I like to walk into Bergdorf Goodman New York to see the fall neckties. One year I walked in and saw nothing but narrow ties on the first floor. Every maker had jumped on the same bandwagon. When I asked a salesman what was going on, he said—in the snootiest voice he could muster—“That’s what they’re wearing THIS season, sir.” His aquiline nose was pointed towards the ceiling as he said it. It was a turnoff, and I left. Like I said, I have nothing against narrow neckties, so long as they hang around my neck one at a time. What I dislike is having a million of them shoved down my throat.

So continue to be wary. Just don’t let your wariness make you forget—as I temporarily did at Bergdorf’s—that this stuff is supposed to be fun. Whether or not you wear narrow ties is totally immaterial, as long as you remember that you are a free man who exists outside of the shackles of passing trends. The cosmopolitan thing is to have ties of varying widths in your collection, with no extremes on either end of your spectrum. You buy them over time, as they become available. You make yourself immune to the ephemeral nonsense of that Bergdorf salesman, who, in short order, will no doubt be telling everyone within earshot that wide neckties are the only way to go.

Words by Barry Pullen

Photo by LIFE

A Vest For All Occasions

At the same time that King Charles II brought the cravat back from France to his Restoration Court in 1660, he also brought the waistcoat, which was long in the front and did not become the shorter modern prototype for the vest until the end of the eighteenth century. The Koti, a long, armless gilet, buttoned to the neck with a stand collar, has been found in parts of Asia for a very long time and is still with us.

Both the cravat and the waistcoat were incorporated into Restoration Court dress and then they gradually became incorporated into dress for town and country. Indeed, the evolution of the coat (soon worn with an English turn-down collar), waistcoat and breeches from this time marks the point from which the elements of modern men’s dress become discernible and the Regency men, led by the Prince, in the footsteps of Brummell, simply made the transition from the gorgeous cloths of the late eighteenth century (created into clothes by tailors such as Louis Bazalgette), to dark Bath coating and woollen superfines; worked by Weston, Meyer and the rest of the new generation of tailors in the post-revolution age.

The modern vest comes in several different types and there is something for every occasion. Twentieth century protocols even made distinctions between different types of white evening waistcoats: long points and four buttons were suitable for certain social occasions but three buttons and short points were de rigueur for alternative Court Dress (basically ordinary, full evening dress). Nowadays, of course, such prescriptions no longer apply and, as with much else, and within reason, anything goes.

There are the formal vests for full morning dress and these are often buff or grey (either single or double-breasted) or they may be black in the same cloth as the coat, worn with white slips around the neckline, in imitation of the layers of vests that the Georgians wore. Indeed, white slips may also be worn around buff or grey morning vests. Vests are also still part of the short morning coat outfit; otherwise known as the ‘stroller’ or the ‘Stresemann’. They are seldom seen but white morning vests are very fine. Double-breasted vests are called ‘Ascot vests’ by the tailors, as they are often worn at the Royal Ascot race meeting.

There are black tie evening vests, cut low down the front, to display shirtfront and studs; and these have a three button, single-breasted closure and lapels. White waistcoats with evening dress coats are similar and may even be worn with a dinner jacket and black tie. In fact, there is a portrait in Buck’s Club (with its strong transatlantic links), of its founder, Captain Herbert Buckmaster (‘Buck’), in a dinner jacket, black tie and white evening vest. We recently had a friend to stay and, for the occasion, he had Messrs Gieves & Hawkes make him an ecru, barathea dinner jacket with corded silk shawl collar and lapels, together with a claret cummerbund and tie. I have to say (for all that I have said before about such coloured evening combinations), in the context of a tropical dinner jacket, it all came together very well indeed and a coloured cummerbund deserves to be less despised than it sometimes is.

Lounge suits can come in three pieces and a double-breasted vest with a single-breasted suit (although once regarded as ‘fast’) is very effective; as is a single-breasted vest with a double-breasted suit. However, I have also seen a double-breasted vest with a double-breasted suit coat; although I would not go for that myself. Moreover, a contrasting, light vest can also set off a dark suit; while a coloured doeskin (maybe in claret, scarlet, mustard or green), or a Tattersall checked vest makes a nice contrast with a tweed suit or sporting coat.

The Victorians quite favoured fancy, brocade vests and, although I am not against them as such (as they can considerably brighten up social events), I tend to leave those to others.

Words by Nicholas Storey

Time For Oxfords

Summer is the time for dressy slip-on shoes since their proportions work with the season's lighter suits and there is little or no weather to overwhelm their low cut sides and lighter construction. But, alas, there were thunderstorms in Las Vegas this past week (it is monsoon season) and those called for oxfords.

In the photo, bespoke espresso brown quarter brogues worn with a gray mid-weight suit (from the Lesser 9/10 book) and Bresciani's pick and pick cotton and silk dress hose that have grown on me these past months to the point that I find myself reaching for a pair every week.

Looking Ahead

Hard to believe but fall is on the way. And welcome, for fall is the best time of year here. The fog disappears, the sun shines and there are occasions for clothes from every season.

In the photo, old friends. Suede Edward Green oxfords, Bresciani cashmere and wool socks and one of Peter Harvey's tweed suits.

