A Suitable Wardrobe

Stripes And Checks

2013-05-20T07:00:00.000-07:00

When is it OK to combine stripes and checks? One time is when the check is your suit and the stripes are your socks. Provided, as always, that the patterns have different scales.

For example, Edward Green brogues worn in the country with an old glen check suit and Cotton Dress Hose With a Subtly Contrasting Vertical Rib.

On Suitable Discourse

2013-05-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

I had pause in the wake of last weeks' post to reflect on what constitutes suitable discourse, and where that intersects with the concept of being a gentleman, that unvoiced striving endemic to so many men’s style blogs with any aspiration to classic elegance.

Surely, I thought, itching in my metaphorical hair shirt, we are a long way from the overarching concern of propriety, bienséance (more or less literally, that which is well suitable), that dictated the actions of an entire courtly class in La Princesse de Clèves. Nor should we be trying to ascribe to the concept of being a gentleman all of the vestigial window-dressing that word comports, for the sort of gentleman Anthony Eden was “too well-dressed to be” was notionally bound up in the class of a time long gone by and a class that almost none of us have any connection to (while the surname “de Mans” may suggest a distant link to 12-century Angevin royalty, it carries no weight for the purposes of this discussion). A man born a gentleman by virtue of his social class may be no better behaved or principled than the rest of us, contrary to our socially conditioned forelock-tugging.

Nor does wealth make a gentleman. While I like the quip from a beloved professional former rock star that the marks of a gentleman are “good manners and handmade shoes,” the ability to spend a lot on clothes does not make the man either (for heaven’s sake, look at the pictures of most internet clotheshorses). Spending a lot on clothes – or talking a lot and being judgmental about clothes – does not make one a gentleman, nor should it insulate someone from criticism about his behavior or speech. Neither, I hasten to add, does or should writing or speaking with particular formality or verbosity.

No, the only workable modern idea of being a gentleman is instead to be, as the Yiddish word goes, a mensch: someone who does right by others. I personally make no claim to be a gentleman; I find those who lay claim on the Internet to being one slightly creepy. I simply try to do what is Suitable. And part of doing what is suitable means being aware of others’ expectations of a particular setting or topic, and navigating them appropriately to communicate your point.

That said, awareness of context or others’ expectations, and sensitivity to your environment, does not mean bowdlerizing yourself, just as having particular expectations of content should not require your audience to take it literally. As my formidable fellow Wardrobe denizen NJS noted, language is an arsenal with various powerful items in it. But unlike physical arsenals immoderate use of those powerful weapons tends to weaken their effectiveness. There may be suitable occasions for powerful language, just as there are opportunities to recognize satire.

The clothing-conduct-language intersection reminds me of the designer Katharine Hamnett wearing a T-shirt proclaiming “58% DON'T WANT PERSHING” at a reception at 10 Downing Street in the 1980s. Prime Minister Thatcher’s apocryphal response was the disarming (no pun intended), “At last, a true original,” which no matter what one thought of her politics was a charming, unexpectedly tolerant reaction, much as how Will has behaved to most of my gibes: with good humor and grace. And Will, if not Baroness Thatcher, is a paragon of suitable conduct: even if we cannot or should not emulate him absolutely (I for one do not share his views on shirt jackets or chambray).

So here à propos of almost nothing is a picture of the other H&K cashmere-silk neckerchief Will and I both own, cheetahs devouring antelopes, for in my Srinagar-area virtual peregrinations I conclude that what we consider suitable to wear or to express is not necessarily the article of clothing, the words or the principle everyone else out there is wearing or saying. But as the punchline to the old joke goes, Vive la différence.

Words and (in the editor's opinion, low quality) photograph by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

London's Best

2013-05-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

It has taken several years to locate suppliers of the quality you expect from the ASW haberdashery but leathergoods have begun to trickle in. The first of them are business card cases, passport covers and a very slim jacket pocket wallet for evening made by R B J Simpson, supplier to London's best names including Foster & Son, G. J. Cleverley and John Lobb.

The best leather is superior to man-made fabrics for abrasion protection and that includes the hostile environment of many pocket interiors. Simpson uses the very best quality English Bridle leather to make strong, durable, scratch resistant and very lightweight products with great depth of color.

Visit New Arrivals.

Summer Shoes In The Country

2013-05-17T07:01:00.000-07:00

It has been spring cleaning week on the Sonoma coast, and yours truly has been living in the country to coordinate the various contractors required to get the house through another year (the salt air means things like exterior light fixtures rot away entirely in what seems like the blink of an eye). It is more casual here. In San Francisco some men wear suits. In the town of Sebastopol where I plan to have dinner at K&L Bistro tonight, there will not be so much as a jacket (this should not be too surprising given that the nearest men's clothier is fifty miles away).

Casual clothing to a pedant like myself falls into two classes: odd jackets and casual suits for the office and shirt jackets and odd trousers around and about (OK, on the golf course a shirt jacket is out of place). The only variables are the style of neckwear (which can range from neckerchiefs with the aforementioned shirt jackets, through scarves with shirt or odd jackets to neckties with odd jackets and suits) and the shoes.

City shoes are easy for we rulebound men: oxfords with suits, and bluchers or monks wih odd jackets. It is in the country that summer's options open to include a dizzying array of spectators, saddle shoes, bucks and all kinds of slipons to name just some of the possibilities. Rules go out the window for the most part, and you will not hear that from me often.

In the photograph, a blue cotton suit, paisley necktie and a pair of suede Sloops worn with Not So Basic Cotton Dress Socks in a lighter shade than the trousers a la Grant and Astaire.

Vulgar Has Its Own Reward

2013-05-16T07:01:00.000-07:00

We took some well-deserved criticism for the vulgarity of the title of the book we reviewed this past Sunday. I do not think we should be blamed for the publisher's choice of name but we did choose to review the thing and as Editor of course I take full responsibility for giving offense to some readers. That said, it is only fair that Réginald-Jérôme de Mans should metaphorically be scourged for his role in this fiasco. And so dear reader we offer you the Vulgar Has Its Own Reward contest.

