Author Archives: Peter Zottolo

About Peter Zottolo

Peter works in construction, but has an extensive collection of custom suits which he gets so that he can wear suits on the weekend. Even though he lives in San Francisco, he has never used the word "impact" as a verb. He writes about classic menswear and is one fedora away from being a complete dork.

How Much Does a Quality Suit Cost?

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How Much Does Quality Cost?
In one form or another, this question turns up every couple of days on the forum: “I’m looking for a quality suit/shirt/shoe/pair of underwear.  How much should I spend?” Before answering this question, it’s best to specify what “quality” is. Quality is not fit; nor is it style.  Assuming you have a department store full of identical suits, all cut in the same shape and designed with the same details, how do you identify and measure quality? There are two aspects to consider: what the garment is made of, and how it’s put together.  In other words, material and method.  Let’s start with material.
MATERIAL
Not all fabrics are created equal.  Cheap wool uses short, brittle fibers, woven just tightly enough to hold everything together.  The resulting fabric will have the body of tissue paper, wrinkle like wax paper, and pill uncontrollably.  On the other hand, some companies approach weaving like a science.  All sheep produce wool, but some sheep produce better wool.  Most wool is bulky and scratchy, but Merino sheep’s wool, for example, contain fibers with some of the smallest diameters – 24 microns and below – which not only makes it soft, but allows it to bend and stretch without breaking and pilling like thicker fibers. 
Short fibers are cheap to make, but they fray and separate easily.  Longer fibers are prized for greater strength and resiliency, but cost more to manufacture.  Some weavers twist two or more fibers together, which gives the fabric greater spring, drape, and wrinkle resistance.  Others comb short woolen fibers to create flannel, a fabric of unparalleled softness and warmth.  All of these qualities require additional steps and processes that can be useful, desirable, or both.  Regardless of whether or not you are willing to pay the price for them, they undeniably add to the excellence of a particular material.
METHOD
Whereas the measurement of quality material is objectively unequivocal – no one wants to wear a flimsy, scratchy, pilly suit – quality of method is not so distinct, at least not anymore.  Time was, if you wanted a suit to last, it was made by hand, since the clumsy, brutish contraptions of yore couldn’t compete with the finer, more dexterous needlework of a skilled tailor.  Nowadays, some parts of the suit not only can be machine-made, they are all they better for it, pieced together with elaborate stitches that are stronger and more uniform that any human hand, and in a fraction of the time.

What about the method can be quantified?  For one, the way a jacket is canvassed, or lined.  Jackets are canvassed because one of the downsides of having a quality fabric that springs back to shape and lays flat is that it often won’t drape smoothly over your shoulders, chest and torso without help.  To put it another way, it’s difficult to mold a two-dimensional fabric into a three-dimensional form.  Lining the jacket (between the outer fabric you see and the interior of the jacket) with a more malleable material gives it structure, and allows the jacket to be shaped to follow more corporeal contours, and to eventually take on your own body’s silhouette.  Whether you have the frame of Albert Beckles or Albert Jackson, a properly-cut canvassed jacket fits and flatters the wearer in comfortable, masculine elegance.

There are several methods of canvassing, the best of which is known as full-canvassing. This involves sewing the interlining (traditionally horsehair blended with other natural fibers, but can also be different fabrics), starting at the top of the shoulder and extending down the front to the bottom of the jacket.  This provides all the benefits mentioned above, but as it is time-consuming (and often done by hand) it adds substantially to the price tag.

how much does a quality suit cost styleforum suit canvassing styleforum what is suit canvas styleforum

Left to right: haircloth, wrapped hair cloth, wool canvas, and fusible interlining

A more economical method is fusing, or gluing, an interlining to the shell of the jacket.  This greatly decreases production time, but at a cost – the resulting stiffness of the glue and interlining can leave a jacket looking like a lifeless mannequin, and in some cases the glue can actually deteriorate (due to cleaning and pressing) and the interlining will detach from the suit in spots, causing the fabric to ripple and bubble. 
Half-canvassed suits offer a compromise of cost and quality: interlining is sewn to the jacket in the top half, and fused in the rest.  This helps reduce overall costs while providing an acceptable measure of shape.  If you’d like to read more details about the differences between these processes, Styleforum member and
tailoring guru Jeffery Diduch wrote a fantastic article about the various methods of canvassing here.
WHAT DO BRANDS OFFER?
Now we can start to answer the question posed at the beginning: how much does quality cost? Want the the answer? Expect to at pay least $700 (full retail, excluding sales) for a fully-canvassed suit cut with decent fabric. Why, then, do some suits cost ten times that? 

@SeamasterLux and @Dirnelli, both members of Styleforum who have their own blogs and contribute to Parisian Gentleman, have done a phenomenal amount of research that far exceeds anything I could ever attempt.  Fortunately for us, they’ve created a thread that lists an exhaustive Rolodex of various ready-to-wear makers and compares their relative quality (objective), style (subjective), and handwork (soul).  Here are a few highlights, along with a few of my own suggestions, listed in order of cost.

$500-$1000
TM Lewin
Suitsupply
Boggi
Hickey Freeman
Ring
Brooks Brothers
$1000-$1500
Polo Ralph Lauren
Boglioli
Hackett
Lardini
$1500-$2000
Paul Stuart
Caruso (maker of many ‘designer’ lines)
Canali
Corneliani (maker of many ‘designer’ lines)
Sartoria Formosa (their RTW is made to bespoke standards)
$2500 and up
Ralph Lauren Purple Lapel
Zegna
Borrelli
Belvest (maker of many ‘designer’ lines)
Brioni
Isaia
Oxxford
Gucci/Tom Ford
Kiton
Attolini

Whereas the cost of fabric and canvassing decidedly add to the quality of a suit, some may argue against the merits of style and handwork.  Frankly, the width of the lapel, shoulder treatment, and hand-padded collar contributes little to the longevity of a suit.  Styleforum member and Bay Area bud Derek of dieworkwear wrote some refreshingly honest thoughts on the subject on his blog.  After all, isn’t the way a suit fits most important?  Yes, but it’s only part of the answer.