A Touch Of Color At The Neck

Today is the 100th anniversary of the birth of Mr. Gene Kelly, the late American song and dance man who with Fred Astaire dominated those roles in his era. And today the birthday boy demonstrates how a touch of color worn at the neck can complete the neutrals of the season and draw the eye to the face of the wearer, which is after all where it ought to be.

Always competently dressed himself, Kelly lacked Astaire's memorable style and has less of a place in our collective consciousness for that. But he knew that the sun is the place for white and tan neutrals, where they are given a necessary spark by a colored shirt collar or cotton bandana.

Photo: An American in Paris

Lifestyle: 1% Against

James Bond plays the casino card game baccarat in the films Dr. No, Thunderball, On Her Majesty's Secret Service and GoldenEye, which drew this young man's attention to the game.

There are three versions of baccarat played in the Casino Monte Carlo, namely chemin de fer, baccara, and baccarat. The first two date back to 19th-century France, while the third came to Las Vegas fifty years ago from Argentina. To the best of my knowledge, it is the only version now played in the United States at the better casinos. In Las Vegas the Wynn, the Venetion, the MGM and the Bellagio each have twenty or more tables.

As a game, baccarat is nothing special. It is a comparing card game between the player and the banker, where the house takes about 1% of the money crossing the table. That makes it somewhat more expensive on average than blackjack where the edge against the gambler is as little as a third of 1% and players with keen powers of observation can actually turn that into a positive (I should mention that any form of high stakes gambling is a sucker's game in the United States since winnings are taxed but losses are not deductible). No, it is the somewhat more elegant company that makes baccarat worth playing.

More exclusive than the other table games in most casinos, baccarat is played in a separate room or a roped off area. Men aren't allowed in the private rooms of the Casino Monte Carlo in anything less than a jacket and tie and evening clothes are not out of place. In Las Vegas of course the standard is considerably lower and those ladies who are well dressed tend to be middle aged or older. But still, the free drinks mean that a man can spend an evening playing cards in relatively interesting company for not much more than he would otherwise spend talking to a bartender at a cocktail lounge.

Photo: Dr. No

Pin Stripes

The pin striped suit should probably be the second and third pattern in each season's wardrobe after the charcoal and the navy solid, at least it ought to be for men working in finance, the law and other areas where these things matter. For the pin stripe says city and business like no other.

That said, pin stripes say business so definitively that they should not be worn away from the office, unless it is to an after work event where no-one could reasonably be expected to change clothes. Worn out of place, they speak to a limited wardrobe as in "I had nothing else to wear." That may be more true than not, but a solid worn in the pin stripe's stead makes no such statement.

Pin stripes should in my opinion always be worn with oxfords, the definitive shoe for the city and business. And since they have a noticeable pattern, they ought to be combined with either a solid shirt or a solid necktie lest things get too complex and others think the wearer pays too much attention to his clothes. Wear a white or pink shirt with suits that have a charcoal ground, and white or blue with navy. Stuff a white linen square in the jacket's breast pocket and top things off with a foulard necktie if the shirt is a solid, or a solid grenadine if the shirt is patterned.

Oh, and by the way, the pin stripes themselves ought always to be off-white or light gray with charcoal, and off-white or light blue with navy.

Titfers and Tiles

‘Titfers’ (‘tit-for-tat’ = ‘hat’, is Cockney rhyming slang) and ‘tiles’ have, apart from still serving a function as weather shields, been in gradual decline as western clothing since the 1960s, when JFK (although top-hatted for his inauguration), decided to go largely hatless. His influence was such that his reported enjoyment of Ian Fleming’s Bond books boosted their sales at the same time that he more or less single-handedly consigned hats to history; well, nearly.

Hats certainly lingered for a while amongst the older generation, especially for work but the men’s hat which has survived the least scathed is the classless tweed cap, and not just for country sporting activities but even in town; especially on those who commute in from the countryside. However, it is no longer seen in the massed ranks of labourers and football match spectators as it was sixty years ago.

Anyway, until my attention was drawn to a feature in the London Evening Standard recently, I remained of the view that hats had become things largely just for Olduns and Chaps (that is to say, those with retro-centric inclinations in dress). It seems, though, that the film The King’s Speech, which hams-up the speech problems of King George VI and puts a modern Italian coat on Colin Firth in the part, also tripped some switches in the public consciousness with a very fine black bowler\ derby\ coke hat, which looks as though it was probably made bespoke by Patey Hats. Consequently, although there are no reports yet of riotous assemblies or any storming of Patey’s, Lock’s, Herbert Johnson and Bates, hats are back on the streets and, apparently, even the catwalks. Young fellows (and not just Chaps) have been seen on the streets in bowlers, fedoras and trilbies, as well as flat caps. I always think that evidence of hats, gloves and practical handkerchiefs are signs that western civilization is still twitching; despite all the modern madness, and very real fears that everything worthwhile is going to the dogs.

Julian Fellowes, creator of the film Gosford Park and the television series Downton Abbey, mentions in one of his books that men stopped wearing toppers at smart weddings at some point in the 1980s. Maybe the seeming resurgence in hats will bring even these back for special occasions beyond Royal Ascot. I would find that quite a treat.

Words and photo by Nicholas Storey

Never Without You

Will’s recent experience with air travel reminded me that for a long time I’d wanted to write a piece on travelling not in style, but with a minimum of the suffering inherent in modern air travel. Times are far advanced from Cecil Beaton’s lament, included in his “unexpurgated” 1960s diaries edited by Hugo Vickers, whose name on a book is a promise of a guiltily bitchy good time:

The inconvenience of travel in the past was a somewhat long drawn-out affair that could easily be borne. There were not the appalling moments of panic, despair and physical discomfort that we put up with today.