Vulgar Has Its Own Reward asks only that you suggest one or more cheeky virtual punishments for M. deMans. For example, our friend Derek thought that RJ should be obliged to clip all his beloved Ballantyne rollnecks into Tiger Woods-esque mock turtlenecks. The Viceroy on the other hand, being apparently a less destructive soul, suggested that he be required to order an unlined yak hair coat from Camps de Luca (though it turns out he already has one from some lesser label).

Thanks to Cordings of Picadilly, who was kind enough to donate suitable rewards, each of up to six lucky contest winners will receive one navy cotton handkerchief beautifully printed with white game birds and a pair of green cotton socks with a snappy shotgun shell motif. As is only appropriate each gift has been carefully selected to be distinctive enough so that, should a winner and he ever occupy the same physical space, RJdM will be certain to know that said winner played a major role in this public thrashing.

You get the drift. Just click on the link to play (comments on the site are not eligible since among other things we will have no way to determine where to send the prize). We will publish the winners next week along with Réginald-Jérôme's response should he be bold enough to come out of hiding to do so.

Linen Shirts

2013-05-15T07:01:00.000-07:00

In the photograph, Peter Harvey's fresco jacket is combined with a shirt of Carlo Riva Lino Arsenal, a Simonnot-Godard pocket square and a Drake's London bow tie. Perhaps the least appreciated of those is the linen shirt, which is another of that set of things that deserve to be more common than they are.

Until the rise of cotton, linen was the most common fabric used close to the skin, which explains the name linens for shirts, handkerchiefs and bedding even though few of those are commonly made from linen any longer. Labor intensive to produce, the economics of linen usually require a higher price than cotton and the cost limits its popularity. On the other hand, linen wears cooler and absorbs moisture better than cotton, making the stuff a particularly comfortable choice for hot weather.

A second negative to linen besides price has been that in shirting weights the stuff creases when it is so much as looked at. Pure linen shirts are one of those things that should be changed at least once a day, which is hardly practical for men who need to be out and about for most of the time. And that is where another one of those blended fabric miracles of modern weaving technology comes into play, for Carlo Riva and David & John Anderson, the two best shirting makers of the world, each offer 50-50ish linen and cotton blends with a finer hand and a reduced propensity to crease than pure linen. Better still, in the somewhat rarified air in which these fabrics play their price is no more than the best pure cottons.

The usual knock on summer shirtings is that they can be sheer. Neither Lino Arsenal or DJAs Zephir 170 have this trait and that makes them perhaps the best choice for hot weather dress shirts.

It Takes Five Tailors

2013-05-14T09:29:00.001-07:00

With apologies to the biography of the late Adolphe Menjou, I have the less than ordinary habit of using several tailors each year. Each does some things better than the others which is the point of this post. So, for the gentleman who asked, here they are.

Double breasted fully lined city suits: Thomas Mahon of English Cut has his workshop in Cumbria and travels to the United States semi-annually, visiting New York and San Francisco. Thomas is uncomfortable with out of the mainstream requests but the best at what he does, which is a soft and unstructured suit in the Anderson & Sheppard style that works beautifully for double breasteds (the button point for single breasteds is too low in my opinion). From £2420.00 for a two piece suit from standard cloth that typically takes a year.

Single breasted city suits: Peter Harvey of Savile Row's Davies & Son travels to New York three times a year and visits other cities on two of those trips. The wonderfully accomodating Mr. Harvey cuts a somewhat-less-than-Huntsman-but-still-very-structured suit whose only negative is its price (more than $10,000 USD for a cashmere jacket and a Golden Bale two piece suit last year). Orders take about twelve months but the time can be shortened significantly if you visit them for a fitting between their visits.

Country clothing: Hong Kong's W. W. Chan cuts clothing that is a bit below Savile Row quality for about half of the Row's prices. They visit the USA three times a year, delivering what they call a finished jacket without a fitting in about four months. Most of the time however the garment is really at a final fitting stage and the customer needs to send his marked up pieces back to Hong Kong for adjustment. This practice is mildly deceptive in my opinion as new clients think they are getting something finished that no Row tailor would let out of the shop and that same customer is usually not qualified to tell that something is wrong. But though the service may be less than ordinary the price is extraordinary.

Summer clothing: Napolisumisura of Naples is new to me this year and I admire them not only for delivering great work but for scaling their business to accommodate growth without losing control over quality or deliveries. They are comfortable making an unlined jacket, and their pieces have much more hand sewing than anyone on the Row is economically able to provide. Semi-annual visits to the United States and an order takes about a year unless the customer visits them for a fitting in which case the time is cut in half. 2,400 euro plus cloth for jacket and trousers.

And occasionally: I use Henry Poole once in a while, most recently for a blazer and I intend to get another dinner jacket from them next year (they were after all the first to sew the things). Middle of the road style and middle of the road pricing; they are very accomodating of abnormal requests and Simon Cundey knows as much about cloth as anyone in the business. Poole travels the world, including two extensive trips to destinations in the United States. A typical order takes a year.

Timeless

2013-05-13T08:57:00.000-07:00

Browsing through my collection of Apparel Arts and Esquire illustrations, I revisited one of my favorite looks the other day. Though some of what was promoted as stylish in the 1930s, such as the loud seersucker suits and red dress shirts, looks dated or simply too deliberately conspicuous to me now another part of it will look good for so long as the English style of dress is still worn. The jacket style, suede shoes, striped socks, panama hat, shirt with white collar, white linen pocket square and bow tie add character and interest to an otherwise ordinary combination of tan and gray. I might not wear it to take the sun on the beach these days but a man should be perfectly happy with it for a museum visit, Saturday lunch or for that matter almost anywhere in Italy.

This is not to say that the ensemble in the illustration would not stand out during lunch at the Four Seasons. It will be noticed amidst the mundane clothing of the other diners, but then a well dressed man inevitably is.