A suit is not just another article of clothing.  A house may provide shelter, but four walls and a roof do not make a home.  For some, a well-made suit is all they require.  This austere choice is not without its advantages, and may be the only choice available.  If, however, your taste prefers it and budget allows it, do explore your options.  Make no mistake: the characteristic lapel roll of a particular maker may not add to a suit’s durability, but it does add something.  What is it you value?  Is it the fact that it was cut by a human?  Is the unique style and cut of the garment reflective of your own distinctive tastes?  Do you regard craftsmanship in high regard?  Does the manufacturer’s insistence on handwork reflect your own sensibilities?  Do you appreciate having a personal relationship with a tailor who can create a perfectly fitting garment that you yourself had a hand in designing?
If all you require is a suit that covers your body, go to a thrift store.  If you’re looking for something well-made, with a particular style, by hand, get ready to pay for all three.

Summer Fabrics for Staying Cool

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Summer finally arrived last week in San Francisco, but while the rest of the Bay is baking, the city peaked in the mid-70s, which means you can still wear a jacket without breaking a sweat.  Still, you’ll want to be comfortable, and thankfully there are certain fabrics that perform well when the mercury rises.  Here’s a quick rundown of good summer fabrics for staying cool.
Wool
The most versatile suiting fabric, wool can take you from the depths of winter to the height of summer and its crease-keeping and wrinkle-shedding qualities will help to ensure you look so fresh and so clean.  
One great summer option is Minnis’ Fresco, which is a high-twist open weave that allows more air to pass through, so you can still have your hot body but at least let off some steam.  This is one of my go-to fabrics, as Minnis makes various weights – up to 15/16 oz – that are suitable for a variety of temperatures, and the texture and color variegation makes it visually interesting.  Their 7/8 oz will keep you the coolest but some have reported that it can stretch and bag.  The middle of the road 9/10 oz is best for all but the hot hot heat, retaining a sharp crease and holding its shape all day long.  I have four suits in this fabric and it serves me up to the 80’s in San Francisco.  The fabric is a little on the scratchy side, but the recently released Fresco III bunch is supposed to be softer, if less shape-retaining.  Early reviews of the fabric can be found on the forum.
Minnis also used to offer Rangoon, a take on tropical wool.  Tropical wool is very smooth and extremely comfortable, but I find it wrinkles far too easy, and not in a nice way.  Rangoon is supposed to be drier and more wrinkle resistant, so if you value those qualities as I do, keep your eyes on the Buy & Sell section of the forum, as lengths of the discontinued fabric pop up from time to time.
best summer fabrics for staying cool styleforum cool summer fabrics styleforum warm weather suit fabrics styleforum

Minnis “Rangoon”

Holland & Sherry’s Crispaire is another one of the forum’s favorite choices.  Styleforum member @Kolecho says it falls between in between Fresco and tropical worsted in terms of porosity and smoothness.  It runs a little warmer but has many more patterns, including a few glen plaids.
@Kolecho also recommends wool/mohair blends, which many companies manufacture.  Mohair suits were often used in the past for summer or nighttime activities, as it gives off quite a bit off sheen and keeps a razor sharp crease.  However, its bulletproof qualities can leave one hot, and its tight weave doesn’t allow as much freedom of movement as wool.  A bit (30% or lower) of kid mohair (as opposed to the less expensive but scratchier, more brittle mohair) keeps you crisp and dry with little, if any, sheen, and the more flexible wool fabric keeps you comfortable.
Smith’s Finmeresco is a similar fabric to Minnis’ Fresco.  Whereas Minnis is 2-ply (meaning 2 strands of fabric are twisted together to make a single thread), Finmeresco offers 3-ply and 4-ply, which means it’s a bit more spongy, which some prefer to the crisper hand of the Minnis option.
best summer fabrics for staying cool styleforum cool summer fabrics styleforum warm weather suit fabrics styleforum

@emptyM in his Finmeresco blazer

Some companies offer wool fabrics in a panama weave, which is kind of an open basketweave.  These share similar qualities to tropical wool but with a bit of texture.  Wrinkle resistance is typical for regular wool, but if you want something in wool that’s a little less “suit-y” for a sport coat, almost all makers have lightweight 8 oz fabrics in a hopsack or basketweave. These fabrics are perfect for a summer blazer in navy or lighter blue. Look for a loose weave and wonderful texture to help keep you cool and casual.  
Other suiting options: Scabal Condor, London Lounge Brisa, Rubinacci London House Hopsack 
Linen 
Ounce for ounce, linen doesn’t hold a candle to the functional qualities of wool.  It is less durable, less elastic, less absorbent, and doesn’t keep its shape longer than a few seconds.  Still, nothing says summer quite like linen.  The slubbiness of linen gives it undeniable aesthetic appeal, and the slightly bumpy weave helps keep the fabric away from your skin, helping to keep you cool.
 Whereas the lighter stuff is too flimsy and sloppy for suiting, if you can stand the heavier stuff, or your summers hover in the low 70s, you want a good, hearty linen, starting at 12 oz and above.  W. Bill of Harrisons makes a 14oz linen that might sound insensible, but some can tolerate it even in the brutal New England summer.  The heavier weights are better at keeping their shape, allow for better drape, and don’t wrinkle as much as rumple.  The net result is slightly disheveled yet looks all the better for it, the sartorial equivalent of bedhead.  
best summer fabrics for staying cool styleforum cool summer fabrics styleforum warm weather suit fabrics styleforum

