The Man From Maine

I live in a place that experiences an honest-to-God, snow and ice winter every year. On of the best garments I've ever owned to combat the attendant cold temperatures of January was a pair of flannel lined khakis from L.L.Bean. My old pair was a little to big for me, but they were so warm I wore them anyway. For shoveling or sledding with the wee ones, they can't be beat. Alas, I recently spilled a big whiff of olive oil on them, and the stain has proved impossible to remove.

These pants had been such a good thing to own, I was fully prepared to pay full retail for a new pair. I may be a self avowed cheapskate, but I think $50 is more than a fair price for nice looking warm pants. Then, just in the nick of time, what should find me but these:

A vintage pair, in my size, $4.89

The flannel is a nice shade of dusty orange, and at least twice as thick as the flannel in my first pair.

Serious vintage L.L. Bean. How long has it been since they switched from this old script logo? Maybe Heavy Tweed Jacket can come out of the woodwork and give us a short history lesson on these.

Best of all, they have a really trim cut, short in the legs with no break. The cut, plus the logo, plus the weight and quality of the cotton leads me to date these pants in the 60's or 70's.

They have a kind of funny, asymmetrical placement to the belt loops. Kind of reminds of the old the cut of the old thread-bare Dickie's my grandfather was so fond of. Note how well they go with the vintage buffalo plaid wool Chippewa pop-over I purchased a while back.

Red wool socks and Bean gum shoes are, of course, de riguer. Too bad I didn't have some lumber to split or something.

p.s. I know I've been known to rail against the current trend in work wear as fashion, and this outfit flies in the face of that. It's not the clothes I have a problem with, it's the millionaire price tags...the clothes are actually pretty cool, on occasion.

Make Minor Repairs

Resourcefulness is one of the hallmarks of a hardcore cheapskate thrifter. Things get broken sometimes. Lots of people throw them out when this occurs. Some of us t at least attempt a repair first. What's the harm? Either you pull it off, or you don't, but you're none the worse for trying.

In the last post, we discussed pressing a suit jacket at home. In this one, we'll fix a tiny hole. I bought these bullet proof yet velvet soft Polo flannels about a year ago. They're pleated, and as such I needed to talk myself into wearing them, but I'm glad I did. This winter, they've become my pants of choice on a bone chilling day. Totally windproof, and stylish to boot. (pretty snappy with yellow socks and black tassels, no?). But as they sat in storage over the Summer, our old friend the moth treated himself to wee bit of this fine wool. I'll be honest, I've worn these pants a bunch of times with the hole in them, I like them so much. It was only a small hole, after all. Today I repaired them myself.

This close-up shot of the bottom of the right leg reveals said hole. See it? Just barely visible about an inch above the cuff, in a photo taken with a macro lens. In real life, you'd never notice it, if it weren't for my penchant for wearing bright socks.

The repair I performed was quite simple really. I took a small clipping of fabric from inside the waistband, where it wouldn't be missed, and sewed it inside behind the hole. The trick lies in the way I stitched it. A while back, when I figured out how to hem pants, I learned that in order for the stitches not to show through, you simply pick up a bit of the threads on the surface of the cloth, and don't pull the stitches too tight. I applied the same principle here.

On the outside, I ran a couple of light stitches in matching grey thread, just to better attach the patch piece. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

When I worked in a men's shop, we offered re-weaving as a service. We would send garments to this place in New York, the last of its kind, as far as I know, where a moth hole this size (approximately 1/4 inch around) could be re-woven for about $50-$100, depending on the cloth. The work these old guys did was mind boggling, and I've even heard people have been known to go blind doing it...but $50 to fix a tiny hole in a pair of pants that only cost $8 in the first place is more than a little extravagant.

The moral of the story?: teach yourself to fix things. If your grandmother is still living, ask her about it...she'll tell you. And learn to embrace a reasonable amount of shabbiness in your dress. It'll set you aside as a man of style and character...as long as you don't push it and wear things shabby on purpose.

Besides, perfection is over-rated. There's not much soul in it.

The Hard Press (re-fitting a 3/2 roll)

Being a cheapskate is no game for the lazy. In order to do it to the hilt, you've got to know how to do a lot of things for yourself that non-cheapskate types readily pay someone else to do. What follows is a brief lesson .

You may remember this navy suit with white stripes, recently acquired in the infamous $30 haul of 2009:

Pressed into what I call a "hard" three button stance, that is, with the lapel "rolled" to the top button. Personally, I prefer what is known as "3/2 roll", that is, a three button jacket rolled to the middle button, or a two button stance. I suspect this suit actually was made this way. Here's why.

On the face side of the jacket, the top button is somewhat unfinished. Compare it with the lower two:

On the inside, it is fully finished, as opposed to the lower two,

I take this to mean that this top button was meant to be seen from the inside, rather than the outside. It's funny, really. A 3/2 roll is one of the hallmarks of so-called "trad" menswear. One of the other hallmarks of "trad" is its supposed separateness from fashion, yet here we have a completely superfluous detail, meant only really to be superfluous. Look at your old Brooks Brothers...that third button hasn't been intended for use in decades.

But I digress. So, how to "re-set" the appropriate button stance for this jacket? It's simple, really. All you need is a common household steam iron, an ironing board, and a little bit of know-how.