And that was before DB Cooper and hijackings to Entebbe and underpants bombers and mouthwash terrorists, backscattering and random searches of toddlers, airline deregulation and SkyMall, inflight charges for Au Bon Pain sandwiches, the suicide-inducing sameness of Marriott Courtyards and Hotels Ibis, the ghastliness of “business” chain hotels with concierge levels (but they pronounce it “kawn-see-ay”) and obligatory chocolates on the pillow, the corporatizing and Disneyfication of the creaky old palaces that had become bywords for bygone luxury and service…

Travel is still a luxury, but luxury has become elusive in travel. However, this is not going to become a Tyler Brûlé-style column lamenting how international first class in certain carriers means a freezer-burned Ben & Jerry’s sundae bar. Suffice it to say that now as with then, even the most luxurious surroundings are no substitute for the intangible comforts of one’s home and the solace of one’s loved ones.

There have been many attempts to invent the ultimate travel accessory: something that either minimizes the torment of travel or that brings back what one misses about home. I give high marks to the Handpresso, a little device that allows one to brew a cup of strong coffee with nothing more than some hot water, elbow grease and some ground espresso. A few high-profile designers always mention bringing a favorite travel candle with them to burn in their hotel rooms, but that brings back unfortunate memories of a wax-dripping candle on a spike in my room at the Royalton years ago.

More than inflatable neck pillows or noise-cancelling headphones, the frame pictured brings me solace. Simple and small enough for snapshots, easily portable. Travel frames ought to be more available than they are – in contrast to today’s omnipresent electronic accessories, there is a pleasing low-tech permanence to something I can simply take out, unfold, and gaze at whenever I wish to be reminded of those I care most about, regardless of voltage, charge or WiFi connection. This particular frame was made to order for me by Aubercy, the family-owned French shoemakers whose shop has been near the Paris stock exchange since the 1930s. The third generation of the family, the genial and passionate Xavier Aubercy, has kept the Aubercy brand relevant with a variety of creative shoe designs, executed to a very high standard by Enzo Bonafe in Italy. However, in addition to their ready-to-wear and made-to-order shoes, Aubercy also offers excellent custom leathergoods handmade in France and in Italy. Some may carp that Aubercy simply subcontracts to (talented) external craftsmen. However, with a little experience I’ve learned to value a few addresses like Aubercy that can reliably supply the best, whether made in-house or not, rather than engage in expensive trial and error.

This is especially the case with shagreen (in French galuchat, named for the artisan who first realized that stingray skins were useful for other purposes besides sanding furniture). Shagreen is generally a very stiff material that is hard to work, which is why many makers refuse to, while others who try may not be able to deliver on their promise. Aubercy also offers shoes in it, but even I wouldn’t dare. Mme Aubercy was happy to have this frame made for me in shagreen (stingray) from Roggwiller, a leading exotic leather supplier now controlled by Hermès. (The stingray that shagreen is made from is not listed in CITES.) The result is exquisitely well done, a momentary material pleasure in contemplating my personal loves.

This has travelled with me for the last five years wherever I’ve gone, a succession of longitudes and latitudes in shelters of varying degrees of quirkiness and pretension. The photo is of a little hellion, an eager little monster, a barking breath of home.

Photo and words by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

Try Black Cherry

Black shoes are better with charcoal suits but frankly do not complement navy all that well in my opinion. No, what works best with dark blue is oxblood, the dark brownish-red shade of the shoes in the photo. And not just any oxblood mind you, but one that has been polished with Saphir's bordo wax alternating with black (what Kevin Tuohy, partner in A Shine & Co. calls a black cherry shine) for several years. The result complements navy blue, adding depth and interest, but is dark enough to look black to the casual observer after 6:00 PM.

Lifestyle: The Evening Cocktail

There are two good times for cocktails, in my opinion. Al fresco afternoon drinks with friends are always a pleasure but better still is evening, under an early moon.

The next time the moon is up in your vicinity, try accompanying it with a gin cocktail. The drink of the British overseas because it was simple to pack, a gin cocktail is a palate seducing mixture of juniper berries, orange peel, lemon zest, coriander, clove and other assorted botanicals.

Your bartender may start to look it up but you can save both of you some time by explaining that a gin cocktail is simply two shots of Hendrick's (or Plymouth if you are off the beaten track somewhere) and two dashes of bitters stirred with ice and strained into a cocktail glass with a twist of lemon peel.

Enjoy the moon.

Wear A Double Breasted

I was having an email conversation with a friend about cummerbunds the other day, those waist coverings for warm weather black tie that have a precarious foothold in the winter wardrobe as well. Cummerbunds are descended from the silk sashes worn instead of waistcoats by the British in the heat of India and were introduced into the United States to accompany the white mess jacket in the 1930s. The mess jacket quickly disappeared - it was attractive only on men with washboards for abdomens - but the cummerbund hung around when the mess jacket became a white or cream single breasted for summer evenings.