@Voxsartoria in a 12oz W. Bill linen suit

Classic linen colors are tan and navy, but if you feel like something different, try a tobacco brown; it’s surprisingly versatile. Cream and white are also options, but only if you resign yourself to spots and Colonel Sanders cat calls. Glen plaids look great as well.
Suiting options: W Bill, Cacciopoli, Drapers, Solbiati
Cotton 
Dylan from Dylan and Son knows that sometimes you just have to resign yourself to the heat. “In Singapore, it can get so hot and humid, shape and drape is secondary to comfort. I wear 9oz cotton trousers a lot.” Then there’s Manton, currently putting out fires in Washington, who is more intolerant than anyone of the heat, who recommends 6/7oz cotton to cope with summer’s misery. “It wrinkles,” he admits, “but so what.”  This is what you reach for when form takes a back seat to function. 
Cotton suits look great in any shade of tan. Perhaps more so than linen, cotton fabric has practically no give, so consider a slightly looser fit, especially the shoulders, chest, and thighs. Also, stick to light colors: cotton fades as it wears, and this is even more apparent on darker colors. 
Want to get really seasonal?  Try seersucker.  While verging on anachronistic, the stuff was actually created relatively recently to beat the heat in New Orleans.  Like any other fabric it can look fresh and stylish when everything fits, but for a more modern take, try a seersucker in tonal blue.
Blends 
Of these there are many.  I have a featherweight sport coat in a Cacciopoli silk/wool/linen blend that wrinkles ever so slightly.  Be aware that they will never be as cool as those weaves that are specifically woven to be porous, nor never as wrinkle-resistant and those meant to keep a sharp crease.  In all but the most extreme conditions, however, they can serve as a light alternative that combine the best properties of each fabric.
 

What My Father Taught Me About Clothing

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My father had a routine before every Memorial.  An hour or two before leaving, he’d take out a shoebox and begin layering newspapers on the table.  Out of the shoebox came two tins of Kiwi shoe wax, a brush, and an old shirt.  After daubing a bit of black on a clean spot on the shirt, he’d swirl the wax on the leather while the shoe sat on the newspapers.  After a few minutes, he’d take the other shoe and repeat the process on the other shoe.  Returning to the first, he’d brush it until it reached a dull shine, then on to the second, and finish by grabbing the shirt with his hands on both ends and buff the toe and vamp to a high gloss.

“At least once a year,” he proclaimed, “you should shine your shoes.”

To his credit, my father never shared my enthusiasm for menswear.  He didn’t care who made his suit, what kind of leather his shoes were, or if his shirt was Sea Island cotton; provenance didn’t concern him.  What did matter, as evidenced by virtually every memory I have of my father in a suit over the years, was simplicity and propriety.

He always wore a white shirt.  In later years he ventured into blues and light greys, but they were always solid.  Ties were never too skinny or fat, trousers never too narrow or wide, jackets never too short or long. Mostly, the ties were solid silk twill. Once, I found a black velvet tie with yellow flowers in his closet that I had never seen him wear.  For a split second I had a vision of my dad as one of All The Young Dudes on Barnaby Street in Cuban heels and bellbottoms.  When I asked him about it, he shrugged indifferently.

“I think I wore that once, but it wasn’t me.  You can have it.”

No, velvet was not my dad.  Neither were bellbottoms, Cuban heels, leisure suits, polyester prints, beads, or anything else that ever pushed the envelope.  Even at his most rebellious spell as a teenager, his craziest outfits were comprised of Levi’s 501s and sweatshirts or Ocean Pacific shorts and t-shirts, which he still wears today.  Footwear was a pair of dress shoes, a pair of work boots, and flip flops.  That’s it.  His closet was lean, practical, basic.

Every year as we grew my parents would take us shopping to get new jeans, so when the faded jeans fad arrived, we felt out of style.  My dad’s jeans, though, looked just like them.  I remember asking him how he got them like that – were they stonewashed?  Acid washed?  Blasted?

“I just wear them and wash them,” he replied.  The concept of wearing something for years is understandably foreign to a growing child, but now that I think about it, those jeans were probably as old as I was at the time.  In fact, I don’t remember my father ever buying new jeans.  He’d just wear what he had until it fell apart.

During my late teens I went through a skater phase, when Jive ruled the world and pants had leg openings big enough to cover your suede Pumas.  At this point my dad stopped telling me what to wear, but he did warn me:  “One of these days,” he’d say, “when you dress normal again, you’re going to look back and laugh.”

I can truthfully say that day has come.

Today, I have a shoebox of my own, and shine my shoes before every Memorial. As it turns out, I now wear jeans and flannels to work like my father did. In fact, a large part of my closet reflects what my father taught me about clothing.  While it’s true that the sheer volume of clothes I have could dress an entire football team, the players would all look pretty much the same: properly conventional.

My dad always had a solid tie in his closet, something that I find myself reaching for probably more often than I should.  Almost all of my shirts are plain, white or blue, with one yellow and one pink for when it’s sunny and I feel audacious.  The striped shirts I do have are also blue.  Most of my suits are solid colors, and my sport coats are all in a varying shade of brown.  None of my dress clothes are terribly exciting.  I have only one pair of what might be considered “nice” jeans, but everything else is years old, missing buttons, starting to get holes, or already patched.

If my dad were to look in my closet, he’d shake his head at the size of it.  He’d laugh when I showed him the difference between the collar roll of an unlined Brooks Brothers oxford cloth shirt and an Italian-made one.  He’d shrug in indifference at the clean, taped seams inside a bespoke jacket, or the buttoned cuffs of a locally-made trouser.  He’s just a no-fuss kind of guy, and he’d probably think my interest borders on the obsessive.  But I’d wager he’d wear everything in my closet, not realizing how much it mirrors his.

