I went against rule number one when considering tailoring modifications–altering your jacket shoulders. For a (recovering) vintage collector like me, the risk was completely worthwhile in order to try to salvage some of my most prized pieces. The results ended up surprising me, just like how they will probably surprise you as you continue in this article.
Despite some attempts to weave an origin story out of mythological or romantic anecdotes, the story of Aran jumpers began out of necessity. In the late 19th century, Northern Ireland faced a shortage of potatoes as well as rising unemployment and an emigration crisis. In a remarkable entrepreneurial fit, the Congested Districts Board for Ireland, among other things, suggested people weave and knit garments, and make a living out of this activity.
Looking around Pitti, I wanted to photograph the people that were more visually interesting to me. Sometimes, those were characters who bordered on the absurd. But in general, my goal was to photograph those who I felt would be more interesting to users of Styleforum, people who tended to have a more conservative or classic aesthetic.
Here’s a selection of some of the best and most interesting outfits from Pitti Uomo 95. The streetstyle from Fortezza Dal Basso oftentimes shows the trends we’ll be following in the next months, so tell us what catches your eye! For more pictures and coverage from Pitti Uomo 95, check out our Instagram page, and check our stories for insiders peeks inside the fair.
Back in the day, Esquire magazine stalwartly carried the torch of classic black tie. One of my favorite writers of that era, John Berendt, grew up in Syracuse, New York, not far from one of the first appearances of the tuxedo. Almost immediately after graduating from Harvard, he became an associate editor of Esquire from 1961 to 1969 and continued to contribute from 1982 to 1994, when his book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was published. Many of his columns begrudgingly acknowledge trends while scornfully piss on what he calls “atrocities.” A particularly funny one is when he took umbrage with some of the spirited choices his contemporaries passed off as acceptable black tie. After observing that the first two public exhibitions of Henry Poole’s dinner jacket in America caused quite a stir, he wrote:
“I mention these two episodes…to make the point that, historically, there has never been much tolerance for individual touches when it comes to formal attire. And properly so–if not for the sake of tradition, than because for some reason the classic model is almost always debased rather than improved by innovation….But in a perverse sort of way we can be grateful to them because of what they reveal about the wearer’s level of taste.”
Classics: The Tuxedo, from Esquire, January 1983
For about 100 years, the classic black tie model has remained more or less the same, and is fairly straightforward: the suit itself can be black or midnight blue wool. As for the jacket, the most formal is single breasted peak lapel, and happens to be the most flattering one. Your shirt, which is always white, should be the quintessential marcella bib with two or three studs. A wing collar would have been the first choice a century ago, but nowadays a soft turndown collar has become the norm. Pleated shirts are fine, but I find they go better with peak lapels in a double breasted jacket or shawl collars in either configuration. A notch collar is acceptable, but has the tendency to look more waiter than waited on. Your bow tie, which should never be pre-tied and always in front of your shirt collar, can be in either black silk satin or grosgrain. Ideally the same material should be repeated in the lapel facings, buttons, and a single stripe down the trouser’s outside seam. Your waist should be covered by a double breasted jacket, a formal black waistcoat, or a cummerbund that matches your tie. Shoes are black oxfords or opera pumps in patent leather, although either in properly shined calf leather is a fine alternative. Hosiery is black silk.
Once you have a tuxedo in any of the above, you can start to go crazy – a little – for less ceremonious affairs. An easy way to do this is by simply swapping the top. An off-white jacket is a fine choice for daytime or if you happen to find yourself on a boat. On informal occasions, such as a party in someone’s home, a velvet smoking jacket in deep jewel tones is a louche option, or plaid if you’re feeling particularly festive. In these cases, lapels should never be notched, and facings can be in black silk or in the same color and material as the jacket, depending on how shiny you wish to be. If you feel especially casual, you can swap your courtly footwear for slippers in silk or velvet in black.
There are other options, of course, but listed above are already a dozen or so that will take you everywhere from the opera to the stag party. With the proviso that you have them all already and are exceptionally popular with a calendar bursting with fancy engagements, just don’t. Unless you’re Andy57.
Andy Poupart is a self-professed romantic that loves black tie more than anyone I know. His job, like most of us, doesn’t pit him against secret agents or nefarious megalomaniacs, but if it did, he’d be ready for the part. His black tie closet includes:
Straight-ahead, classic, by-the-book, black, peak lapel, grosgrain facings, single-breasted dinner jacket, with matching trousers, cummerbund, and U-front waistcoat
Midnight blue, shawl lapel, midnight blue satin silk facings, single breasted jacket, with matching trousers, cummerbund, and U-front waistcoat
Deep bottle green velvet, black grosgrain facings and cuffs, shawl lapel, single breasted jacket
Thai silk, red, self-faced, peak lapel, single breasted jacket
To accompany these, he has socks in black and midnight blue silk, two shirts each in white and ivory, all with soft turndown collars and marcella fronts, several sets of studs and links, a butterfly and diamond point bowtie in black grosgrain, another in black mogodor, a fourth in midnight blue satin silk, and black patent leather oxfords. If that sounds like overkill, be assured Andy has worn every piece in his armory many times over, and has his eyes set on a few more. “I keep thinking about a burgundy double-breasted jacket in a fantastic wool/silk velvet,” he grins.