The spread of cummerbund popularity peaked in the second half of the twentieth century, after dinner jacket manufacturers realized that the things were much less expensive than tailored waistcoats. Yes, there has always been the drive to save a nickle here and there in ready to wear, and the cummerbund preceded the dinner jacket with pocket flaps and notch lapels. Though not by much. But the ready to wear waistcoat was effectively replaced by the cummerbund year round and I recall wearing them to holiday dances as a teenager.

The precariousness of the cummerbund's place for cool weather evenings has to do of course with the disappearance of waist coverings in general. The growing popularity of black suits with visible belt buckles and that terrible triangle of white shirt below the two button jacket's closing has more to do with what the designers send to their high profile clients to wear on camera than it does to elegance or good taste, but so be it.

There is of course a perfectly good alternative for those minimalist men who insist on dispensing with waistcoat and cummerbund and that is the double breasted dinner jacket, worn very nicely by Mr. Forest Whittaker in the photo. It deserves more of a place than it has.

Without Lustre

I wrote in passing a few days ago that Stephen Temkin of hatmaker Leon Drexler is making a midnight blue lord's hat for me, the lord's hat being a somewhat more casual homburg with bashes and an unbound brim. And as we were discussing the hat, Stephen suggested a venetian finish, something I had never seen before. A venetian finish is more lustrous, like the hat (not mine) in the photo. It is especially appropriate for evening, which is one of the intended occasions for my own hat, but I declined as I was concerned that the lustre would limit its usefulness during the day.

The homburg was brought to England around the end of the 19th century by the late dandy King Edward VII, grandfather of the (in)famous Duke of Windsor. It is considered the second most formal style of headgear after the top hat that accompanies the tailcoat, and as such is the best choice to wear with black tie, should anyone ever wear a hat with black tie any longer. And since only you and I know its history the homburg has a further use as tongue in cheek daywear. 99% of homburgs are black or charcoal gray, but a brown one is both unexpected and elegant on the street. Indeed, my best memory of the style is an image of two very large men (think offensive linemen for an NFL football team) in a Jaguar XKR driving north of San Francisco with the top open in the sunshine, cigars in mouths and homburgs on their heads. It was hardly an occasion calling for a homburg but a look worthy of emulation nonetheless.

I have written in the past that I do not wear hats every day but do like them in a heavy fog/light rain in lieu of an umbrella and when driving with the top open to protect my head from sunburn. In midnight blue the new hat will complement complement gray as well as navy suits in those conditions as well as a dinner jacket in the unlikely event that it is ever worn with one. But the finish will be matte, and not lustrous.

Photo: Leon Drexler

Wearing Metal

Bits and pieces of metal typically decorate the male body, from belt buckles and blazer buttons to the horsebits on Gucci loafers, and they look better coordinated in an insouciant way than they do when left completely random.

Metals fall into two primary groups in a decorative sense, those being the gold and brass family on the one hand and silver and steel on the other. Of the two, gold is easier to wear if significantly more expensive. Gold does not tarnish and so is virtually maintenance free, requiring only a periodic cleaning to remove the inevitable dirt build-up. Most wedding rings are gold, simplifying one part of the metals problem, and gold is a better complement to white for evening and to navy jackets - particularly blazers with brass or gold buttons - at any time.

The expense of gold can be ameliorated with a steel and gold wristwatch like the one in the photo. Gold and silver watches and watch bands are suited only for day wear (the old custom said gentlemen do not wear wristwatches in the evening anyway) but they help coordinate the day's other metals. Equally appropriate is a collection of four watches, two of them gold and two of them silver. One of each pair should be mated with a black and the other a brown alligator band that will match the day's shoes (this stuff gets complex). Now that cell phones have effectively killed the watch as anything other than jewelry however, having multiple watches really begins to seem like overkill unless watch collecting becomes an aim in itself. But I digress.

Most usefully, the steel and gold watch lends itself to silver cufflinks that can be a better complement than gold to a gray jacket. Silver of course is shorthand for a variety of substances including white gold and the best of those is platinum which is more durable than white gold and lacks gold's impurities (nickle was used to color the stuff in the past and though unlikely to do damage should ideally not be worn next to the skin).

Belt buckles, being visible, should also relate to the day's other metals. The best way to achieve this is with interchangeable straps and buckles but the equally appropriate alternative is the four belt rotation consisting of brown with silver, brown with gold, black with silver and black with gold. But by now you get the picture.

The Fall Of The House Of Sulka

In 1985, a fashion writer for The New York Times weighed the positives and negatives of a smoking jacket from the legendary haberdasher Amos Sulka & Co. On the one hand, the retail price was $1500. On the other hand, Anne-Marie Schiro wrote, “nothing from Sulka ever goes out of style.”

At once a by-word for classic conservative styling and wardrobe furnishings made to the highest standards of quality, A. Sulka & Co. became the preeminent clothier for the affluent from New York to London to Paris. The company’s loyal customers included such notables as the Duke of Windsor, Henry Ford, Winston Churchill, Clark Gable, Rudolf Valentino, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gary Cooper, and various members of the Kennedy and Rockefeller clans.

The company was founded under more humble circumstances in 1895 when Amos Sulka, a traveling salesman and retailer from Johnston, Pa., entered into a partnership with Leon Wormser, a custom shirt-maker from Alsace-Lorraine. That same year, A. Sulka & Co. opened its first storefront on lower Broadway in Manhattan. The business initially catered to stocky police officers and firefighters who found it difficult to find proper-fitting shirts. The partners then sought to expand their business by cultivating a wealthier clientele; ingeniously, they did so by first accommodating their butlers. The business flourished and, within a decade, the Paris shop opened at 2 Rue de Castiglione.