At least I’d like to think so.  I should ask him.what my father taught me about clothing styleforum dad style styleforum

A Guide to How Trousers Should Fit

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Embdeddded photos: Peter Zottolo
All slideshow photos: Dylan & Son
After last week’s article, I received a couple PMs, DMs, and emails from various people asking how trousers should fit.  The short answer is that they should lay straight down and fit comfortably. The long answer is, well, longer. Getting trousers to fit correctly is not simply a question of making them comfortable.  Sweats are comfortable.  So is spandex.  When cut correctly, trousers can feel just as cozy, but swathe you in elegance that sweatpants will never have. Meaning you can actually leave the house in trousers.
Let’s start with the bottom and work our way up:
1) The width of the leg opening should cover about 1/2 – 3/4 of your shoe, more or less
Varying too much either way can make your foot either stick out like a ski, or be completely engulfed and unseen. The length of your trousers should be just enough to kiss the top of your shoe in the front and hit the middle of your shoe’s heel in the back.  Of course, this will vary from shoe to shoe.  Chukkas, oxfords, or heavy boots, being more substantial with a heavy sole, are vertically higher and cause the front of the pants to fold, or break.  Streamlined oxfords or loafers sit a bit lower.  Personally I like to have my trouser legs hit the top of my loafers with no break, meaning the front of the trousers stop right where they hit the vamp.  This way, heavier shoes have just a just a shiver of a break.  The crease should fall straight down and bisect the shoe in the front.  
2) The trouser should not bunch at your calves
This is extremely difficult with slim trousers, but can be addressed with bespoke.  The trouser maker will either cut or iron the trouser following the natural curve and stance of the wearer.  This allows the line to fall, curved yet unbroken, down the back of your leg.  Having your pants constantly grabbing your calves – or worse, cupping under your seat – is almost sure to happen if they’re too tight.  This in and of itself is reason enough to either widen your trousers or go bespoke.
3) Your trousers’ thighs shouldn’t be so tight as to flatten the crease
If you’re trying on a pair of trousers and notice this is the case, I’d suggest sizing up and taking in the waist.  If sending in measurements for made-to-measure, write down the width of your thigh and add at least 2 inches.  Some companies are still trying to squeeze men into sausage casings, so I’d recommend erring on the side of caution and going roomy – you can always have them slimmed down.
4) Pay attention to the seat and rise
A) If your seat and hips are too tight, you won’t have the ability to move freely and your pockets will gape.  Too loose, and you’ll end up looking like you’re hiding a diaper.  A good rule of thumb is that you should be able to put your hands in your pockets easily.  If you can’t – loosen up, bro.  Additionally, the front and back rise will ensure the pants hang properly.  If the front rise is too short, you run the risk of moose knuckle; too long and the pants will start to have horizontal folds.  If the back rise is too long, the fabric might start to bunch under your seat; too short and it’ll start to separate your cheeks.  
B) The length of your rise should be high enough so that the top of the trousers sit at your natural waist, which is right around your navel.  The low rise trend is thankfully in its death throes; more and more are wearing trousers at their proper waist and doing so stylishly.  Doing so lengthens the leg, makes movement easier, and when worn with a buttoned jacket, covers your shirt and provides a seamless transition of fabric from top to bottom.  Just don’t go too much farther north than your belly button or you risk Urkel cosplay.
5) Be realistic about waist size
As far as the waist goes, I’m realistic.  I love it when bespoke trousers fit perfectly with no belt loops or braces, but overindulgence does happen, and you’ll be thankful for an extra inch or two.  When doing so, some opt for belt loops, but I much prefer having brace buttons and side pull tabs put in.  When wearing trousers with a suit, having the trousers hang from your shoulders allows them to fall and drape beautifully, in a straight line (braces generally attach and sit directly above your feet).  Plus, cinching your waist with a belt can be uncomfortable, and adjusting it after you eat can be more trouble than its worth.  However, if you’re wearing trousers without a jacket, braces can seem a little flashy.  One option is button tabs, but they can be a bit fussy.  Pull tabs are the perfect way to fine-tune the waist of your trousers.  Mine are halfway between the waist and leg on the seam; it binds a little less than having them solely on the waist.
This is admittedly quite a bit to digest, but can easily be seen and appreciated in pictures.  A well-fitting trouser is a sight to behold.  Some of the best examples I’ve seen online are from Dylan & Son, a tailoring house in Singapore, examples of whose work can be seen in the slideshow below.  Their Instagram feed showcases some amazing trousers, not just ones they made for themselves but for various customers with less-than-ideal proportions, bowl legged stances, and everything in between.  Explanations and descriptions can be found on some posts, giving a glimpse into the art and science of clothing the anatomy.

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Bespoke Trousers at Tailor’s Keep

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It all started a little over a year ago: my first pair of bespoke trousers.
Most people think of suits, or at least a jacket, when it comes to bespoke clothing. Trousers are just there, like the fries that accompany your Niman Ranch burger at Causwell’s. Good, but nothing you’d order on their own. 
Such thinking couldn’t be farther from the truth. Granted, the jacket is probably the first thing noticed, but if the accompanying trousers are garbage, the whole outfit suffers. You’ve seen it before: hem too long or too short, gaping pockets at the hips, slim legs that grab the calves, excess folds at the crotch, a droopy seat. We’ve all experienced it, but are not necessarily condemned to it. 
This is where bespoke trousers come in. The thing is, to nail the fit, multiple fittings are required until everything is just right. Either you spend a week or two near a tailoring house, use a traveling tailor who comes twice a year, or – if you’re fortunate – use a local guy.  I’ve had the opportunity to have fantastic trousers made for me in Sicily, but I’m not always there. Ideally you’d have a local tailor who can make a proper pair, but finding one can be next to impossible. However, if you’re in San Francisco, you do have a local option I wholeheartedly recommend: Tailors’ Keep. 
Located across the street from the world-famous Transamerica Pyramid, on the border of North Beach and the Financial District, Ryan Devens, the co-founder of Tailors’ Keep, runs the show.  Inside is an uncluttered haven of gentlemanly items: a distressed leather couch, paintings from local artists, various libations, and many books of fabrics.  Won’t you won’t see are the workers – they are in a separate shop upstairs.  “It’s great to have the shop onsite,” Ryan says.  “It’s a magical escape, a hidden gem, with music always playing, smiles always on faces, and hands always moving.  There we can make bespoke clothing, or fix up ready-to-wear and vintage pieces.  There is always a special project at some stage in its process – recutting a pair of old trousers for a new and updated fit, or building a new pair of pants from scratch.”
I wish I could say Tailors’ Keep has a house style, but they don’t. This is not to say they aren’t capable; on the contrary, Ryan appreciates all styles, and when I told him I wanted a classic, flat front, slightly slim trouser with a higher rise, he simply nodded, “Yes, we can absolutely do that.”  A few months and fittings later, and the trousers were finished:  14oz Fox Bros oatmeal flannel from No Man Walks Alone, cut into a classically slim pair of trousers, with off-seam hand-tacked besom pockets, button cuffs, and a perfect fit.
The last particular is a particular that cannot be overemphasized.  Sure, you can have a pair of trousers fatto a mano from a tailor whose family has been doing it for generations, complete with hand stitched and attached curtain waistband, pick stitching down the legs, and extended waist tab, but all that means nothing if they don’t fit.  
 Ryan’ crew can do all the hand stitched details you want, but will make sure the trousers fit.  “Fit is everything, we pride ourselves on that,” he says.  “I’d rather lose money than have an unhappy customer who isn’t satisfied what what we give them.”  Such stock in one’s reputation is a rare commodity these days, but Ryan has always carried through on his word.  My first pair took no less than four fittings to get the back and front rise just right.  For me, this meant having an unbroken line from my seat all the way down to my shoe heel.  This is easy with looser fitting trousers, but if you want a slimmer fit, it’s near impossible – the back of the trousers will invariably grab your calves or bunch underneath your seat.   This is no easy task, as Ryan explains: 
“The process of making a pattern normally starts with seeing the client in a pair of trousers that he/she already owns and is decently happy with.  In some cases, I’ll take those trousers and make a few adjustments first, then have a second fitting with that specific pant and assess if that pattern is sufficient for starting a bespoke pattern or not.  The most significant measurement to a proper fitting trouser is indeed the rise – but also the relationship between the front and back rise.  These measurements are based on posture, preference, and the specific style in which the garment is being made – low-rise, mid-rise, high-rise, etcetera.  
 
