All in the Timing

For the last few years, I have been happy to attend a Robbie Burns Supper at a club in Boston at the invitation of a good friend. I've worn a suit of Black Watch, and tuxedo with a Royal Stewart blazer swapped in for the standard diner jacket. This year's supper was held last Friday, but I wasn't sure if I would attend. Then only last Wednesday, I found the above jacket, at a thrift shop of course, for a mere $7.99.

A dinner jacket in Dress Gordon, with broad silk faced shawl collar and silk edged pockets, likely 1940s vintage, in excellent shape, and exactly my size.

Rendered in old Viyella. Honestly, a tartan dinner jacket is one thing, but a Viyella dinner jacket?!?! Unheard of. Just in time I guess.

In the end, I didn't go to Burns Supper this year after all, opting instead to end a long day of hard work and ring in the weekend with a pizza dinner with the wife and kids. But Scots Wha Hae and all that nonetheless.

p.s. I have some great new listings on ebay, ending next Sunday, 1 Feb. Check it out.

Winter White (or, the Vintage Look, sans Vintage)

Allow me to apologize for the blatant cell phone photography. Not up to my usual standard, but until I get this blog up to something like full speed again, we'll have to take what we can get.

Back in October, I happened to stumble across a pair of cream colored heavy flannel trousers in a thrift shop, for less than $10. Nice as they were, I didn't really have any need for them. If we're being totally honest, in modern times the idea of having a "need" for something like cream flannel pants is downright ludicrous anyway. Still, not two weeks after finding them I was to attend an event at Ralph Lauren in Boston for the release of the more than a little preposterous coffee table book "Rowing Blazers", and the invitation specified "regatta attire requested", whatever that means. So I now had an excuse. Score one for justification.

So with the event now behind me, what to do with the silly pants? Wear them, I guess, in January. And so unfolds my first foray into winter white.

Up top, things are somewhat quiet. A heavy cashmere navy blazer (trade), stripes tie by Robert Talbott (trade), and contrast collar shirt by Kenneth Gordon ($5.49) would be classic if a bit unremarkable with a charcoal flannels and dark brown tassel loafers. But instead, cream flannels, because I have them...

The pants are hey-day era Polo, with a high waist, deep forward pleats, brace buttons, full cut legs and big cuffs.

If you're going to wear pants like this in the modern world, you'll have to adopt something of a spirit of "go big or go home". To that end, dirty white bucks, with cream yellow socks,seemed the only logical footwear choice. Going "all the way", as the kids say, I topped the whole thing with a Polo polo coat, floppy tweed cap, and vintage inspired sunglasses. Sometimes it's fun to go to the hilt. Of course, it helps if you work in an environment where this sort of thing is somehow acceptable. 

True, I have argued against the dangers of treading the fine line between wearing vintage and dressing in costume, and this time it's likely that I crossed that line. Funny thing is, even though this outfit screams of the 1920s, and every piece of it is second hand, none of it is actually all that old. I guess that speaks to the real meaning of "classics" in menswear.

In the end, the cream flannels may have been too much of a conversation piece, even for me. The last thing a gentleman wants is everybody talking about his pants, or something, right? On the other hand, go ahead, I dare you.

Get Ready

I heard that the Farmer's Almanac has predicted an unusually cold winter this year. Not that I neccesarily put much stock in the Farmer's Almanac, butI say bring it on. I've been preparing, and I'm ready. Are you?

Currently in the closet are some old friends and some recent off season acquisitions. Left to right: Vintage Southwick heavy wool twill in hunter green; vintage wool tartan jacket (great for Bobby Burns parties); Paul Stuart brown glen check with gold and burgundy overcheck; old custom cashmere large scale glen check with blue overcheck; Andover Shop Russell plaid heavy tweed; Brooks Brothers gun club check with open patch pockets; Andover Shop moss green tweed with orange, red, blue, and lavender check; Andover Shop brown tweed with burgundy overcheck; Norman Hilton brown color fleck herringbone; three piece cavalry twill suit. All acquired through thrift shops, ebay, or trade. 