Book Review: Fuck Yeah Menswear

2013-05-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

A crop of surprisingly non-terrible new clothing-related books has given the lie to my earlier direness about style writing. Foremost among these pop rocks for the jaded palate is Fuck Yeah Menswear: Bespoke Knowledge for the Crispy Gentleman, the book version of the notorious tumblr site fuckyeahmenswear, edited by Kevin Burrows and Lawrence Schlossman. To change analogies in mid-stream, this book is, as Pauline Kael wrote of the first Star Wars in 1977, “like getting a box of Cracker Jack which is all prizes.”

I confess that, not having read fuckyeahmenswear’s tumblr, I may be lacking in crispiness, whatever that is. But unlike the publication of the I Can Has Cheezburger book, this book does not inspire the reader with embarrassment for its source. Reading Fuck Yeah Menswear the book mixes the flush of self-recognition with the novelty of seeing various internet tropes and memes committed to print.

Interest in men’s fashion has become mainstream enough and widespread enough that the rise of a blog satirizing the assorted Internet-sanctified themes and brands making up what’s now known as “#menswear” was inevitable. I for one feel lucky that fuckyeahmenswear does it so sharply and well, though. Still, one needn’t be familiar with the #menswear world to recognize, laugh or cringe with each new page of this book.

Fuck Yeah Menswear includes essays on men’s fashion touchstones such as the importance of denim or the rise of the heritage brand, along with sections on Internet men’s style archetypes, and guides to the preferred #menswear brands, supposed essential men’s garments and the hierarchy of labels for each article of a man’s wardrobe. Each of these has its epic moments: the archetype section skewers each subculture, from the preps and their joyless cousins the trads (who I had still held out hope might turn out to be someone’s elaborate online joke) to the goth ninja (I laughed out loud, one of my best e-friends is a goth ninja of the Fūma clan). The guide to essentials lands a masterful strike of literary dim mak in hitting each of the essential items of clothing with a tongue-in-cheek preciosity that’ll make your toes curl; and I had to retrain my facial muscles to get the smirk off my face after learning that the hierarchy guide (from “wealth” to “baller” to “poor”) dismisses Brooks Brothers (for shirts), J. Crew (trousers) and Allen Edmonds (shoes) as “poor.” For in the solipsistic, echoing virtual world of today’s postmodern Walter Mittys these classifications take on extra relevance and resonance as some of the most frequently mentioned, coveted and most of all, derided brands.

Derision is one of the low-denomination currencies of Internet forums: easy to acquire and to wield based on hearsay, received wisdom, or a simple willingness to outspend one’s virtual peers for more aspirational, more exclusive, labels. And in capturing that derision, Fuck Yeah Menswear shines most of all outside these organized sections, in the interspersed photos of #menswear preciosity with accompanying poetic, creatively imagined inner monologues, soliloquies or dialogues glistening with put-downs, name-checking and nicknaming celebrities and status brands that are generally meaningless to people outside the #menswear community (Boglioli, Nick Wooster, Brunello Cucinelli, the Sartorialist…).

Elaborately lauded though they are, there’s no point in or need for quibbling with the particular brands Fuck Yeah Menswear ranks and celebrates. Whether, for instance, the “wealth” suit should be “Savile Row Bespoke” and not a maker prized by the Internet for being even rarer and more expensive like Liverano or Rubinacci bespoke is beside the point. Fuck Yeah Menswear records that certain fanatic, thoughtless received wisdom known as groupthink, presumptions and prejudices that accrete based on thirdhand repetition and that lack of empiricism that means that all experience, now, is becoming virtual. So Fuck Yeah Menswear’s rogues gallery of favorite shops will ring true with many readers even if we have never been to Atlanta and Sid Mashburn or to New Haven and J. Press: punters have already visited all of these new opium dens in the pipe dreams of forum threads, magazine articles and blog reviews.

Carefully contrived for an imagined and virtual public of potential fashion bloggers and forum participants and throwing out intentionally obscurantist keywords like “sprezz” and “trad,” Fuck Yeah Menswear brings out the self-involved, incestuous cultishness of internet men’s clothing subcultures despite their uneasy balkanization of the past decade, Fuck Yeah Menswear is at its best arrested on these images, their subjects apparently unaware of the evanescence of their own interest (surely interest men’s clothing will become uncool again soon now that everyone is talking about it and I can go back to being mildly eccentric again), unpacking superficiality for the yearning that we all seek for the acceptance of a broader community that understands and shares our tastes, along with the status cravings most of us won’t admit to.

Words by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans.

Rain Forecast For Mother's Day?

2013-05-11T07:01:00.000-07:00

Keep Mom, Dad or both dry with my newly arrived hand-made umbrellas. Whether you choose bamboo with a striped canopy for the woman in your life, a sports umbrella with a collapsible seat for 18 holes that Sunday, or one of my more formal models for wear in the city you’ll stay stylishly dry.

Made in Milan by Maglia Francesca.

The Patterned Blazer

2013-05-10T07:01:00.000-07:00

Once a basic navy is in the closet a patterned blue jacket may get more use than a second traditional blazer. The patterned coat can play blazer when that is what is required, and also serves for occasions when a blazer might be too formal.

More memorable than a solid, something with an overcheck should rarely be the only coat of its type in the wardrobe. It does better as an alternate worn with a solid necktie like the one sported by a younger Lapo Elkann.

Spring Scarves

2013-05-09T08:10:00.002-07:00

The season is not yet ready for madras, linen and the rest of what are loosely characterized as summer scarves. Cashmere and wool on the other hand are too warm for spring, and yet the days' variable temperatures (not to mention the wearer's style statements) can still call for a scarf. That is where dotted silk comes into the picture. Neither too warm or too cool, silk may be worn covering the chest when the weather is brisk or open under a jacket when the sun is shining. The look may be too flamboyant for some offices but should be appreciated by the audience on social occasions.

Photograph by Marc Guyot

When To Wear Red Socks

2013-05-08T07:01:00.000-07:00

To paraphrase the late designer Hardy Amies, the time to wear red socks is when all else is blue.