“For example, if someone has a hips-forward posture, a different measurement will be applied for the front/back rise balance as opposed to someone who may have a high seat or hips-back posture.  This is necessary in order to alleviate the dreaded pocket-pulling effect, which is quite often seen on MTM pants too.  One rise for one client may not fit another client who is the exact same height and weight.  Being able to see these proportions and body-type relationships can greatly assist in creating a very accurate “first pass” on a bespoke pant.  
 
“Since our master tailor/cutter is in-house, I can focus on strictly fitting, consultation, and the measurement process, while he focuses on pattern-making.  I ideally would create a shell trouser that has no pocketing or working fly so that any front/back rise and hip adjustments can be made easily without too much re-work.   This is essential in preventing extensive rework and repatterining, especially in a majority-handsewn piece where time actually does equal money to the tailors involved.”
Such a process can take time, but as anyone who has had bespoke trousers will tell you, it is well worth the wait.  After Ryan and his crew dialed in the fit, I’ve had three subsequent trousers made straight to finish according to my specs.  If something’s not quite right, I don’t have to wait until the next time the tailor comes to town; Ryan pins the adjustments needed, and the final result is ready in a few weeks. Personally, I haven’t experienced anything but a remarkable end product.  If you want to have pants that sit well, lay flat, and hang straight, consider going bespoke.  You’ll be happy you did.

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How and When to Wear a Boutonniere

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Warmer months mean more time spent outside, where you can soak in the sun’s warm rays and take in the intoxicating perfume of spring’s flowers in full bloom.  While doing so, you may even be tempted to pluck one and place it in your jacket’s lapel, because why not?  Flowers are, after all, one of Mother Nature’s most beautiful creations and have been used since ancient times to celebrate everything from birth to one’s memory.

“Why” is not the subject of this article – “how” is, because the simplicity of wearing a flower in one’s lapel, a boutonniere, has been morphed into all-too-often complicated mess, with results both unpolished and overly precious.  In short, the process can be put into five words: put it in your buttonhole.  And then: put it through the loop.  Okay, so that’s ten.

There are more than a few things about menswear that may never get used but do serve a purpose, however remote.  One of those things is the boutonnière loop.  Found on some bespoke and higher-end suit jackets and sport coats, this little loop is just underneath the buttonhole on the underside of the lapel.  Here are a few examples:
Truth be told, the boutonniere never was a staple even in menswear’s heyday.  Hats and handkerchiefs were worn on the daily, but boutonnieres were saved primarily for special occasions.  Nowadays they are even more rare, but that doesn’t mean you can’t wear one.
Some may be inclined to pop a flower in his lapel whenever it suits their fancy.  After all, they muse, isn’t every day special?  Pollyannas and dandies may do as they wish; I won’t cast a pall over their rainbows and unicorns.  Special occasions, though, do exist, and are a perfect time to dress up your lapel. 
Weddings – Most men know that boutonnieres are for the groom and his entourage, but two things should be mentioned.  One, they are usually much too large, bordering on a bouquet, when single simple flower will do.  Two, they are not the only ones who can wear a boutonniere; the invited may wear one as well.  Pair it with a navy or grey suit, white shirt, appropriate wedding tie, black shoes and belt, and there’s your no-brainer outfit for the wedding season.  Deep in Esquire’s archives, this spread from 1948 lists appropriate wedding attire for both participants and guests.  Since not much has changed, use it as a starting point.
Here are two examples of men who wear a boutonniere correctly:
And here are examples to avoid:
Note that if you are attending a wedding as part of the groom’s entourage, you should graciously accept both the honor and whatever boutonniere you are given, even if it is not to your taste. 
Special religious/state ceremonies – if you are participating in or invited to one, a boutonniere may be an acceptable accessory.  For example, cloth poppies are often worn on Remembrance Day.  Just be sure to remember that certain colors may or may not be appropriate, depending on the affair .  Do your due diligence and research to choose one that doesn’t offend or attract attention away from the solemnity of the event.
Festive celebrations – a bit more leeway is allowed here, since the main point during such soirees is to have fun.  There are many opportunities throughout the year where flowers fit in fine, so look for them.  The Kentucky Derby immediately springs to mind, as the most exciting two minutes in sports is well-known for its blanket of roses given to the winner.  Not just observed in Louisville, Kentucky, pop-up celebrations are observed everywhere, thanks to televised satellite locations.  Just a few short years after the first Derby in Kentucky, Britain had one, and since then Derby Day has seen even the Queen participate with flowers in her hat.  Boutonnieres in this environment would blend in quite nicely and add to the spirit of the event.
Wearing a boutonniere is easy: grab a carnation or small rose, clip the stem a couple of inches, and slip it through your jacket’s lapel and loop.  Don’t have a loop?  Look online for video tutorials on how to make your own, or ask your tailor if he can (he’s probably better).  Some opt for a fake flower, but unless you wear the same flower multiple times during the year, you’re better off with what nature provided.  If you can spring to go to a social event, a real flower won’t break the bank.  Try this: next time you go out to a nice dinner with your partner, wear a boutonniere along with your suit and tie.  If he or she asks why, just say it’s a special occasion and smile.
 