Not bad for a broke cheapskate. Persistence pays off.

p.s. Looks like we have temps pushing 80 on the way this weekend. Good thing I kept the khakis and hopsack blazer in rotation.

Sunday Best

Recently good friend James of 10 Engines gave me this suit, straight out of his own closet, to do with what I could. It's the very definition of a stalwart classic, a charcoal grey single breasted suit in a three season worsted wool. It's been said that a man's suit is like armor, and this one bears that point out.

At first glance, it's a trad/ivy/preppy thrift shop/ebay score dream: a vintage 3/2 sack suit from the Brooks Brothers University Shop, likely late 1950s vintage. It's the kind of thing the trad/ivy fanatics dream of at night. But I won't be selling it. It's well worn, and in it's wear and tear lies a story and a soul.

The tips of the cuffs are worn through, and a few of the buttons are broken...

The trouser hems are frayed beyond repair, but check that old style big cuff on a narrow leg opening...

The edges of the trouser pockets have been beaten so hard in sixty or more years of active service that someone saw fit to have them reinforced with a grosgrain strip...

And a crotch worn straight through was at some time seen merely as a call for some old time thrifty repair rather than a ticket to the trash pile.

While this suits condition may render it useless to almost anyone, it has value in it's own way. Indeed, it's value lies in the very defects and repairs that make it an unsalable vintage piece. This suit speaks to a reality in the past that vintage fetishism tends to ignore, and it hints at a story that's worth bearing in mind, especially if you spend any amount of time hunting for and reusing old things.

In the strange world that is the online #menswear community, we tend to think of the Brooks Brothers of bygone days as something of a holy cathedral. It is viewed, along with a small handful of other old purveyors, as something of the supplier or royal armor to the knights of the #ocbd. And indeed, in most ways, it was. But there is another side to that story, and this suit is a strong piece of evidence.

What follows is all pure conjecture on my part, but I beg you hear me out. I think that the man who owned this suit didn't have a lot of good clothes, or a lot of money, but he did have values. He probably scrimped and saved in the late fifties to buy this suit, knowing that quality was worth the time and effort it took to earn it. He likely purchased this simple charcoal grey suit on virtue of it's versatility, usefulness, and probable longevity. It was probably his Sunday Best, and he probably wore it to every important occasion of his life for decades. He might have been eighteen when he bought it; he danced in it with his sweetheart at the Spring semi-formal; he wore it to his high school graduation; every holiday, every Sunday at church. He put it on for his grandmother's birthday that time they surprised her with a trip to the city for dinner in a fancy restaurant; he put it on to pick his wife up from the hospital after his son was born; he wore it to both of his parents funerals.

He wasn't a business man, definitely not a man who wore a suit all the time. Had he been that type, we wouldn't see either the wear or repair that we see on this suit. He appreciated the value in it since it's original purchase, and had it repaired as best he could every time it was needed by a little town tailor who was resourceful in his work. Despite the suit becoming increasingly ragged, he kept it clean and pressed, and every time he had occasion to wear it, that same sweetheart he danced with in the Spring semi-formal told him how handsome he looked in it.

Maybe that's all a bit maudlin, but I hope you see my point. In the romantic past, when everyone wore suits, even poor guys had to have some Sunday Best. In a very strong sense, I'd bet the guy who owned this suit valued it far more than any guy with a lot of suits values his clothes. It was his armor, his good clothes, and though it may have been a bit ragged, it wasn't any less of a grey Brooks Brother suit. Old clothes sourced from a thrift store are great for being well made quality things had for a fraction of their worth. But they also have a story and a soul. For some that's a turn-off, but for an inveterate cheapskate like myself, it's where the beauty in this lies.

NSV x Keikari

Keikari recently interviewed Zach De Luca of Newton Street Vintage. While it may seem odd for me to push for someone who is basically a competitor, Zach is a good friend and has plenty of insightful things to say about style, tradition, thrift shopping, and dressing well. Read the article here.