Wit For Evening

2013-05-07T07:01:00.000-07:00

The variety of dress that we have become accustomed to since globalization began has greatly increased our acceptance of differences in style. Difference has not always been so accepted. I have always remembered the story of the small riot caused by the first man to venture out in London wearing a top hat, and, on a more personal level, apprehension about the reaction of my peers kept my opera pumps in the closet for several years after their purchase.

Today of course most of that sensitivity towards what others might think tends to be confined to the social set in which we move. A man may be self conscious about wearing a fedora on the street, but he soon finds that he is the only one who is paying attention. That is a form of opportunity, if you will.

Clothing should be more than just practical, and house shoes are one of the better ways for a man to have fun with his clothes and pay lip service to tradition without raising too many eyebrows too high. The Albert slipper, for example, was often worn in the evening outside the bedroom and remains a perfectly acceptable choice today. A comfortable velvet slipper with a hard leather sole, Alberts are suitable for away from home activities that do not include long walks on pavement, such as long airplane flights, black tie events, evenings at a man's club or more basic occasions like dinners out.

Part of the tradition of the Albert is a design on the vamp, either initials or a representation of a hobby or lifestyle choice. Which brings us back to opportunity. Wit is perfectly acceptable, witness the embroidered skulls on G. J. Cleverley's Alberts in the photographs. Should a friend notice, let him in on the joke. No-one else will pay attention.

Photography by Luke Carby

Artist/Rebel/Dandy

2013-05-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

Artist/Rebel/Dandy: Men of Fashion kicked off at the Museum of Art at the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence last week (it is on display through August 18). The exhibition traces artist-dandies from Beau Brummell through Oscar Wilde and into the 21st century's “Dandy of New York” Patrick McDonald and designer Motofumi “Poggy” Kogi of United Arrows. The clothing and caricatures of artist Max Beerbohm are on view adjacent to the garments of Vogue magazine's Hamish Bowles while Charles Baudelaire is featured alongside the clothing and style of painter, New York bon vivant and RISD professor Richard Merkin.

Personally, I was most interested in the checked tweed ensembles in the photos, which undoubtedly proves that I am not much of a dandy if that was ever in doubt. As to the rest of it, Andrew Yamato is working on a made-for-ASW video of the exhibit itself that will hopefully be posted here later this month.

Support the cause. If you cannot make the pilgrimage buy the book. Better yet, do both.

Photography by Rose Callahan

Another Obit

2013-05-05T07:01:00.000-07:00

I’d been planning to write a piece on the whimsical design of this infamous piece of knitwear, a cashmere crewneck with a complicated hand laid intarsia design of Fred Astaire, from, I think, Top Hat, on both front and back. Instead, the closure and liquidation of its maker forces me to write this as a memory of Caerlee Mills, the historic and last Scottish production facility of the cashmere label Ballantyne, once synonymous with the best quality Scottish cashmere and now just another so-called heritage brand.

Many of the dates and details of Ballantyne’s history can be found online, but without context and personal entanglement it becomes just meaningless PR: Knitting activities founded in 1921, historic activities around Innerleithen, postwar visits from the Queen and exhibits featuring hand-worked intarsia (inlaid knit) details such as flowers or the argyle pattern with which Ballantyne was most closely associated. Love from the Italians, a product placement in The World Is Not Enough that was as invisible as Bond’s Aston Martin, and now lots of blather about heritage and history.

Let me take it from my perspective, starry-eyed, magpie-eyed, growing up at a time when cashmere was a rarity and a luxury commodity. Ballantyne was most simply a name to conjure with; occasionally conjured up at one of those cavernous and dusty Scottish merchandise shops, fleetingly and unattainably. A chance cheap vintage find dropped the scales from my eyes, cashmere that was both dense but soft, lush and durable. I quickly found that not all Scottish cashmere was comparable as most of the other brands I tried didn’t come close to the quality of my old sweater. My cheap vintage find became very expensive indeed as I tracked down other sources at the shops that had stocks of the old Ballantyne or who had gotten it to make new sweaters to the old spec – Charvet in Paris, Lamm in St-Moritz, among others. Even as I did so, Scottish cashmere both good and bad was getting harder and harder to find.

In 2000 or so, after about a decade of crippling onslaught from cheap cashmere, most of the remaining Scottish cashmere producers had formed a “Scottish Cashmere Club” intended to raise the profile of Scottish cashmere. Its member list now boasts a casualty percentage that could make Haig weep: Peter Scott, Murray Allan, HJ & JB 1788 Cashmere, all gone to the wall. Ballantyne had been part of the conglomerate Dawson International for some decades, a vertically integrated company that owned, among others, Barrie,Ballantyne, Laing, Pringle, the yarn spinners Todd & Duncan and a number of other brands that had gone defunct: McGeorge, Braemar, Caerlee, and so on. In order to deal with its debts it gradually sold off most of its assets – Pringle is now a brand with no production facilities (its Scottish production is made by Johnstons), Barrie is now owned by Chanel and continues to produce, Todd & Duncan was sold to the Chinese but still spins excellent yarn in Scotland, and in the early part of this millennium, Ballantyne and a stable of brands were sold to Charme, an investment fund owned by sartorial demigod Luca di Montezemolo.

A bit of background: Yarn is spun from threads or fibers. Cloth is woven from threads. Knits are, well, knit from yarn. Some ascribed the Scottish reputation for knitwear to the soft water knits are washed in for finishing. I think that’s a myth, similar to the Scottish water myth Huntsman dismisses about its reason for famously sending clothes to Scotland for cleaning: “they’re simply marvelous cleaners.” Labor was comparatively cheaper in Scotland than in many other parts of Britain, power for mills available from various streams and rivers, and Scottish knitters moved upmarket into cashmere when cheaper imports began to undercut Scottish wool sweaters. In other words, the Scots applied their knowledge and expertise in knitting to premium materials that could be priced to include their labor costs. That history made for a trained workforce with great skill in the old knitting machines and techniques. Certain of the newer machines, I understand, can knit faster and turn out more production, but the speed they work with makes for a slacker, less tight and thus less dense knit. The sort of tightness and density of the knits on my sweaters had a softness of its own that took a wear to break in and make itself felt. The reader can no doubt supply his own slightly creepy metaphor to evoke that sort of sensual tightness and softness.