Finally, take moment to watch, in real time, how simple it is to add a bit of floral inspiration to your outfit:
You’re welcome.

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The 4 Best Ways to Wear a Pocket Square

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Almost six months ago, I wrote How to Choose a Pocket Square, showcasing some of Styleforum’s member’s pochettes and how they used them to accessorize various coat and tie combinations.  Still, much like a child eagerly pores over paint brushes when first handed one, many have little to no clue what to do with them, and so impulsively stuff a blob of fabric into their pocket without regard to proper technique.  Granted, it’s not rocket science, but like all other components of classic men’s clothing, a bit of know-how can make a big difference. 
First, should you wear a pocket square?  Forum member Will, creator and writer of A Suitable Wardrobe, recommends a square for all empty breast pockets.  While that may have been appropriate when coats were worn with only trousers, nowadays sport coats can be seen with jeans and even sneakers.  Should you wear a pocket square in this instance?  Since a pocket square dresses up an outfit, whether or not you choose one depends on the look you’re going for.  Are you sporting sneakers and beat-up jeans with that sport coat?  Then skip the square; it’ll look out of place with the casual kicks, like a top hat with pajamas.  A pocket square in a sport coat with raw denim and loafers or wingtips, however, give off a similar dressier vibe.
How should you wear your square?  As with neckties, simpler is better.  Countless YouTube videos demonstrate a dozen ways to fold and place pocket squares in increasingly-complex methods, most of which are fastidiously abominable.  The following are not only the best ways to wear a pocket square, they are the only ways you need to know.
The Square Fold (AKA the TV Fold, AKA the Presidential Fold)
The most basic fold, often seen in Styleforum’s “Conservative Business Dress” thread.  Anesthetized and inoffensive, this option may be perfect for the rest of your outfit if you are going to a formal event or if you work in a conservative office (think grey worsted suits with black captoes).  However, many people make the mistake of folding the square so that none of the seams show, and are instead left with a perfect, paper crease-like fold at the top of their pocket.
This is a proper way to do it: place the square in your pocket so that the edges of the square are facing the shoulder and arm.  This gives a touch of visual interest to an otherwise, well, boring square.  Try angling the outside corner up and out toward your deltoid.  This way the diagonal lines of the square’s edges echo the same contours of the V of your suit and lapels.  For extra credit, space the edges apart haphazardly as you fold to create a more organic square-ish fold.  This type of fold works well with small repeating patterns, and of course, plain white linen or cotton.
The Three Point Fold
Variations of this one exist (Two and Four Points), but even numbers seem to make an already artificially manipulated piece of frivolous cloth overly contrived.  To do it, simply fold the square in half on the diagonal, bring the left corner up over the top so it falls on the right, and then the right corner behind so it falls on the left.  A less studied look than the Square Fold, and works with all squares.
The Puff
The puff is basically a half circle, accomplished in several ways.  The easiest way is by simply shoving the points down in your pocket, leaving a puff at the top.  This can sometimes look a little shapeless, so another way is by pinching the middle of the square, twisting it, and folding it.  This creates soft pleats that give the square an interesting dimensionality.  Another way similar to the last is after pinching the square, bringing it through an O of your thumb and forefinger, and then folding it in half so that the points are either behind or on the outside edge of the puff.  Best for abstracts, paisleys, and large prints.
The Whatever
Another option is to do combinations of the three above. I find myself doing the Three Point and Puff Fold regularly. I also like how Will at A Suitable Wardrobe puts it: shove it in, direct points toward your left, and forget about it.  This is basically what is demonstrated by TTO here:
Pocket squares, like most articles of menswear, follow simple rules of aesthetics and harmony.  You may not always need one, but when you do, practicing these tried-and-true methods can make your pocket square an elegant accompaniment to your ensemble. Finally, for your edification and viewing enjoyment, I’ve put together a video, which you can watch below:

Visiting La Stoffa Clothing

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Few clothing companies can lay claim to owning an aesthetic.  The best brands combine beauty with function in a way that is organic and intuitive, when each of their products are simple, alluring, and useful.

This is Stòffa, who I found out about purely by accident.

Months ago, while enjoying drams of Macallan and Highland Park, Ian, a fellow forumite and friend, told me about them in hushed tones of awe.  

“Have you seen their jackets?” he asked, to which I admitted I hadn’t.  “You’ll be hearing about them soon,” he proclaimed, and while my interest was piqued, I never followed up, and quickly forgot.

Later, my editor, Jasper, sends me an email:

Stòffa is doing a trunk show this week in San Francisco.  Write an article.

Since I had to leave for Los Angeles in a few days, I quickly emailed Agyesh of Stòffa.  He was completely booked, but would be doing a trunk show in LA that weekend, so we made an appointment for Sunday.  In the meantime, I did my research: what is Stòffa?

Turns out, Stòffa is everything you ever wanted in a jacket.  And trousers.  And much more.

Sunday rolls around, and I meet Agyesh in a new development in Culver City.  He is keen to meet before he shows me any of his wares, and I’m glad I did.  Over Blue Bottle Coffee, Agyesh reveals himself to be an everyman who loves clothes.  “I was a computer engineer,” he begins, “Developing interfaces for the end user, where their experience was paramount.  Then I worked at Isaia, had an unlimited budget, an amazing mentor and the very best resources at our disposal, and could go anywhere I wanted to creatively.  But the concept felt so detached from the customer – the end user.  And the waste,” his head kicks back and his hands wave. “There is so much waste, did you know that?  