Rules of Thrifting : Develop Your Eye

I recently posted two rare and wonderful items for sale on Ebay, and while I like to keep the commercial aspect of things to a minimum around here, the provenance of both of these items speaks to a very important rule of thrifting that bears discussion here. Anyone can look through the obvious stuff, but it takes a seasoned pro to find things were they really don't belong, and "an eye" for this sort of thing can only come with practice and experience.

Pictured above is vintage men's dressing gown made of heavy but butter soft wool, made in England by Welch Margetson and Sons for Dunhill of New York, likely 1940s. I found this garment hidden in a rack of women's overcoats. As I passed by the rack, something about the finish of the cuffs and the piping at the lapel caught my eye, so I stopped to look. That extra minute was all it took. I might not have looked through an entire rack of women's coats, but practice has trained my eye to rest on little details that might yield a surprise result. Conversely, a rack of men's sleepwear is likely to have mostly, if not all, cheap flannel pyjama bottoms from Target and Old Navy. I'd love to keep it, and wear it with silk pyjamas and velvet slippers, but fancy house clothes and I don't mix, since I'm likely to be washing dishes, doing laundry, or some other mundane and potentially dirty task in them. Still, I hope it finds a lovely home (auction info here).

Not too much later I found this vintage flannel rowing blazer. I saw this hanging at the end of a rack of business suits in the women's department of another store. It's buttons had been replaced with some awful fake jewel buttons, and the sleeves had been "altered" by having the cuffs turned up and under about two inches and badly stitched on the inside. I took out the stitches, steamed the cuffs and sewed on some gold buttons I had laying around, which is what this jacket should have in the first place. I'm sad to see this one go, but I'm about two inches short for it and I don't think I'll be spending much time on a boat, or near one, any time soon. (auction info here).

I'm not suggesting that there's no organization in thrift shops, and certainly some are better than others, but it tends to be the more unusual garments, the ones with details that most normal people would assume are effeminate these days, that might wind up in the ladies clothes. The robe may look masculine enough in the photos I took, but its set in a very masculine context. The piping on the rowing blazer is not something common in menswear anymore, except in the most rarefied circles, and many of those folks aren't haunting the thrift shops. By the same token, brightly colored bits of silk may seem to most people like a women's accessory, but I find most of pocket squares in bins full of ladies scarves. For that matter, women's jacket styled like menswear often mix with the men's clothing in these places too.

The point here is to keep an open mind, and do what you can to develop a sharp eye for detail and imaginative shopping techniques. Sometimes the best garments are hidden in plain sight if you only just look for them.

Attachment

It's easy to accumulate too many things as a collector. Add to that being a thrift shopper and the possibility for crossing the line from collecting into hoarding comes dangerously close. Nowhere does this problem manifest itself more clearly than with neckties. Fortunately I still maintain a grip on the situation, if a very tenuous one, and I regularly cull my own tie collection, only to make room for more acquisitions.

This week, I was putting a number of my own ties up for sale in the web shop, when I came to this one and it gave me pause. It's a hunter green tie with woven orange motif of Manneken Pis, the (in)famous fountain in Brussels, Belgium (which amazingly has its own website). Nabbed for less than a dollar if I remember right in a dusty shop crammed with all manner of everything, it's made of a blend of mostly polyester and a whiff of silk. Mrs. G hates it, and I have never worn it. Still, at the last moment I couldn't bear to part with it.

It's amazing to me that not only did someone have this tie manufactured, but at some point somebody commissioned this fabric. Imagine the conversation at the mill. Incredible. I have to keep it, how can I let it go, really? C'mon.  It's likely that I'll rarely wear it, if at all. But things like this are necessary, if for no other reason than to offer an occasional reminder not to take my clothes, or myself, to seriously.

Sorry, Mrs. G.