In the 1990s the Chinese, who supply most of the raw material for cashmere production, greatly expanded the supply of cashmere fibers and took over more of the processing operations. My understanding is that the increase in production meant that coarser and lower quality fibers were also included in the mix (cashmere comes from the guard hairs of a certain mountain goat; the temperatures and environment affect the quality of the hair so that they can’t be raised in more hospitable places for cultivation). In any event, this led to the popularization of cashmere, which once was such a luxury item that shops in the Bahamas sold Scottish cashmere at their tax-free stores for cruise ship and other passengers. Unfortunately, it’s not just the material which makes the quality. Along with the need to start with good quality raw material, the knitting processes and finishing have a lot of impact on that and, in my experience, can’t be learned overnight – even if the desire exists.

The Scottish workers at Ballantyne were famous for their knitting and finishing skill. While their simple classic knits, such as those I, well, as Will writes, collect and obsess over, reflect that skill, Ballantyne was also particularly famous for its hand intarsia work that involved knitting many different pieces of a pattern and then working them together by hand to create a design. This was the way they created their famous, if banal, argyle diamond patterns, but also how they made Fred, as well as a number of other extremely complicated designs. I’ve seen images of an intarsia design of Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party, for instance. It’s unclear to me how or where one would wear a sweater with that design, or with the puppies and kitties that adorn the women’s intarsia sweaters they sold at Berk in the Burlington Arcade, but for decades they were an exercise in uselessly extravagant, expensive fancy. About a decade ago they did a collaboration with Matthew Williamson that did a good job modernizing the intarsia designs by juxtaposing the diamond pattern with odd slogans and vaguely Gothic images. I wear Fred once or twice a year just for the hell of it. I wouldn’t wear white tie as often

But Fred’s dead, baby. Ballantyne’s history under Charme is something between a sad postscript, a mismanagement case study, and a star going supernova before collapsing in on itself into a black hole. After Charme acquired Ballantyne, it tried to raise the Ballantyne profile from its rather dusty place in the pantheon with broad retail pushes in high-end department stores and new Ballantyne shops on Bond Street, in Notting Hill and in Aoyama that showcased the Ballantyne knitwear in a host of new designs along with clothing and accessories that appeared intended to copy the success of Italian knitwear brand Brunello Cucinelli, which made its name by making excellent cashmere and now uses that name to sell passable branded clothing. It appears that not enough shoppers were ready to pay premium cashmere prices for fashion-forward designs, or to welcome yet another expensive fully-formed clothing brand, and those shops and that push dissolved away. Charme also relaunched the McGeorge brand (which had come over with Ballantyne) to sell Chinese-made cashmere under the label “McGeorge: A Division of Ballantyne,” which created a bit more confusion among shoppers about the value of made-in-Scotland cashmere and about Ballantyne’s role in McGeorge. It may have intended to use the Chinese-made McGeorge line to support the Ballantyne line, but McGeorge disappeared again too.

Some years later, Charme separated the right to use the Ballantyne brand name from the former Ballantyne production facilities in Innerleithen, which it spun off as HJ & JB 1788 Cashmere. Charme entered into a joint venture where Brooks Brothers, Charme and Massimiliano Zegna Baruffa would hold interests in HJ & JB 1788 Cashmere: Zegna Baruffa would supply the yarn, and HJ & JB 1788 Cashmere would make cashmere clothing for Ballantyne and for Brooks Brothers, as well as on its own account under the Braemar label. HJ & JB 1788 Cashmere went out of business a year or two later in 2010 when an unnamed major customer (whose initials probably include “B”) placed far fewer orders than expected. It went into liquidation, but one manager bought the bits and resuscitated operations with many of the same staff on a smaller scale under the name Caerlee Mills. Caerlee continued to make for Ballantyne, as well as for a few other labels, with the same level of quality as before. Ballantyne appeared to still have some control over Caerlee Mills’ operations, however, and at the end of this March, following a drop in orders from Ballantyne, Caerlee Mills also went into liquidation. Its facilities, in use in some form since 1788, are now silent. There is talk of opening a heritage center on the site describing – eulogizing ‑ Innerleithen’s role in Scottish industry, particularly in cashmere. Ballantyne itself has shifted production to a factory in Umbria, Italy, although pictures and keywords from its Scottish past are all over its website. A few other Scottish knitters remain active, the largest to my knowledge being Johnstons, although I’ve seen good Johnstons and mediocre Johnstons. Lockie and Hawick Cashmere are both good, as of course is Laing, but none of the Scots now makes the classic model of sweater I’d sought in the classic quality I’d wanted. Nor does anyone else have the same expertise in intarsia design. So Fred stands alone, in midair, forever about to jump off into a bygone ether.

True to my cynical thesis about heritage brands, the site of the now completely Italian-made Ballantyne states, “Wearing Ballantyne means sporting the history of cashmere.” It may be history, Luca, but not the heritage of the Ballantyne you bought, because you’ve burned that down and pissed on the ashes.

‑Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

The Cordovan Tanned Belt

2013-05-04T07:01:00.000-07:00

Begin with the carefully selected hides of young bulls, tan them in Italy for deep saturated color and then hand polish to a lustrous shine. That gives my cordovan tanned belts the finish of shell but the larger hide of the cow means the strap can be a single piece instead of the three pieces that are sewn together to make a horsehide belt.

Each feather edged strap is Nubuck lined so they wear more comfortably than single layered belts. They are 1/4" (35mm) wide with a nickel buckle and offered in black, brown, and cognac. Not as waterproof as shell but a better looking belt. Who gets their belt wet anyway?

Introducing the cordovan tanned belt at the ASW Haberdashery.

Blend Summer Whites

2013-05-03T07:01:00.000-07:00

Summer is the best season for pale skinned men like myself to wear white shirts, as a bit of tan eliminates the propensity white has to make us look sallow (guys who are lucky enough to be perpetually tan can wear white effectively year round).