A few years later, the company began operating a laundry service to shrink and wash the cotton in the shirts. By 1917, the store was also taking in clothing from customers to prevent their shirts from being damaged at ordinary laundries – a service which enabled the company to survive the Great Depression. It was in the 1920s and 1930s that the Sulka dressing gown-robe came to prominence. The company offered several styles of robes, from the heavy silk brocade or jacquard fabric with abstract or representational designs, to lightweight French flannels with broad horizontal stripes and a heavily fringed belt or sash. Most dressing gowns featured large notched lapels with cord trimming along the edges, pockets, and cuffs, while other styles included motifs that depicted everything from bullfights to dances to Asian dragons. Fabric choices also included vicuna, velveteen, and wool, and ranged in price from $2.00 for a basic model to $90.00 for the luxurious vicuna. The more expensive models were referred to as “lounging robes,” while the inexpensive offerings in heavier cottons were simply called “bath robes”.

For aspiring social-climbers, the haberdasher represented the finest in all things sartorial. When he wasn’t schooling his protégés in the finer points of organized crime, Arnold Rothstein attempted to impress upon his charges the importance of dressing in a less flamboyant, more conservative manner. Decades later, Charles “Lucky” Luciano would fondly recall, “Arnold gimme a dozen French ties made by some guy by the name of Charvet. They was supposed to be the best and Arnold bought a hundred ties whenever he went to Paris. He also used to buy silk for his shirts by the bolt at a place in France called Sulka, and he always would give me some as a present . . .”

After Amos Sulka’s death in April 1946, the company remained a well-regarded institution among the international elite. Its continued financial success led the company to expand beyond the initial New York and Paris locations, and in this market saturation lay the eventual seeds of the company’s demise. Ultimately, the renowned haberdasher would add retail shops in London at 27 Old Bond Street, in addition to locations in New York City on Park, Madison, and Fifth Avenues, as well as a boutique in the Waldorf-Astoria. Shops were also opened in Chicago, San Francisco and Beverly Hills. It was more than the market could bear.

Perhaps the company’s difficulties may have been overcome by a sound business plan that redirected Sulka’s marketing efforts towards the development of a younger customer base. But with the business geared to an older generation whose numbers were rapidly dwindling by the turn of the century, the company was not situated to effectively withstand the steady customer attrition. That lack of foresight, coupled with a perfect storm of circumstances that included the rise of corporate “business casual” attire and the new entrepreneur class’ utter disdain for “dressing up,” spelled the end for the legendary haberdashery.

While there may have been other issues at play, it is interesting to note that some of the reasons cited a decade ago as the underlying causes behind the fall of the house of Sulka are now being hailed as factors that have spurred the recent resurgence in classic men’s style. 10 years ago, retail experts and fashionistas cited Sulka’s refusal to genuflect at the altar of the cult of celebrity - that failure to associate the brand with a famous personality was said to have sounded a death knell. Yet recently, a movement away from that mentality toward more artisan-driven, craftsmanship-oriented luxury goods has taken hold, highlighted by the craze for all things bespoke.

While the nostalgic will gloomily declare that the end of Sulka marked a sad turning point in the history of men’s style, the more optimistic among us will look to Sulka’s demise as both the end of an age and hopefully the beginning of a promising new era. Today, the remaining old guard of men’s houses have evolved and re-introduced themselves to a younger generation of dandies and sartorial sophisticates. Most notably, Paul Stuart and Brooks Brothers took to heart the perils of maintaining the status quo in the face of a changing marketplace – the former company responded by introducing its Phineas Cole line to appeal to a younger demographic, and, more recently, invited prominent style-bloggers to design some of its Madison Avenue window displays; while the latter introduced its Black Fleece line designed by Thom Browne.

Alongside the old standard bearers, a new wave of men’s shops have cropped up around the world – from The Armoury in Hong Kong, to the new Drake’s shop in London, to Sid Mashburn in Atlanta, and the list goes on and on - to meet the rising demand for purveyors of goods and services that appeal to those who appreciate classic men’s style. For that, at least, we can only hope Amos Sulka is smiling somewhere.

Words by Dan Flores
Photos by A.R.E. Design Awards

Tied And Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a day bow tie must be in want of a wife – and that he is unlikely to get one. Maybe that is overstating the case but, in a recent post by Will, the mere mention of wearing a day bow tie, provoked a torrent of Jeevesian protest from some readers; one of whom even suggests that those men who wear day bow ties are exhibiting a personality disorder. Mixed opinions also often rage over the informal ‘cravat’ or ‘ascot’ worn inside the shirt collar and this seems, by some, to have become associated with the image of either a crusty, retired colonel or the bounder, the rotter, the stinker, the ‘absolute shower’, the cad. But let us look at the facts.