Auld Lang Syne

I recently accepted a very last minute invitation to a Robbie Burns Supper. It was a lovely evening filled with friendly company and sparkling conversation, three holes of Caledonian golf (read, grown people playing mini golf indoors), haggis dinner, and of course, plenty of Scotch Whisky, all of it in a lovely setting representative of old Boston. Not a bad place to wear the trousers from a vintage tuxedo with a vintage tartan jacket and a dress shirt with a Marcella bib, cuffs, and detachable collar with a body in Black Watch. 

Thanks for the invitation, YWP (remember him?) Scots Wha Hae and Gie Her a Haggis!

A Good Suit

Last Saturday, my first customers in the shop were a boy, about twelve, and his dad. The boy wore sweats, a ball cap and sneakers, and the dad looked like, you know, a dad. My first thought was that maybe the dad was going to make the boy suffer through an awkward vintage shopping experience. But I was wrong.

Turns out, the boy needed an outfit for an upcoming school production of "Guys and Dolls". It just so happened that I had a recently acquired Brooks Brothers blue glen check suit in less than 36 short, likely from the boy's department anyway. Not exactly period correct, but the kid tried it on and the coat fit him like a glove. Trousers were good too, but for a bit big in the waist. I also had a small size grey fedora hat in stock, and offered to throw in a couple of vintage 1940s ties I had laying around if they bought the suit and hat.

"Well sir, do you need a new suit" said the dad. "Really?" said the boy, beaming. "It's a good suit. You'll even be able to wear it for a few years if someone gets married or something. I bet your mother would approve." I said. The dad bought the suit, the kid was happy, and I was reminded of the best reasons why I do what I do.

p.s. new stuff today in the Shop. Check it out.

Best of 2013

I may be a day late and a dollar short in my Happy-New-Year-2013-We-Hardly-Knew-Ya post, but so be it. As a hardened retail veteran, I've been working a lot these last few weeks, and I took most of the first to be lazy and have fun with the kids. Besides, regular readers know that I've never been one for the typical holiday posts, preferring not to write Happy (fill in the blank) just because thats whats done. We have enough of that everywhere we look these days. But 2013 was a big year for me and An Affordable Wardrobe, so this time out I feel a few words are in order.

January saw the launch of the infrequent series of posts called "Thrifty Kids", in which  I feature the thrift store finds that we (mostly Mrs. G) turn up for the children. Perhaps a bit too precious for some of you, but I do have some cute kids, who wear some cute clothes. February saw Boston get buried under some old school deep snow, and I wore my incredibly heavy vintage 1950s L.L. Bean black and red hunting pants for the first time. As I write this, the snow piles up outside and it looks like I'll be digging them out of the closet again tomorrow.

March saw some big hauls for the personal closet. In a matter of weeks, I acquired a cashmere navy blazer and a cashmere glen check jacket, both hand made for the same man by tailor Virgil Carducci of Manhattan. The two have become such frequent favorites that I find it hard to believe I've had them less than a year. That's good clothes for you. It was in those same weeks that I unearthed a killer tartan jacket that kept my mood festive throughout the hectic Christmas weeks.

In April someone told the internet at large  that "what's wrong with this country" has something to do with guys like me bringing folding chairs to watch our kids play soccer. No big deal. But May and June were the big ones. That's when I decided that the online store branch of AAW had outgrown my house, and I appealed to you through an Indiegogo campaign to help me move to a tiny version of brick and mortar. It was with your generous help that I was able to secure a small room above an Irish  pub, right near my home, to ply my trade in the second hand haberdashery business. I moved in early July and opened later that month. As though that weren't enough to keep any man busy, I was also privileged to be featured in a short film by some gracious students at Tufts Universirty, and we all got to revel in the gossip party that was the outing of "Richard" aka "WASP 101" in the now embarrassingly notorious muck-raking witch hunt that happened at Ivy Style. A busy Summer indeed.