The best way to wear white shirts in their best season in my opinion is to reduce the contrast by wearing them with accessories that are also partly white. In the photograph, a fresco suit with light gray in the weave, summer necktie in maroon and white Shantung silk, Columbine handkerchief by Simonnot-Godard and a white shirt from Carlo Riva Lino Arsenal cloth. The observer's eye notices but never stops moving up towards the face.

I Had To See It To Believe It

2013-05-02T07:01:00.000-07:00

I went to see Joe Hemrajani of MyTailor.com yesterday on one of his triannual visits to San Francisco. In addition to being a font of tailoring information, Joe attends the Premiere Vision fabric show in Paris each fall and never seems to fail to come away with something new. On this occasion we were having one of our rare hot days in the City and I noticed that he was wearing a seven ounce/200 gram (that is shirting weight) buggy lined jacket. When I asked how wrinkle resistant it was, he removed it, rolled it into a ball and unrolled it to show me that it was still wearable. After a conversation about lightweight textiles and my scepticism towards them generally, he happened to mention that he had an all-cotton seven ounce seersucker that was equally unlikely to crease. This I have to see thinks I, having worn wrinkled seersucker for most of my life. Sure enough, unlike the stuff I have worn, the sample could be crumpled in your hand and emerge unscathed. So in the interest of science I asked him to make me an unlined shirt jacket (a safariana sans belt) from the stuff. Watch this space three months from now.

How I Choose Socks

2013-05-01T07:01:00.000-07:00

I like to wear socks that match my trousers from time to time, but in my opinion that unvaried look is for when all else fails. I prefer combinations of trousers, socks and shoes that have contrast as well as things in common. Pattern next to solids, or next to a pattern of a different scale. Lighter next to darker. Colors that are similar enough for one eye to pass over them, but different enough for another eye to linger.

Choosing my socks requires about about as much thought as I give my necktie:

-I believe that most socks should be patterned, for most shoes and trousers are solids.

-Most of those patterns should be small so as to support some color variation without departing from reasonably conservative business dress. Herringbones, pin stripes and small checks, for example. The more visible the pattern the closer the color ought to be to the adjacent trousers.

-With odd jackets sock patterns can be larger when the jacket pattern is larger. Argyle socks were invented to wear with odd jackets.

-Solid socks, and here I am including ribbed varieties in the solid category, are better when they are different in tone from the accompanying trousers. Grayed blues and grayed browns complement blue and brown trousers respectively. More adventurously, dark green is almost unobtrusive next to dark gray, and purple is a quiet complement to navy blue.

-Textures such as linen or combinations of silk and cashmere or cotton and silk can be anther kind of visible contrast. When wearing them I keep the colors of my socks and trousers closely related.

For the photograph I chose cotton socks in a pearl gray herringbone to accompany taupe twill trousers and a pair of bottle green suede house shoes.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

2013-04-30T07:01:00.000-07:00

When an odd jacket is too casual for whatever reason, a glen check like that worn by the late Duke of Windsor in the photograph makes perhaps the best year-round travel suit for planes, trains, automobiles and ships. A tweed can work well in the cool at 35,000 feet, for example, but the real thing is going to be be insufferable in an over-heated train or automobile compartment. A 10 ounce/300 gram worsted glen check on the other hand wears well in the full spectrum of climate controlled environments where one is not exposed to extremes of temperature in either direction.

It is of course not only the weight that makes a glen check a good choice for travel or we would be discussing mid-weight suits as a class. In common with many odd jackets but unlike most other suitings worn for business today, the glen check was once a country cloth and so less formal than the pinstripes, birdeyes and pick and picks of city dress. The restrained pattern of the Duke's check is the descendent of much louder faux Scottish tartans in flannel or tweed (there were no actual Scottish clans that wore them - they were instead adopted by the English who acquired estates in the North and wanted a pattern they could call their own for themselves and their staff). The result is a look that is appropriate for a Friday suit in the city, the racetrack in the country and any conveyance in between.

And In The End

2013-04-29T07:01:00.000-07:00

In the end I wore the usual stuff to dinner last week. A white shirt, navy blue jacket and gray trousers are about as fail-safe as a man can get. Just add a silver bow tie and, when in Beverly Hills before sunset, amber sunglasses.

A Debt We Owe

2013-04-28T07:01:00.000-07:00

Some time ago, I recall seeing a Googled image of Alan Flusser at one of the springtime Pitti Uomo shows, year unknown. He was wearing a single-breasted madras sport coat, white dress shirt worn untucked, blue shorts, and red driving shoes. I don’t recall what site I was on, but a reader made the following comment: “Well, there goes the last bit of credibility Flusser may have had.”

In my book, this is a no-no. Not Flusser’s outfit, but the comment it generated. Am I daring to curtail the sanctity of free speech here? Within the confines of ‘Our Thing’, you bet I am. Flusser, for reasons I’ll enumerate, deserves a certain amount of our respect.

When Gambino underboss Neil Delacroce was still living, he was always berating (then) caporegime John Gotti and his crew for badmouthing boss Paul Castellano behind his back. “You guys don’t understand Cosa Nostra,” he would say. “In Cosa Nostra, the boss is the boss is the boss.”

Gotti didn’t learn his lesson. He was eventually forced to kill Castellano, so he wouldn’t be killed by Castellano. The problem was, instead of replacing Castellano with someone just as competent or more so, Gotti replaced Castellano with himself.

Let’s not go down the same path.

