The Office Aesthetic

With the Top Shelf Flea closing in fast, I find myself ever more in need of office supplies. As with everything, style is the utmost consideration. I place it well above functionality and modernity any day.


You may remember my typewritten oak tag business cards. They've been a real hit with people. Memorable and nostalgic, with the advantage of being a hand-made pain in the *ss. So I decided to have a rubber stamp made for the next batch. That plus the Carter's ink pad? Unstoppable. Turns out your high school Principal's secretary was pretty bad-ass after all.

Meticulous records must be kept. These days, a "normal" person might set up an Excel spreadsheet. I prefer a hardbound ruled ledger book.

I plan on using this to catalogue my purchases, complete with description, cost, date sold, and re-sale price. All by hand in black ink. This sort of thing may seem archaic to most people these days, especially the young'uns, but I love it.

Just to keep things on the up-and-up, I need the ability to produce a legally binding agreement. Thus this pad of sales slips.

In high tech carbon less triplicate: white for the customer, yellow for the government, and pink for the vendor.

While we're on the subject, I bought this Stendig calendar, 3 feet x 4 feet, back at the turn of the year. Originally designed by Massimo Vignelli in 1966, it's been in production since. In 1967 it was in the MoMA. A bit dear at $35, but worth every cent.

Here we see the whole thing in action. Other items of note:

-Plastic Schlitz cup, circa 1970s, used to hold pens

-Deck of Modiano Siciliane Italian playing cards (just like Nonna & Nonno used. My favorite game is Briscola)

-Nylon card case/ wallet, by Billykirk. A gift for Mrs. G., purchased at the last Pop Up Flea.

-1950s vintage "Flexo" fluorescent desk lamp. What? You think Thom Browne invented this stuff? If you did, I'm sorry to disappoint you.

p.s.

there's still some room left at The Top Shelf Flea. If you or someone you know might want in, drop me a line soon.

Running Hot & Cold

Shopping for the season is for suckers. You gotta learn to run hot and cold.

I love me some vintage flannel lined khakis from L.L.Bean. What could be better? How about a pair lined in Viyella? Seriously, Boston seems to be in an early state of Spring thaw, but these trews have got me hoping for at least one more frigid morning.
$4.99. The Viyella lining alone is likely worth many times as much as fabric alone.

Then, one day it will be hot and sunny...sooner rather than later if our protracted Winter is any indication. What better setting for "Picnic Plaid", red and white gingham, especially on a necktie: 100% cotton, by Steve Scheiner. Cursory internet research would suggest that this label produced mainly cotton beach themed ties in the early 1990s. Not the coolest provenance in the world, but for $1.99, I'll take it.
Besides, that little button detail at the end of the square tip may be at best quaint, or at worst silly, but I think it's pretty damn cool. Makes the tie, if you ask me.

Keeping History Alive

This post was supposed to be about the mundane task of fixing up an old suit. Instead, it is something of a history lesson.


Some of you may remember, I used to work for the long gone Simon's Copley Square, the kind of men's shop where all the products bore only the name of the store itself. I have a high regard of the clothing that I find from such long gone places, and when posting about it, I always do my best to research the old shop. Finding great stuff for short money is half the fun of thrift shopping. The other half is learning the provenance (if you can) of the stuff you find. Often, I come up with nothing, so it is when researching an old place that lived and died before the Internet.On rare occasions, if I'm lucky, a reader will remember the place and offer some insight. In even rarer case, I manage to find something out about the place.

Let's start with the garment itself; medium grey, lightweight for Spring, probably wool blend, in a snappy Prince of Wales check. This suit is something of a hybrid, combining American traditional details with British touches. For instance, it's 3/2(American), but it's darted(British).

It has plain front, cuffed pants with a narrow leg, and a two button cuff (American),

It has hacking pockets and a ticket pocket (British).