“With Stòffa, it’s practically nothing. With retail, you made so much more than what we sell. It’s almost impossible to get out of that cycle with retailers; I wanted a new supply and delivery chain from the start with Stòffa.”

The way Agyesh is able to do this is simple: take your order, and your order is made.  There is no stock, nothing that may or may not be bought.  There are just four jackets, six options of material, and every piece is made to order.  And more important: made to measure. Also, fabrics are created in such away that they are used across categories, and the same raw yarn used multiple times.

“The guys that I know that are into suits, they are so conscious of fit and proportions,” Agyesh says, “Which is fine, but when they wear casual clothes, they are not nearly as particular. They settle with what is made for them.  That is ridiculous.”

As a man with a stature less like the Adonis-esque models often chosen for menswear, I personally have found that, with suiting, bespoke offers a fit that cannot be achieved with simple alterations to off-the-rack garments.  Agyesh takes that model and applies it to casual wear.  “If you’re short,” he explains, “We won’t simply shorten the sleeves.  We’ll shorten the length, raise the pockets.  Everything to make it look proportional.”

With a background in programming UI and working at one of the world’s most well-known clothing manufacturers, I’m convinced this man knows about how things should fit.  But what about style?

“I had in mind a relaxed and elegant style coupled with a little personality that suits the lifestyle and context of a man in the modern times. Someone who is always one the move and wants to maintain an air of elegance without forced formality through every aspect of his life.”  The result is neither fastidious nor slovenly. Simple and casual, yet elegant.

He then shows me to his samples at the trunk show, and I am awestruck.  Not by anything radical or unusual, but by the distinct approach to an otherwise staid concept.  The four jacket styles are nothing new – their flight jacket, field jacket, asymmetric jacket (similar to a double rider) and longer coat are hallmarks of casual menswear and a staple in most men’s closets.  However, it’s the way in which they are rendered that makes them fresh: large pockets, sweeping collars, and luxe fabrics. 

Agyesh gives me a flight jacket to try on first.  “This is the most elegant,” he says, and I immediately see why.  The clean and familiar lines evoke just enough nostalgia while avoiding gimmicky costume.  Instinctively I reach to put my hands in side pockets, and they’re there.  Agyesh notices. “We wanted to make something practical, not simply an exercise in art,” he says.

Agyesh himself is sporting the asymmetrical jacket in taupe, which looks unassumingly chic with his breezy rumpled linen trousers and beat-up Superga sneakers.  “I’ve had this for over two years,” he says with a smile.  “All of our clothes are tested for a year or more.  It’s something I’ve taken from my years as a developer – nothing was released until it had months of testing.  I wanted to make sure everything not just lasted but looked better with time.”

Finally I tried on the asymmetrical coat, a three-quarter length piece with generous lapels that inconspicuously buttons off-center.  “There is absolutely no structure in this, no lining,” Agyesh explains, “so we had to shape it with seams.”  Indeed, for a coat so light, I’m impressed by its classic cut down through the waist and graceful a-line sweep outward.  This is the  jacket I’m getting.  Or…Agyesh’s.  Or maybe the flight jacket.  

I’m still undecided.

If you’re interested in seeing Stòffa’s wares for yourself, you’ll have to make it to one of their trunk shows – remember, everything is made to order, and you can’t buy the clothes online. Stòffa  has trunk shows every 5-6 weeks in LA, San Francisco, New York, and Stockholm, which hopefully will give you enough time make a decision.

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Confessions of a Footwear Aficionado: Saint Crispin’s Shoes

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I’ll admit it: I didn’t get what people saw in shoes.

Who looks at shoes? I thought.  The first thing people see is your face, then what surrounds it.  End of story.  For me, it was all about the suit.  Shoes were just an afterthought.

When I first joined Styleforum ten years ago and scrolled through page after page of inspiring photos of menswear, I was baffled at all the shoes.  Closeups, lovingly framed with mystical bokeh, as if prepped for their senior portrait. My feelings were ambivalent; I couldn’t help but be impressed at the intricate craftsmanship apparent in the pictures, but at the same time I couldn’t fathom the amount of interest in something that covers such a small percentage of your body.

Hardy Aimes famously said, “It is totally impossible to be well-dressed in cheap shoes,” which may sound like class bullying but is, in fact, true.  And finally, I bought my first new pair of shoes over $200, feeling somewhat ashamed at the expenditure.  Regular, utilitarian, basic black captoes from the Allen Edmonds store on Sutter Street.  Truth be told, I wasn’t incredibly enamored with them; they were nondescript and certainly heavier than the other two pairs of shoes I had in my closet.  However, I was struck at how comfortable they were.  Almost immediately I became a new convert and started preaching the gospel of shoes.  I could wear these for hours, I remember saying a million times to anyone that would listen.  

 Gradually my perceptions changed and I began to see shoes differently.  Was I misdirecting my attention?  Out of curiosity I started looking down more.  I was learning that shoes can say a lot about the wearer.  Then it dawned on me one day, while looking at my wife’s closet, and realizing the obvious, that shoes are kind of a big deal.  These pavement-hitters that envelop our foot in for practical protection can also be works of art unto themselves.  If not careful, one can be easily entranced by a shoe’s sweeping curves, beveled waists, and intricate stitching.  

Nowadays, my closet dwarfs my wife’s, and shoes make up a sizable part of it.  My favorites are from Saint Crispin’s, a company based out of Romania, where shoes are made passionately following the time-honored way, using only their hands or hand-powered tools.  I mean, just look at this video, and pretend to hide your awe of the craft.  The amount of hours making one pair of shoes rival that of a bespoke suit.  Leather is clicked (cut), then hand-stained, skived, glued, and sewn, before being put on the shoe last and hammered into submission.  A distinguishing characteristic of Saint Crispin’s that is usually noticed first are the dozens of wooden pegs in the waist.  These serve to provide lightweight sturdiness and a solid foundation to the shoe, unlike a heavier metal shank that may be used in other brands. Hard counters are present in the arches, something generally not seen with other makers.  These, together with the pegs, make up the backbone of the shoes’ legendary foot support.  