As the year rolled on, so many other good things happened. The vintage tuxedo I'd been needlessly keeping in the back of the closet made an appearance, even if it was only as a Halloween costume, and one of the most personally rewarding transactions since starting my business involved yet another antique formal suit, and I closed the year with what may the best thrift store restoration project of my career as a cheapskate to date. And all of this is only a slice of the ways I've been blessed to be running this blog this past year. Looking back, it's been a lot of hard work and sweat, but I could't ask for better. It's been a great year at AAW, and I owe all of that to you, my readers, customers, family, and friends. Here's to a great 2014!

p.s. Don't forget the 20% off sale runs through Sunday 5 January, using discount code NEWYEAR2014 at checkout. Also good in the store Saturday, 4 January from 10-2. Stop by to say hi, and maybe have a Mimosa.

Happy Hallowe'en

I vant to suck your blood......

Vintage 1949 midnight blue 4x1 double breasted tuxedo with silk shawl collar and forward pleated trousers, tailored by Hickey-Freeman for F.R.Tripler of New York, $24.99, thrift shop; pleated Brooks Brothers formal shirt, $4.99, thrift shop; black (gasp) tassel loafers by W.S.Foster and Sons, made in England,  $9.99

BOO! Seriously, though, in these days, when the hell else am I going to get to wear something this awesome. Happy Halowe'en.

Reader Questions: The Middle Ground

Reader Rob writes:

Hi Giuseppe,

I've been reading your blog for at least a couple years now and I have to say I am still mystified by suits.  I think mainly from a lack of hands on experience.  I do my best to make a decent appearance, despite being a chronically underemployed recent college grad, but I the only real occasion to wear my solitary suit is funerals. 

What really has me stumped is the fit/cut trends.  I'd really like a well fitting conservative suit, but all I seem to see is the shapeless suits all the dads wore when I was a kid in the 90s and the ultraslim/too small fit that's currently trendy.  What do I need to look for or ask for to get at that middle ground?  Can you give me a rundown of the general evolution of these trends over the decades that I'd be likely to see thrifting? 

Rob's question speaks to on of the core issues that faces those of us who favor classic clothing when out thrift shopping : the avoidance of overt trend and fashion. This is true for wearers of classic styles who shop new as well, but doubly so in the world of thrift shopping as the fashions and trends one encounters are dated and passe. The photo above is a good example, showing many of the late 1980s styles that are currently represent a large portion of whats available second hand these days. Big shoulders, low button stance, and lots of pleats. It can be tricky finding something that works for you in such circumstances, but not impossible.

Truthfully, thrift stores can contain a wide range of cuts and styles from different decades. Trim cut 1960s jackets with razor thin lapels share space with broad lapeled polyester pieces from the 1970s , big shouldered 1980s clothes, bad full cut 1990s things, and even newer stuff. And a lot, if not most of it, is bad leftover stuff that wasn't good in the first place. So how does one find the middle ground between the too tight, too short, too small look of today and the "boxy" old stuff in the thrift shop.

As with so many questions in menswear, it all comes down to finding a good tailor. When you search the thrift shops, look for suits made of quality cloth in conservative colors like navy or grey with a moderate lapel. Knowing good brands is helpful, but not necessary. Remember that a good suit is a good suit, regardless of band, as much as a brand name can trick you into accepting something of lesser overall quality. Some of the best stuff to be had in a thrift store originally came from small local men's shops you may never have heard of. Try them on until you find one that fits well across the shoulders and chest, then have a good tailor alter them, taking in the sides if necessary and removing some of that undesirable boxiness. It will cost extra, but in the end you will have a better fitting good suit for a fraction of the cost of a new one. And don;t forget, some what we now call "boxiness" may actually just be proper shape. In our current climate of too small/too tight, anything with breathing room can look baggy. Being comfortable always looks better than holding in your breath.

Above all, be persistent. Thrift shopping well takes time and determination, but the payoff, when it comes, is always worth it.