First, lay the jacket out on the board, with the lapel laying completely flat. You'll notice a crease along the line of the roll of the lapel.

Holding the iron just above the cloth, apply liberal steam, until the old crease is as completely removed as possible.

In order for the lapel to sit correctly, a slight bit of creasing is required. "Roll" the lapel back so that it sits on the middle button,

then, with the iron just above the cloth, apply liberal steam to the top of the lapel, right where it meets the jackets collar. Be sure not to press to hard near the buttons. This will insure that the lapel sits on the second button, while maintaining a soft roll, rather than a hard fold.

The finished product should look something like this.

Of course, any tailor or dry cleaner worth his chemicals will know how to do this, too. Once, I brought a J.Press navy blazer to the Lee's for cleaning. I said to Mrs. Lee something like "I know it's three button, but when you press it...", to which she interrupted something like " I know, like a two button." She sounded a pinch insulted that I should even mention it. That was the day I really knew the Lee's were running a serious shop.

It was also the day I decided I ought to know how to do this myself.

Give it a try. It's only pressing. If you mess it up, you can always bring it in and have it straightened out.

Happy New Year!

We've all got our traditions...
A few years ago, I established a big plate of sushi, a bottle of proper small label, grower produced Champagne, and a quiet evening at home involving heavy use of the sofa and television as my New Year's tradition...ah, the simple pleasures.

To all my readers, many thanks for your support and comments. Here's wishing each of you the best in 2010.

Sale Alert!

Building the affordable wardrobe isn't, and shouldn't be, entirely about scouring thrift stores for fantastic treasures at unheard-of prices. An eye for a good sale is just as useful a skill to cultivate. Right now, Lands End has some cracking good deals, especially in men's shirts. Today, I nabbed a pair:

this cotton broadcloth point collar shirt is on sale for $9.99, down from its usual $34.50. Also available in some other pretty good patterns. Who can't use another hard-wearing blue oxford? This number, in non-non-iron, heavy weight broadcloth, is only $19.50, down from $29.50.

Plus, you can get free shipping by using the promo code 'value' and the pin # 3234 if you order by 31 December. I know it's short notice, but I only just found the catalog in the mail today...and no, I'm not a paid shill for Lands End. I just think they've got some bargains going right now that you, dear readers, ought to be aware of.

L.L.Bean has a navy blue wax cotton down jacket on sale for $34.95 in their print catalog, but I'll be damned if I can find it on the website. Much as I dig it, I'm going to pass, being currently in no real need of more down or waxed cotton, but some of you might be interested, so here's a scan of the print catalog page:

there...in the middle of the bottom row...see it?...$34.95 marked down from $119...oh, cripes, I may just buy it yet....

La Colazione

My Dad is as much of a food junkie as I am. For Christmas, he gave a package of goodies from our local Italian grocer. Included was a jar of Sicilian anchovies, in olive oil, with hot red pepper:
Damn, were these things spicy! But awfully delicious, to. I ate them in a simple manner, atop a bed of baby spinach, dressed only in some of the oil from the jar, alongside a piece of leftover lasagne and a tall glass of old lady soda.

Consumed mid-day, wearing the Kiton brown moleskin pants from yesterdays post.

What more could a third-hand Italian kid want?

Treasure Trove

Every now and again, the fates reward the persistence of the unstoppable thirft shopper with a full blown treasure trove. The following is practically a photographic essay of the truffles to be sniffed out in these so-called "junk shops".

Remain seated, stay calm, and prepare to witness the work of a master (you know, not to blow my own horn or anything):

Pink and white check button down shirt by Ben Silver,
Navy and wite gingham shirt, vintage 1960's,

rendered in real Viyella,

soft-as-anything grey plain front grey flannel trousers (note the brown horn buttons...a nice touch)

by Paul Stuart,

heavy weight velvety moleskin trousers in a shade of chocolate brown that my camera will not do justice,

by Kiton for Barneys New York,

some kind of no-name cotton blend twill trousers in a pale blue. The color may perhaps be a bit dated, but I think these will look swell with pennies and no socks, a white tennis shirt and navy blazer,

besides, they came with this zesty little belt. Note the faint hint of matching pastel blue in the weave...and real tan leather, too. Remember when casual slacks always came with a matching cloth belt?

Let's take a breather. There, feel better? Good, because I ain't finished yet.

1980s vintage two button tweed sack jacket with patch pockets,

cut from one hell of a piece of hard wearing wool,

from some brothers I heard of once or twice,

Navy wool suit with white stripes, 3/2 sack (in need of pressing) with three button cuffs,

1970s vintage, judging by the top pockets on the trousers, Cricketeer, an old line produced by Joseph and Feiss, for Kennedy's, and old Boston men's shop my grandfather frequented.

a genuine "Raeford Luxury Worsted". What's not to love?

Lastly, a British influenced grey flannel suit with faint windowpane plaid,

complete with ticket pocket, side tab trousers, no belt loops (only brace buttons), and forward pleats,

and even side vents. A bit out of character for me, perhaps, but much to nice to pass on.

by Country Britches for G. Fox & Co. of Connecticut. That purple lining ain't half bad neither.

Total cost of the entire haul: $30.

Yeah, you heard me. ..told you I was the master.