Until the early seventeenth century, ruffs, lace jabots, and bands constituted the usual neckwear for men. Then, in 1635, Parisians spotted Croatian soldiers in Paris wearing neck-cloths and a gathering fashion was born which, corrupted in pronunciation, became ‘cravat’. Charles II’s return from his exile in France, after the English Civil War, and his restoration to the British throne in 1660, brought the cravat across the Channel, where it gradually replaced the lace jabot at Court and then in general wear. From old pictures, the early cravats seem to have been tied in a similar way to a modern informal cravat, with a simple folding of right over left and bringing the right, up through, and over. Anyway, it’s much older than the ‘four-in-hand’ knot which is the most common knot for what is regarded now as a standard, straight day tie, deriving from its popularity with the Four-in-Hand carriage club in the nineteenth century. The earliest ties of this kind are, these days, called ‘scrunchies’ and lack much body by way of interlining or folds of material. Shirt-makers Washington Tremlett claim that they gave the world the prototype for the crisp, modern, straight day tie in a design for an unusual evening tie which they made for an American called Wright in 1892.

However, a hundred years before that event, the Bucks and Beaux of the top drawer had devised many different knots for the cravat, which was worn day and evening, and Brummell, aided and abetted by his valet Robinson, famously went to excruciating lengths to achieve a proper degree of apparent negligence in the accomplishment of his cravat. Interestingly, it is still true that no tie should appear too neat and symmetrical. Several of the Georgian knots resulted in a tie which closely resembles a modern bow tie and this persisted through the nineteenth century, along with the stock, which became shortened into a day tie but retaining the knot and folds of the stock. The hunting stock is slightly different in that it is passes twice around the neck and one end threads through the neckband but the beginning of the usual modern knot for the stock begins like a standard bow tie knot (although a lazy alternative is the informal cravat fold-over). Lord Queensbury, before he brought his prey to book, wore a stock to his own trial for allegedly uttering criminal libel against Oscar Wilde and, when James Bond first meets Francisco Scaramanga in the novel called The Man With The Golden Gun, Scaramanga is wearing a stock with a lounge suit, which Bond thinks should have appeared theatrical but, because of the man’s impressive presence, it did not. There’s a lot in that and it is probably not a good idea to wear anything that is as unusual as a stock (or even a day bow tie) unless you are sure of yourself.

King George V and Sir Rider Haggard sometimes wore another alternative over their collars: a neckerchief, and this was secured by threading the ends through a ring.

Famous successful twentieth century proponents of the day bow tie included: Winston Churchill, Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant, Ian Fleming, Robin Day and Maurice Chevalier; whereas the most famous British cravat men are probably the comedy actors Terry-Thomas and Leslie Phillips – luckier examples, by the sound of things, than Thurston Howell III! Still, I see no reason to be intimidated in our choice of styles of clothes by the fear of association with unfortunate types who happen to favour them.

The moral of it all is that a well-chosen bow tie or cravat (ascot) can work perfectly well, if it is worn with ease.

Don’t be tied by prejudice.

Words and photo by Nicholas Storey

Indulgent Grooming

Of all of the aspects of a man's grooming there is only one that offers the potential for a significant upgrade in terms of the pleasure produced by the process itself, and that is wet shaving done right. The combination of warm water, soft brush, clean shave and wonderful fresh facial sensation post-shave is a delight every morning.

My own preferences for wet shaving include one of Simpson's Chubby shaving brushes, one of my Best Shaving Scuttles (that is the new ivory color in the photo) for building warm lather and D. R. Harris' Arlington Shaving Cream Pre-Shave Lotion and After Shave Milk. But there is no need to take my word for it - see for yourself.

A Touch Of Carelessness

One of the best images of the young Ralph Lauren, and I understand that he was a very well dressed man, has him arriving for a trunk show in a navy pin striped suit with a pair of black velvet slippers on his feet. Another, more recent photo, this one of Alan Flusser, shows him standing be-slippered with the Churchwell brothers. Such are the modern precedents of suede and/or velvet house shoes.

I have grown increasingly fond of the things myself (I am wearing a dark green pair trimmed with black to dinner this evening, where they will have a gravitas comparable to black pumps). Summer is after all the time for footwear that would never stand the puddles of winter, and I live in dress slip-ons, Sloops, drivers, espadrilles and house shoes, alternating about a dozen pair. And though some men might worry that the house shoe bows might be perceived as a little effeminate I will remind them that they are considerably more discreet than the bow on a pair of opera pumps and those were worn by quite a few dandies whose honor would require pistols at dawn should a comment have been made about the masculinity of themselves or their footwear.

In my opinion, the house shoe is another way of expressing the carelessness that is the best of men's dress.

Back To Fall

It is rather sudden but we are just about back to Fall, the adult equivalent of back to school, and that will mean for me anyway a change from the slipons shoes of summer to the laces and buckles of the new season. Fall is my favorite time of the year - the worst thing about it will be that the young women of New York will stop wearing their summer dresses and we shall all be the poorer for that.

I will rather hate to stop wearing the pigskin slipons in the photos and their ilk, though their season still has some months to run. On the other hand it is time to look forward to cashmere knitwear and flannel trousers, tweed jackets and madder neckties, covert coats and homburg hats. Which reminds me to write Stephen Temkin and order a midnight blue lord's hat, to be ready not terribly long after fall arrives.

Speaking of women and shoes, which we were in a way, a friend reminded me of Caroline Groves, the English lady who makes bespoke women's shoes. If you have not seen her work, her online gallery is well worth a look. The feathered models will not be wearable on the street when fall does arrive, however they seem to me to be the type of things that a woman would carry in a bag and don when she got where she was going anyway.