Although all of his outfits are excellent, Andy reckons his favorite is the ivory dinner jacket. “I designed it after Humphrey Bogart’s in Casablanca. When I wear it, I’m a 1940s gun-runner, one step ahead of the bad guys, with places to go and things to do that you can’t be any part of, but we’ll always have Paris. Oh, and a martini in one hand.”
“I know that all sounds silly, but I don’t care,” he states. “It’s how I can express the side my personality that I want to portray. I think that when we get dressed, in any sort of clothes, we are telling a story about ourselves, how we wish to appear to the world. When I wear black tie, I feel I’m presenting the best me.”
I have to catch up to Andy – I’ve got a few black tie rigs myself, but alas, no velvet yet.
You can wait until the invitation requests it, or you can do like Andy and where it wherever you want. To be honest, even a black trash bag is better than not trying at all, but as long as you’re trying, you might as well do it right. To that end, try your best to follow John Berendt’s sage words:
“My advice is to stick with the classic unless you happen to have a tailor with the prescience of a Henry Poole. And the odds are you do not.”
Despondent, inconsolable, and thoroughly litigated, when last we met not even Mouton Rothschild and locker room photos of the Brazilian national soccer team sufficed to drive off the spleen.
But that is all in the past: triumphant and rejuvenated, I again face the world and your travails. How have you spent the last few weeks? I envision package tours from an online travel retailer, complete with meal vouchers and a chardonnay whose top unscrews.
I am freshly returned from Ibiza and the annual conference of the Lytton Society, an ancient and proud membership devoted to the study of uranistic adverbs in ancient Roman poetry. Tears were shed; teeth were gnashed. A volume of Catullus very nearly severed my spine.
Even more than my keynote speech on men’s hosiery in the Horacian Odes, I was admired for my choice of holiday scent. One poetic admirer recalled Papylus, who Martial quips had a member so large that “ut possis, quotiens arrigis, olfacere.” But I digress…
For the holidays, one must have a scent that is dark, deep, warm, and rich, not unlike a Bahraini oil sheikh but without the threat of stoning. Think spices, cloves, musk, resin, woods, and incense. Leave the bergamot, cardamom, and aquatic notes for spring; in the cold weather they’ll be as flat and lifeless as Renée Fleming attempting Isolde.
Here are four to consider: the first is a secret gem, Guerlain’s Winter Delice. Hard to find and oddly marketed as part of their light, inexpensive, and usually fleeting Aqua Allegoria series, this one is a strong, subtle blend of spice and musk. Far from being loud and cloying, it sticks close to the skin and reminds one of Christmas time on the Avenue George V, holding hands with the evening’s preferred sailor on leave from Marseille.
Dipping away from quiet potpourri and into something darker is L’Artisan Parfumeur’s Passage d’enfer. Imagine stone gates, centuries of incense smoked into wooden benches, and cathedrals lit only with a few wax candles. One confesses to forbidden sins through damask curtains, and Ebenezer Scrooge delights in stealing coins from the offering plate.
A little more joyous and less likely to inspire excommunication is Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier’s Secret Melange. Happier, sweeter and less spicy than the others, it is an interesting blend of cloves, citrus fruit, and has a wonderful soapy quality that feels warmer than it does clean. The lovely cut-glass bottle in red and the gilded cap alone are worth the price of admission. Like all MPG scents, it’s a love it or hate it affair; but like most things French, it’s worth at least one ride along the Pigalle.
Perhaps best of all, and most pleasant to the widest audience, is Comme des Garçons’ Incense series. Choose from several varieties, each with a different spirit and essence in mind. Kyoto is a perennial favorite; light and moody as a temple in the Japanese Alps. My own choice is at least a single sniff of Ouarzazate (an obvious and far-too-easy joke about rocking one’s Kasbah will not be a part of this review, my dears). Avignon, Jaisalmer, and Zagorsk round out the series, and all are worth a try. Although well-known for their avant-garde fashion, CdG also has some of the best designer fragrances on the market.
Even if one wishes to voyage beyond the four above, you must remember that, for scents, the key is impact. One should never buy a scent because it is “nice.” The goal is not to smell “clean,” but to make a mark. Avoid anything that would clash with your scent, so leave your scented soaps, lotions, and deodorants in the dust bin of history. You want to leave a trace of yourself behind, not unlike a fog of wonderful stink that lingers on in a ballroom even after the badinage has run its course. To do otherwise is to make a grave offense to the nose; to borrow a phrase from the Emperor Justinian, such transgressions are a well-known cause of earthquake.
This article was originally published on Styleforum.net by Professor Fabulous.