Coupon

The AAW live Shop (perhaps "Showroom" is a better word) is now keeping regular, if scant, hours. If you're a Boston area local, print this coupon and receive 15% off your purchase. See you soon.

AAW Live

It is with the greatest pleasure and the humblest thanks that I proudly announce that An Affordable Wardrobe has a (soon to be) new home, located in a discreet second floor location in Davis Square, Somerville. Look for a live version of the Shop soon. As always,my undying thanks and gratitude go out not only to those who contributed to our recent crowdfunding campaign, but each and every one of you who have read and stuck with me these last five years. Here's to the next level,or "taking it to the bridge" as the kids used to say! Details to follow.

Horse Trading

Welcome to a new semi-regularly series called "Horse Trading". Zach of Newton Street Vintage and I  have a bad habit of trading most of our best things with each other, and this series will feature two part posts by each of us discussing the same trade. The first installment deals a very unseasonal polo coat, but it's a good place to start as it illustrates the only time where we both traded for different version of the same garment. Zach's post follows below, mine will come soon.

When Giuseppe and I team up for the markets, the wheeling and dealing starts before the clothes even leave the van. Actually, the wheeling and dealing usually starts while the clothes are being loaded into the van. Two clothes-mad menswear obsessives, a truck load of good vintage clothes, an East Cambridge old-man dive bar serving dollar 'Gansett, all the variables in the equation point to some serious sartorial commodities trading, and by "commodities" I mean stuff that 99% of the world considers old junk.

But if you're like us, and you know that the thrill of second-hand clothing involves a degree of serendipity that can't be found by throwing money around in retail chains, then you'll know that the art of the clothing trade is more than just a swap; it involves careful consideration of all the ways in which these clothes have value.

Before I wax too poetic about this I'll set the stage. G and I show up for the White Eagle Bazaar (at the aforementioned East Cambridge old-man dive bar) wearing nearly identical polo coats, both of which we thrifted, and neither of which were quite right for their wearers. Mine was an 80's  USA-Made Polo Ralph polo coat, with all the details that make a polo coat a polo coat, and big, broad sweeping peaked lapels that I love about all things Ralph does with peaked lapels. Trouble was, the sleeves were a bit short and it was a bit big through the middle. 

Giuseppe's coat was of older vintage, 60's Filene's, with with almost all the same details, only slightly shorter in the body than my Ralphie, with more conservative peaked lapels that curved with a bit more "belly" than Ralph's broad, straight peak. The Filene's also had a hooked vent, which I found to be a nice nod to 60s Ivy without looking too much like period costume.

Our usually frantic pre-market set-up was put on hold while we took turns trying on the coats and weighing the ins and outs of a potential trade. They both had roughly equivalent resale value, but Giuseppe's Filene's coat had more history to it. I liked the lapels on the Ralph but found the length on the Filene's to be better. The hooked vent was speaking to me, a detail that I hadn't seen on polo coats before. It came down to a matter of fit, and in the end G and I both came away with coats that fit us better than the ones we walked in with.

words and photos by Zachary De Luca

The Present

I've been switching out my Winter wardrobe for Spring stuff lately. As I said before, in 20 years little has changed, or rather things have come full circle. I still wear a version of that same outfit from the Summer when I was 16, only now its a bit more refined. Vintage Hathaway shirt, Italian silk ascot, Brooks Brothers khakis and ribbon belt, leather and mesh spectator loafers, and a USA made Polo blazer, all of it from thrift stores. The hat was a treat for myself bought new at the Andover Shop, though I did get for half price in the end of Summer sale.

I bet I still have something like this in the closet when I'm 80....unless even if we've all switched to silver space suits by then.

The Past

Cape Cod, Summer of 1993, age 16. Vintage 1940s double breasted jacket from the thrift store. Rubinacci shirt, silk ascot, straw hat and Ferragamo leather and canvas spectator shoes all from the late great Filene's Basement of Downtown Crossing in Boston.

20 years later, and some thing never change.