Photos by Rose Callahan

White Collars and Cuffs

White shirt collars and cuffs have traditionally been associated with formal day wear, but in my opinion that is not the only time to wear them. With a patterned or colored shirt body, they bridge the gap between day and evening and that makes them a good choice for events with early curtains that leave no time for dinner let alone a change of clothes.

Personally I prefer white collared shirts to have link or turnback cuffs that are meant to be worn with cuff links. There are after all no button cuffed shirts in the formal repertoire. The collar should not be overly spread either or it will not work with a bow tie (evening being the one type of occasion where the bow should never raise an eyebrow).

In the photograph, a shirt with white collar and cuffs, antique jade cuff links, Albert Thurston barathea braces and a red satin bow tie with white spots.

Color In Shoes

Men's shoes (and boots) were black for at least 2,000 years. The Roman senators wore them. Then, sometime after World War II, an Italian man whose name escapes me dedicated himself to popularizing brown, and he was followed by various Parisians who made shoes in every hue. Many of those were not fit for public consumption, but the fact remains that color in shoes is with us to stay. Indeed, George Glasgow of G. J. Cleverley, who was kind enough to share today's photos of a newly made pair of definitely non-black de Rede slip-ons, tells me that they sold not a single pair of bespoke black in America outside of New York City last year.

Color in shoes is another outgrowth of the breakdown (or liberalization if you must) of the old London rules of dress and, traditionalist that I am, it is difficult for me to wrap my mind around every possibility. All shades of brown are fine of course, as are cream and dark red. But though I would not hold it against you I am not quite ready to adopt midnight blue or dark green for my own wardrobe. As for purple or bright yellow, they are entirely beyond the pale. Except I guess for drivers and casual shoes of that ilk.

Photos by John Park

A Suitable Wardrobe Visits Leffot

Filmmaker Andrew Yamato captures the flavor of last month's visit to Leffot on Christopher Street in New York City, where Steven Taffel operates what is in my opinion America's best independent shoe store.

Video: Andrew Yamato

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Thanks to a look at a recent American GQ while waiting for a haircut, I have discovered a previously undiagnosed affliction I can only refer to as Sprezzatourette’s, the near-constant utterance and misuse of the word “sprezzatura." Patient Zero was the writer of an article about Scott Schuman, otherwise known as The Sartorialist, Condé Nast’s pet photographer of people wearing colorful or shiny things. No Microsoft Word thesaurus can synonymize the concept of using a term from Baldessare Castiglione’s Book of the Courtier as an excuse to dress like a clown, so the contagion is well and truly upon us, both in word and in deed: self-styled journalists and dandies bandy about the word “sprezzatura” and deliberately dress garishly – yet somehow interchangeably -- under the guise of aspiring to sprezzatura. Fantasy life imitates fantasy art as Internet Gentlemen* ape selective photoreporting from the street.

*Working definition: anyone else on the Internet whose dress sense you disagree with. Try it out and see!

Sprezzatura, as described by Castiglione, and as used in art history, the only discipline where I’d encountered it prior to the Sprezzatourette’s outbreak, was an art of studied nonchalance. What this connoted was a delicate balance between giving the impression of both effortlessness and control in both dress and, particularly in painting, pose. This required art in the sense not only of taste and skill but of artifice, projecting this image of unself-conscious control despite the effort needed to achieve it and the actual mental, social and political health of the subject. Subjects could achieve nonchalance in question through a sort of artful disarray in details of their dressing. And, of course, in an ease in their pose, indicating their control of their surroundings. After all, someone who got every piece of his façade too perfect was clearly trying too hard and betraying his insecurity.

It appears that Sprezzatourette’s sufferers pathologically dwell on the idea of artful disarray, symptomized by mannered, slightly too-trim outfits (the so-called tailored look) featuring multitudes of different patterns, accented by billowing pocket squares, ideally in yet another pattern. And yet I write this as someone who loves pattern and color, lovely checks and tweeds in all of their sonorous variety, the entire arcana of classic cloth types, cheviots and saxonies, woolen and worsted flannels, the silly imagery and esotericism of pattern names like houndstooth, puppytooth, tick weave (not as a result of forgetting to put Frontline on the previous two), Glen Urquhart… and glorious color. I’ve attempted to write this for a while but realized I was coming across as some sort of prescriptive curmudgeon, the sort of literalist who actually believes the untruism that being well-dressed is to be unremarkable in dress. Rather, anyone who knows me knows that I don’t shy away from the eccentric or flamboyant, and it is with regret that I will see the pendulum of fashion swing away from the renaissance of color and pattern as inevitably it becomes a cliché and cliché leads to satire. Already, Aziz Ansari’s character on Parks and Recreation has a moving box full of pocket squares and calls them that.

Of course, reports of this epidemic’s penetration are as overblown as those of bird flu several years ago. The internet and other media have aggregated the images of and raised the profiles of the Sprezzatourists. However, for better or for worse, our age has been defined, as always, by its most visible outliers. What defines a period is what stands out: not necessarily what was actually worn by most, but the most extreme exaggerations of a time. Even in their 1930s golden age, those totems Apparel Arts and Esquire were not mirrors of their time. Even apart from the obvious obstacles to leading the vividly attired, globetrotting gentleman of leisure existence those magazines depicted (worldwide economic depression and the rise of fascism), readers should bear in mind the 1935 New Yorker cartoon posted on one clothing forum showing a swanky party with, in foreground, a fellow in a garish windowpane jacket, what appear to be the peaks of a no doubt splashy pocket square spilling out, large spot neckerchief, and checked trousers, as behind him one guest whispers to another, “They say he reads Esquire. So no doubt one day the Sartorialist’s repertoire of shop assistants, skinny girls and creepy old Italian men will be looked to as the reference for the mid- to late-Noughties, and future dandies will consult his archives for inspiration the same way Will and I flip through our Italian-issued monographs and reprints of the series.