Here's where the history lesson comes into it. It's from a shop called Weber and Heilbroner. In their hey-day, Weber and Heilbroner operated nine stores in Manhattan alone. I have a feeling this was the place to shop for the man of style and class who didn't graduate from an Ivy League school, and didn't shop at Brooks Brothers or J.Press, but had very similar taste. Sure, the Brothers and Press may be with us still today, but if these guys had nine shops back then, they must have been doing something right, too. For extra cool points, see this old painted ad on a brick wall for "Stein Block Clothes in the New York Manner".

Amalgamated Garment Workers Union, June 13 1970.
And now on to the original intent of my post. I like to make my own repairs to things, if I can. It's definitely a skill worth cultivating. This suit has a few holes in the lining. No big deal, I'll just come up with some creative way of patching them. It's a trifecta, really: It's "green" ( note: that term drives me insane), it's "punk" (note: that term dives me insane), and it even bears homage to the old WASP tradition of conspicuously ragged cheapness (note: the term WASP is as silly and outdated as "punk" already is, and "green" will be soon enough).

All well and good. But then: What am I going to do about this weird pleat that serves as a vent? I'll try to fashion a normal vent out of it. I can already hear some of you crying out "take it to the tailor!" My tailor is a close ally, and I'd trust him to sew up a wound in my own children any day, but if I can avoid paying him, and learn something about the construction of my clothes in the process, I will.

Did I mention that this suit cost $1.00?

Two outcomes are possible here: I fix the suit, and wear it with pride. Or I wreck the thing, and wind up recycling the fabric into some cool throw pillows, or a bow tie or something. Either way, it's a dollar well spent, don't you think?

Stay tuned for updates.

Anglophila...(once again)

...this time with the full benefit of British made goods. I acquired a sports jacket today, and I suspect it may well be the nicest and most well made thing I've discovered in a thrift shop to date:
This three button, darted jacket is made of cloth of exceptional quality, a full heavy weight meant most likely for outdoor use. If that cloth ain't the epitome of British style, I don't know what is.

Four button working cuffs. I'm more or less a two button cuff kind of guy, but that sure is some nice work. Again, check that fabric up close...so nice.
Shallow side vents,

There's even this little button under the right lapel, for closing it at the neck, further evidence that this piece was once likely at home in damp weather hunting for ducks, or some other leisurely pass-time involving rifles, dogs and the English countryside. Note the finishing on the collar, real old school tailoring. Not surprising given where it originated.

Davies and Son, a top tier London tailor shop. There pedigree is undeniable, having outfitted Admiral Lord Nelson, King George V, and the Duke of Windsor, among others. Follow that link and read their history. And how about that date, 15 June 1960? Incredible. This is the real thing here. I almost feel unworthy of it. All that nice stuff I have from Andover Shop, Brooks Brothers, even my Barbour jacket was made in a factory. This is on another level entirely.

Now for the funny part:

I spotted this jacket on Wednesday. Because of it $10.99 price tag, I took a pass. Everyone knows that the first, if only, rule of thrift shopping is 'get it while you can'. If you walk out that door and come back even 1/2 hour later, your big score will be gone. This morning, I awoke determined to rush back after breakfast in the hopes that this jacket might still be there. Fortunately, it was.

How spoiled have I become that $10.99 was more than I was willing to spend for such a thing? Seriously, what the Hell is wrong with me?But I suppose that's the best kind of spoiled: spoiled on cheapness. Is there a word for that? (be nice)

This thing is going to kill with some cavalry twill pants.

More Thoughts of Spring

Actually, perhaps that title is misleading. It's been raining for two days solid here, which I suppose is the harbinger of Spring. I'm just a little confused, since this weather used to occur in mid-March. I guess I better get used to the fact that Winter as we knew it when I was a boy is getting shorter and shorter. But I digress...