Zachary Jobe is currently in charge of how the brand is presented in the Western Hemisphere, and travels quarterly to various locations to offer their wares to shoe aficionados like myself.  I wanted to repair a pair I purchased off of the Buy and Sell section of the forum, and got a chance to hear a little more about the company.

“The Americas are a bit different from Europe,” he explains.  “There, due in part to simple geography and proximity, we have a larger network of stockists.  While we are maintaining relationships with our stockists here in the Americas and judiciously seeking to expand that network, it also made sense to make ourselves available to private clients.”

And so he comes, several times a year, filled with appointments with people from a variety of backgrounds.  Most of the lasts fit fine on me, but not everybody.  While I was ogling and snapping pictures of different makeups Zach had on display in his hotel suite, Justin, who works in real estate, came in for a made-to-measure fitting.  “The aesthetic is phenomenal, but because of fit issues, I’m limited in what shoes I can comfortably wear.  Here I can pay a one-time charge for a personal last, and get all my shoes for the same price as ready-to-wear.  That opened up a whole new set of options I never previously had.”  Justin came in wearing a trial shoe, something that Saint Crispin’s does for every client that gets a personal last.  Made a little less stiff, the trial shoe helps the customer get an idea of how the final shoe will fit, while allowing room to make minor adjustments if necessary.

“I had been looking at other options,” he relates, “but the ability to have my own last made, and get all future purchases made in that last, prompted me to make an appointment the last time Zach was in town.  And their style.  There are so many options.  It was really hard to order just one pair.”  Justin had been to trunk shows from other makers in the past, but he was impressed with Zach’s attention to fit.  “Others would just put me in a trial shoe, but Zach got out a tape measure and wrote down notes.  This gave me the confidence that this first pair would fit perfectly.  Even this trial pair is better than any other shoe I had ever owned before, and I’ve been walking in them all morning.  I can’t imagine how the final shoe will look and feel.”

Those two words – look and feel – succinctly encapsulate what draws the shoe aficionado.  Achieving perfection may cost dearly, but at the end of the day, your feet will thank you, and you can go to sleep knowing that your outfit was complete, feet shod admirably. 

Below is a slideshow showcasing some of Saint Crispin’s offerings. If you’d like to read more about Saint Crispin’s, head over to the St. Crispin’s Appreciation Thread

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Peter’s Picks for Shoulder Season Style

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Spring in San Francisco is onerous.  It’s as if winter is on its deathbed with a wet cough that keeps drenching you with incessant gloom as it slowly releases its grip on daylight.  It’s pathetic.  Long after the novelty off sweater weather wears off, you just feel like pulling the plug and ending the misery.

My first spring in New York was unforgettable.  For months, the trees surrounding me in Putnam County had been shivering naked during the long winter like so many desiccated toothpicks, reaching up to a sun that would give them no warmth.  The trails circling Mountain Brook were surrounded by dirty snow that blended into the granite horizon and ashen sky, painting a dormant landscape filtered in desolation, until finally the earth awoke.  I remember buds shooting from the branches while it was still cold in March, offering hope of renewed life.  I was so excited I walked around in jeans and a t-shirt; 36 degrees seemed almost warm.  The snow began to melt, and within weeks, the whole valley of the east branch of the Croton River exploded in an intense, waxy green, sparkling in the breeze with hues of malachite in the sun and viridian in the shade.  I’ll never forget that sight; it could have made anyone a believer.

It’s no wonder, then, that our clothes reflect spring’s renewal of life and color.  The changing of seasons brings longer days and blossoming flora, prompting us to put away our heaviest winter coats in somber hues and exchange them for something lighter and cheery.  For men, this traditionally means oxford cloth button-downs in soft pastel hues of robin’s egg blue, pale pink, and dusty yellow.   Since it won’t get really hot for several months, now is what some call “Shoulder Season,” when moderate temperatures can accommodate items from both summer and winter wardrobes, without necessitating full-on shearling or head-to-toe linen.  Lamentably, many places have pathetically a short Shoulder Season.  This is a shame, since spring and autumn have arguably the most pleasant temperatures of the year – the Golden Mean Climate – perfect for for a variety of menswear.  Here are some of my favorites for spring:

A faux tweed sport coat.  I’m considering sending this fabric to my tailor in Sicily.  A lightweight wrinkle-resistant wool from the long-gone Hardy Minnis Riviera line, the dusty kelly green expresses just the right amount of “spring” without being garish.  A jacket in this color goes great with light grey trousers, tan chinos or faded jeans, so I expect I’ll be wearing this a lot come March.  One of my favorite online stores, No Man Walks Alone (also a Styleforum affiliate), headed by longtime forum member Greg Lellouche, has a jacket in a solid olive green and a houndstooth patterned blue and brown in fabrics that are perfect for spring and would transition well into summer.  If you’re not a plaid person, try a suit or jacket in a fresh sage green cotton instead of traditional tan.

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A suede safari jacket.  Last year I scored one from Polo Ralph Lauren at Goodwill for less than $30.  It quickly became one of my favorites, and I found it went surprisingly well with a variety of outfits: beat-up denim and white sneakers, fresco trousers and tan chukkas, and hunter green khakis and boots.  The four utilitarian pockets carry just about anything, and the jacket can be worn open for ventilation, casually belted for a quick jaunt to the market, or buttoned-and-belted for when the wind starts to pick up.  Fair warning: people will want to touch you.

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A mid-weight sweater.  Twenty years ago, a sweet girl from Hyde Park named Liz gave me a periwinkle blue cotton cable-knit crewneck sweater from LL Bean, and I ended up wearing it all spring.  In fact, they still offer the same one, available online.  Perfect for those in-between times when you don’t have to worry about shedding layers of clothes.  Sweaters such as this one feel wonderful against your skin, and when the temperature changes you can either roll up your sleeves or throw on a Baracuta.  Later on, I picked up a shawl-collar sweater in a cotton-cashmere blend that serves more or less the same purpose, worn either with a simple white t-shirt or taking the place of a more formal jacket.

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