Instead, where today’s claimants to sprezzatura miss the mark, in my own opinion, is the self-consciousness of their cacophony. While it’s obvious that taking pictures of oneself and posting them to the internet defeats claims to nonchalance, those Sprezzatourists solicited by the Sartorialist (leaving aside the unnaturalness of his selection pool) too often appear to ignore Castiglione’s dictum that “obvious effort is the antithesis of grace.” The pursuit of intentional loudness undermines pretentions to nonchalance or control, and despite their flamboyance, victims of Sprezzatourette’s syndrome seem to fall into a mannered sameness that is less Hyacinthe Rigaud than Sledge Hammer.

Yes, Sledge Hammer (released in France under the name Mr Gun, which I find hilarious), the rogue cop deftly played by David Rasche with equal parts clipped Clint-Eastwood-as-Dirty-Harry simmer and Mel Gibson’s mad-eyed Murtaugh-baiting mugging. It’s no accident the television show Sledge Hammer! debuted at about the same time as the movie Die Hard, which took the shirt and the jacket off of the hero and put them on the villain. Like that loose cannon Dirty Harry, Sledge was in control, but just barely, with completely misplaced trigger-happy nonchalance as he entreated us, an entreaty no less clear and no less dramatically ironic than those of today’s Sprezzatourists asking us to subscribe to their illusion of nonchalance, to “Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” right before shooting out our TVs.

In order to create the outfits for this legendarily badly dressed detective, the wardrobe lady got a bunch of the most loudly patterned vintage sportcoats and ties, and clashing shirts, threw them all up in the air and matched them up where they landed. The creator of Sledge Hammer!, Alan Spencer, said recently that he never imagined that there would come a time when his caricatural creation could be a viable candidate for political office. I am sure he never imagined he would feature in a style blog either.

-Words by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

Outrageously Comfortable

Complementing my suede house shoes on the ASW store are new espresso, mid-brown and black calf models. They are outrageously comfortable so you will want several pair because you will be wearing them every day on the weekend, indoors, as drivers, on long flights or (gently) on the street. Their thin leather soles can take it.

Next up, leopard and pony skin patterned versions. In case calf and suede are not enough.

Tie Too Long?

There are two principal reasons to purchase bespoke neckties, those being the construction and the length.

The reason to get the length right is that, when correctly tied, the triangle at the bottom of a tie's front blade should hang approximately within the top and the bottom of the trouser waistband, as the imperfectly executed tie in the first photo is not quite doing. Like any other bespoke however, bespoke neckties take time and very generally cost 50-100% more than ready to wear ties, making them a special occasion purchase for many men. And unless a man is very lucky, most ready to wear neckties will be a couple of inches too long or too short for him.

Taller guys of course do not usually have too much of a problem. A tie that is a couple of inches too short can simply be tied with a shorter rear blade and all is well. It when the tie is too long that things get more complicated.

There are two ways to adjust tie length: the type of knot and the length of the rear blade. As a firm believer in the asymmetrical character of the four in hand, there are only a few alternative knots that makes much of a difference to the tie's length, and the most common of them is to wrap the front blade around the knot an extra time as has been done in the top photo. This produce a somewhat larger but still proportionate knot and uses about two inches of excess length.

The other way to adjust length is used quite often in England and that is to tie the rear blade longer than the front, and then hide the extra silk inside the trouser waistband.  Or, if the rear blade is only an inch or less longer than the front, it can be worn untucked as many Italian males do to show their sprezzatura.

Tucking the read blade may crease it horizontally, but this should not be a problem as the crease will be hidden by the front blade of the tie.

Whatever you do, please do not adjust your tie length by tieing a Windsor or a half Windsor. They took his name in vain but the Duke never approved.

Spring Cashmere

Entire families in Hawick Scotland have made their living from cashmere for generations. It is a dying art, for knitting in Scotland is much more expensive than performing the same task in lower cost countries. Companies like John Laing have endeavored to move up-market in order to command the prices they need to stay in business. The best of the Scots use only the finest cashmere, and the result is better color, better construction and a hand that is equalled only by one or two Italian labels. The Asian competition will eventually learn, but today it does not even come close.

Cashmere is knitted to fill orders placed a season in advance, so at the MRket menswear show last month Laing was showing products for February, 2013. The items shown are all one-off samples that may never be produced again. Laing resellers choose from a set of available patterns and any of 165 colors.

Spring cashmeres are knitted in brighter colors than those used for autumn, and eight stitches per inch instead of the autumnal twelve produces a garment that is a third lighter. Single ply eight gauge knitwear is still too heavy to wear in the heat of a summer day, but will provide good service in cool spring and late fall. And it is beautiful stuff.

Photos: Rose Callahan

Apologies that updates have been sporadic lately. I usually post in the early morning from home, and my cable/internet supplier has had a number of outages recently, including one that has lasted for two days.