Flusser is much more than just a haberdasher; he is an educator as well as a booster for the entire upper-end of the menswear luxury market. In the eighties, through his shops, his writings, and his now legendary wardrobe work on the movie Wall Street, he almost single-handedly created a menswear renaissance of the type that had not been seen since the 1930’s. Going far beyond merely creating an interest in his own brand, he turned men on to similar artisans the world over. If that weren’t enough, he can also take a great deal of credit for a gigantic spillover effect: once he educated men to dress a certain way, they started coordinating the rest of their lives to match. Fountain pens, good watches, fine cigars, food, wine, furniture, houses, etc. I remember the seventies. Trust me, there really was a thing called a pre-Flusser world, and it wasn’t pretty. I remember having to travel to New York just to buy an all-cotton dress shirt. Now it is true that Ralph Lauren played a significant role in this renaissance, but believe it or not, in menswear his was actually a slightly watered-down contribution. A Johnny Walker Red on the rocks, say. Flusser was the Laphroaig 18 year-old, a single-malt scotch straight from the bottle.

If it weren’t for Flusser, I never would have heard, in the pre-internet world, of Milanese shops such as Tincati, Bardelli, or Doriani; English makers such as Drake’s; or the fabled Rubinacci’s of Naples. I wouldn’t have cashmere sweaters in my closet from Pringle’s in Scotland or Tie Your Tie in Florence. I wouldn’t have the Peal shoes I wrote about in ASW last year. And I wouldn’t have a wardrobe of still-treasured items that are aged in decades, rather than mere years.

Among a certain group of men, ‘Flusserite’ is an actual word. And when I jokingly introduce one Flusserite to another by saying, “This is so-and-so, a friend of ours from such-and-such,” never once have I gotten a strange look. They just laugh. They each see the way the other guy is dressed, and know exactly what I’m talking about.

If it weren’t for Flusser, I wouldn’t be able to explain what a drape suit is. I wouldn’t be able to tell you who Anthony J. Drexel Biddle was. I wouldn’t have acquired the knowledge to eventually become a free-lance menswear designer. And I probably wouldn’t be getting paid to write about men’s fashion.

I remember fondly my first interview with Flusser, for a sales position in his first New York shop. I was only nineteen or twenty, and I was wearing what I thought at the time to be a nice outfit: a double-breasted gray nails-head Belvest suit I’d purchased from Barney’s New York, with the inch and a quarter trouser cuffs that were then the rage among all the Barney’s salesmen. The shirt and tie I’d gotten from Barbas Bibas in Milan, yet strangely enough, on that day I took greatest pride in wearing a simple, white, linen pocket square with hand-rolled edges. What young man would have the presence of mind to show such restraint? What nineteen year-old would even know what a ‘hand-rolled edge’ was? Surely Flusser would be impressed. But it was clear within the first 15 seconds of sitting down that I wasn’t going to get the job; the vibe in the air was just that heavy. For the sake of politeness we had to go through the motions of a normal interview, but something had ticked him off. Something in the area of my ankles, because that’s where he kept staring. As I rose to leave, he apparently couldn’t stand it any longer. Some thirty years later, I still remember his exact words:

“Barry, I offer this just as an aside: those cuffs have NOTHING to do with men’s fashion!” (Flusser is that rarest of rare persons: he speaks EXACTLY the same way he writes)

It’s important for you to know something. I was an extremely hot-headed young man, had no fear of authority, and was easily impressed by no one. I’ve yelled at cops, chewed out my law school professors, told off judges I’ve clerked for, and threatened to punch one of my college French instructors in the mouth (he was from Paris, and his arrogance was, as white girls in Manhattan put it, just beyond). The surest way to put me to sleep is to point out a movie star walking down the street. What constitutes fame to the rest of the world, to me, means less than nothing. The cast of The Jersey Shore reality series is ‘famous,’ yet their collective intelligences don’t add up to the wit of a single cardboard target-practice dummy.

But this was different. This was Alan Flusser. In terms of aesthetics, it was like being in the presence of Michelangelo; from a viewpoint of a zero margin for mistakes, it was like being in the room with Carlo Gambino. This was the capo di tutti capi—the boss of bosses. I wasn’t even a made guy at that point. I was what the cheap newspapers disdainfully referred to as an ‘associate.’ I had to take my dressing down, and like it.

Now, if a young hot-head like I was could keep his mouth shut in the presence of the Skip, the rest of you guys can do the same. Show the man the respect he is due. In ‘This Thing of Ours,’ you can’t actually get clipped for bad-mouthing the boss. But if you insist on killing Flusser off, who the heck would you replace him with? I remind you that Thom Browne is our John Gotti.

God forbid.

Words and photo by Barry Pullen

One Of A Kind

2013-04-27T08:33:00.000-07:00

Featured on the ASW store this week are three limited edition silk jacquard braces by England’s Albert Thurston. Quietly elegant, they complement a suit or a dinner jacket.

Y ou are unlikely to ever see another pair of braces like these. Each beautifully executed design is limited to 500 pair worldwide and ours are constructed to the highest specifications. That means they are sized, so they fit better than ‘one size fits some’ models, and they are made the traditional way with wool lining for the straps, white leather covered ends and hand stitched button tabs.

See them and a selection of other items in New Arrivals.

Lifestyle: Insignia

2013-04-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

You know a wine is iconic when its name is detached from all other references. California wine connoisseurs simply state Insignia without including Joseph Phelps Winery, the same way that Bordeaux collectors see no need to utter the word Rothschild when saying Lafite, nor do the Champagne cognoscente need any other word but Cristal.

It takes years of consistent and rarefied quality to reach that plateau. In America, the time machine is always in overdrive so Insignia, whose first vintage was 1974, has achieved its status in a more compressed time frame than Chateau Lafite-Rothschild, whose history is in centuries, or Cristal whose fame is linked to the Russian Czars.

In the 1960s, Joe Phelps was the CEO of a national construction company that built Souverain Winery in Napa Valley. Smitten by the then farm-filled valley, the Coloradian Phelps purchased a 600-acre cattle ranch in Napa Valley in 1969 and began transforming it into a vineyard. The early Insignia red wines were produced from purchased grapes, and contracted growers continued to be an integral part of Insignia until recently.

Insignia has always been primarily a cabernet sauvignon-based wine. Depending on vintage, it will include some combination of Bordeaux’s other grapes: merlot, cabernet franc, petit verdot and malbec. This was happenstance in its first few years, but Phelps quickly decided that Insignia would be a blended wine. Without realizing it, Phelps set Insignia on a course that was normal for Bordeaux: use the best grapes the vintage gives you. Until Insignia was created, Napa Valley wines were varietal driven, and most remain so today.