Thrifty Kids, Part 2

The Boy has a good sense of occasion, and always knows when to look his best. Like most six year old boys, he spends a great deal of time in t-shirts, jeans, and sweatpants, getting dirty as a boy should. But when it comes to dressing well, his tastes are particular. He tends to keep things classic, as we can see by his navy blazer, white shirt, and striped knit tie. The pearl grey Homburg hat is vintage 1960s, in unworn condition, a very small men's size. I initially purchased it to sell it, but when he insisted I let him keep it, there was no denying him.

Thrift shopping has a way of meeting your needs after a while if you stick with it. The boy is rapidly outgrowing his navy blazer, but I did turn up a better fitting jacket in  navy tweed with real leather buttons...

Made in USA by Brooks Brothers. $2.99 at an undisclosed thrift shop. Like father, like son.

Provenance

The "Continental" cut, broad shouldered with a full chest and low button stance, rendered in rich blue wool serge. An excellent example of the style, circa 1956.

Three open patch pockets, sewn on by hand, and old fashioned creased sleeves.

Roped shoulders, an Italian touch. This is, after all, Continental.

A ventless back, in keeping with the style, a skeleton lining and beautiful finish work on the seams.

The trousers are deeply pleated, with full cut legs that taper to large cuffs at the hems. Note the low set of the belt loops and exterior brace buttons.

From Jack Lipton of Boston.

A little while back, I received a phone call from a peppy octogenarian named Ina. She had seen me in the Boston Globe and wanted to know if I might be interested in looking at some menswear she was cleaning out of the attic. I scheduled a meeting and drove to her house a few days later.

As it turned out, my little girl was in tow for this particle "hunting trip". I prefer to do these things alone, but this time it just didn't work out. As we rang the bell and waited, my daughter clung to my leg in shyness. The door opened, and we were met by a sweet old lady in a dress, nylons, heels and pearls, fully made up at home. She melted at the sight of my girl, and the feeling was reciprocated. Young and old, fast friends at first sight.

Ina had dragged a bunch of her husbands things down from the attic. Having been ten years since his passing, her daughter had urged Ina that it might be time to let some of his things go. She was ready to clean out the house, but I could tell it had taken her some time to prepare. As my daughter enjoyed a cookie and milk in Ina's fantastically cute 1970s kitchen, I had a look at the clothes. There were a couple of good tweeds, some flannel pants, and this blue suit. Ina told me that this suit was the one her late husband Sydney wore at their wedding in 1956. Jack Lipton, as she recalls, was the place to go when you wanted something really special with a bit of European flair. For normal clothes, they shopped at Filene's. This suit was worn only a handful of times, and well kept. Sydney was an electrician, she explained, and rarely wore dress clothes. She was the one with the clothes madness, it seems. She picked out all of these duds for him, but old Sydney was game, and not afraid to wear her picks, not even the pink flannels.

We agreed on a price/consignment plan, but as I got ready to take the clothes out to my car, I could see her hesitate a bit. "You know, Ina", I said, "you don't have to sell me any of this stuff. If you're not comfortable with this, we don't have to do it. If I leave here empty handed, it's no difference to me. I don't want you to be unhappy about this."

She paused for a minute, looked up and said "It's o.k. I know his things will be in good hands with you."

"I promise to do what I can to find Sydney's clothes good new homes."

When we left, Ina gave my girl a hug, and my girl said "I love you, Ina." I swear to god, its a wonder we didn't all burst into tears on the spot.

In this line of work, I come across things in all sorts of random and crazy ways. But it's times like these, the people I meet and the stories they tell about the provenance of the clothes I handle, that really make this worthwhile. I often talk about the meaning that clothes have beyond the simple physical fact of what they are, and if this story doesn't illustrate that I don't know what will.

So, if you happen to wear a 42 short and have the confidence to carry off a sharply tailored mid-century Continental look in a well made garment that is in like new condition, consider this suit. Help me keep my promise to Ina.