With such sloppy wet weather all around, I look forward to bright sunshine and the clothes that go with it. For example, just back from the tailor come these gabardine trews: The perfect shade of tan, smooth to the touch,
With inverse pleats and side tabs, sans-belt loops. Now might be the time for a side note on pleated pants:

I used to only wear pleated pants, no exceptions. In those days, I was smitten with a 1940s aesthetic, and it worked for me. Then, for a time, pleats were strictly forbidden. I had become obsessed with classic American (read: 1960s college campus) style clothing. Then one day I became old enough to realize that it as silly to marry oneself to some kind of book of rules for clothing as it is to insist that only the French know how to make wine. These days, I favor flat front, narrow leg about 95% of the time. But there ain't nothing wrong with some sharp British style inverse pleats. ( I still maintain, however , that conventional outward-facing pleats make most men look like they have a diaper on under there).

Ralphie Purple Label...the expensive stuff...

made in Italy. $4.99 for the pants plus $15 to have old Mr. Lee let them out a bit and give them a proper pressing.

Someday, if I ever have money, I'll pair them with these white wing tips from Crocket and Jones...or if I'm lucky, they'll turn up for a couple of bucks at a thrift somewhere...wait and see.

These might just be the items to save the green double breasted blazer from it's formidable totalitarian connotations (read the comments...thanks a lot, Tin Tin).

Wait & See

Sometimes you hear your name being called, and you don't want to answer, because you know better. But you can't help it. Sometimes, you just gotta take a chance:

Case in point, a double breasted blazer in pale chartreuse hopsack. Made by Anderson Little, who used to be the big time around here, almost certainly in the late 1970's. I can't really explain it, but I'll try.

Forget for a moment the weird color of this thing, and look only at the fit. Un-darted, but with a nicely suppressed waist line. The sleeves fit just so, as does the over all body of the jacket. The material, despite it's hue, is really a top notch hopsack, and the lapels are just right, too: wide enough to suit the double breasted silhouette, but not so wide as to be garish.

The buttons are awful. No question. But it's in the simple changing of the buttons that I feel I can make something of this jacket. It's like the black blazer all over again, only worse, because this thing is so green it makes green want to cry. Bear with me.

Picture it with white bone buttons. Instead of a 6x2 button stance with a three button cuff, it's a 4x2 stance with a two button cuff. Now picture it with crisp khakis, almost military crisp, a white shirt and an ascot, by a swimming pool, while I clutch a drink fashioned of rum and limes. Or maybe with white duck pants and a pale yellow bow tie. I don't know why, but I think I can make this work...or maybe I've had a lapse of judgement.

Check back in June...wait and see.

p.s. I most certainly did not wear it today with that shirt and tie. What sort of a savage do you take me for? I was only modelling it with the clothes I did wear today. I need to buy a tailor's mannequin.

Anglophilia

...without the benefit of any clothing that actually came from England:
A tan spread collar shirt by Polo, $1.00, a woolen houndstooth bow tie, the generous gift of Miss Ellie Laveer, a Scottish (okay, I guess that's technically British) lambswool v-neck from the House of Tweed, $5.99, and a bullet proof tweed jacket from the Andover Shop, $6.99 (by the way, not only does this jacket retail for $875, but the Andover Shop actually had it on display in the window only 3 weeks ago...super score!)

With brown suede brogues from Cole Haan, $5.49, argyle socks from the Gap, $5.00, and some 'cinnamon' colored cords from Lands End. At $45 these were kind of pricey, but I was in the mood and I love this color. I will admit, however, that there is something inherently wrong with paying more for Lands End cords than I did for that jacket, but so be it.

Topped off with my newly arrived dark olive corduroy driving cap from the Village Hat Shop. I bought this hat especially for this jacket. You see, I wear British style diving caps almost exclusively. I just didn't have one that went with this jacket. The jacket was languishing in the closet. That's just wrong...so I bought this hat.

Village Hat Shop is pretty cool, if you like caps. They carry a wide range, and most are less than $20. This jobby cost me $14.95. No, it's not made in the U.S.A. by superior old word craftsmen...but, No, it also doesn't cost $300. The quality is perfectly fine, the price is right and it shipped quickly. Sometimes, you gotta pick your battles.