In March, Bill Phelps, who was 14-years old when his father purchased the Napa Valley property, came to New York to present a historical tasting of Insignia. Now a retired lawyer and president of the family winery, Phelps began with the 1976 and concluded, 11 vintages later, with the current 2009.

The 1976 vintage was a very hot and dry year. It was the second of a three year drought in Napa Valley, and the lack of water concentrated the grape’s flavors. Thirty-seven years later, the 1976 Insignia retains its black fruit character with the green bell pepper accent that was normal at that time for Napa’s cabernet sauvignon. Aging has given it an appealing caramel and muted maraschino cherry-flavored finish. It is 94 percent cabernet sauvignon and 6 percent merlot.

The 1976 Insignia was a walk down memory lane. Since that time, Napa Valley viticulture, winemaking, and even the rootstock and grape clones have changed. I found it a pleasure to be reintroduced to a style I always liked. The 1976 rarely appears in the auction market; I found only six sales since 2006, and prices ranged from $250 to 500 dollars a bottle.

The 1980s were represented by two unimpressive wines: 1985 and 1987. However, the 1990s contained four expressive wines beginning with 1991’s black cherry colored-and-flavored wine. The vintage itself has never had much of a reputation, but you can find well-made, pleasure-filled wines like the 1991 Insignia. Its low profile is the buyer’s advantage in the auction market where this wine usually brings the hammer down at under $125 a bottle. The blend is 80 percent cabernet sauvignon, 10 percent each merlot and cabernet franc.

The 1994, 1997 and 1999 are the flip side of the 1991 coin. They are three great years, the best of the decade, and the best since Napa’s legendary 1974 vintage.

If you own 1994 Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon-based wines you are fortunate. The wines are beautifully balanced with blackberry fruit aromas and flavors and integrated tannins. The 1994 Insignia possesses those qualities as well as a slight coffee, and hint of tobacco, in the nose. Just short of its second decade, it is still vibrant, and with proper cellaring will please for another 10 years. It appears regularly in the auction market, fetching $175-200 per bottle. The blend is 88 percent cabernet sauvignon, 10 percent merlot and 2 percent cabernet franc.

It is difficult to generalize differences in great Napa vintages; for my palate, 1997 is a little richer, more “Californian” than 1994. But then again, is it a little richer, or is it just three years younger and the fruit is more lively? Not unlike comparing older and younger siblings.

What is clear is the 1997 Insignia has a distinct tobacco and cigar box nose, a scent I love in wines and detest in smokers. It has a cornucopia of ripe black fruit and firm, but not aggressive tannins. Put the 1997 Insignia into a decanter for an hour before serving it. Like the 1994, it is readily available in the auction market and commands $160-190 per bottle. The blend is 83 percent cabernet sauvignon, 14 percent merlot, and 3 percent petit verdot.

The 1999 is the last of the 1990s trifecta. It’s as boisterous as a college marching band. Using all five Bordeaux grapes, the 1999 Insignia is explosively aromatic. Blackberry and plum fruit aromas, and cedar and white pepper scents from 2-years aging in French oak barrels rise from the glass. Flavorful is a mild description for what crosses your palate: A tidal wave of ripe, rich fruit flavors with an undertow of tobacco tied together with youthful tannins. The 1999 Insignia is at once hugely structured and elegantly proportional. Cellaring it isn’t even questionable; wondering when it will peak is.

The 1999 Insignia is available at retailers, but buy with caution as you do not want a bottle that has been sitting for years in a brightly lit, 70 degree store, where employees and shoppers have been jarring the bottle. Expect to pay about $150-175 retail. The auction market is a better price value at $100-130; ask the auction house for the bottle(s) provenance before bidding. The 1999 Insignia is 71 percent cabernet sauvignon, 21 percent merlot, 6 percent petit verdot, and 1 percent each malbec and cabernet franc.

We tasted five vintages from this Millennium: 2001-02-07-08-and 2009. Obviously, all five wines are lively, fruit-filled pre-mature wines. Some people like to drink young wines, but I suspect that’s due to not having a cellar. Aerating the 2001 and 2002 in a decanter for an hour or two will soften the tannins and mellow the pungent black cherry and blackberry flavored fruit. Both wines are balanced and with a long, lingering finish, and the 2002 deposits a dollop of tobacco flavor on the way out. The 2002 was selected by the Wine Spectator magazine as the Wine of the Year.

The 2001’s retail tag is $200-225; the 2002 is $250-300; caution is the word buying decade-old wines from retailers. At auction, the 2001 is $160-200; surprisingly, the 2002 is a better buy at $135-175.

The 2001 is 89 percent cabernet sauvignon, 8 percent petit verdot and 3 percent malbec. And the 2002 is 78 percent cabernet sauvignon, 14 percent merlot, 7 percent petit verdot and 1 percent malbec.

The last three wines in the tasting were the 2007-08-and 2009. All are from highly rated Napa Valley vintages. Wines in their infancy are best described as being balanced or not, with the not part being explained. There are no nots in these three young Insignias. The fruit is abundant, the new oak accent obvious without being off-putting. Only the 2008 showed an excessive alcohol aroma and taste, which was the only wine to do so of the dozen in the tasting-- no small accomplishment in today’s New World winemaking.

These three wines were also the beginning of Insignia being 100 percent estate-grown grapes, some of which are from vineyards being farmed biodynamically. The three wines are at least 83 percent cabernet sauvignon, and the other two grapes are merlot and petit verdot. Retailers are offering the 2007 from $200-225; 2008 is $135-150; and 2009 $150-160.

The Insignias of the 1990s, and the 2001-2002, show these three young wines will require cellaring until 2020 for the flavors to develop, the tannins to mellow, and the complexity of Insignia to speak for itself, something Insignia has been doing exceedingly well for nearly four decades.

Words by John Foy