Darts or No Darts (addendum)

3/2 undarted front, three button cuffs

2 button darted front, three button cuffs

Two button undarted front, two button cuffs

In photographing some new items for my online shop, I came across these three navy blazers. All three are Brooks Brothers, and all three have natural shoulders. The button stance on each is different, and one has darts while the other two do not. No one of them is any more "classic" or "correct" than the others, and each would be perfectly at home with the usual suspects: button down oxfords, khakis, penny loafers, striped ties, charcoal flannels. The "right" one would be the one that looked best and most flattering on the wearer. Let these serve as a perfectly timed real life illustration of the points made in my last post.

p.s. lots of new items arriving in the Shop over the next few days. Keep an eye.

Reader Questions : Darts or No Darts?

(from "Clothes and the Man", by Alan Flusser)

Reader Ryan writes:

Curious, do you have an opinion about darted vs. non-darted jackets?  And for that matter,..how about sack suits vs. updated American cut suits?

Simple as this question may seem it's actually quite a good one because it cuts right to the meat of the detail obsessed world of #menswear, and let's us talk about which details really matter, and why.

As anyone who reads this blog can easily guess, my own sense of style leans heavily toward East Coast American traditional clothing. However, I also have a deep appreciation for British tailoring. As a result, I tend to shoot for what I call an "Anglo-American" approach to dressing, combining elements of each school of thought. I appreciate Italian tailoring as well, but despite being Italian myself, tend to shy away from it, as it doesn't really suit my figure or lifestyle.

For those who may not know, a dart is a small partial seam that runs up the front panels of a jacket from the pocket to the chest, giving the coat a bit of shaping in the sides. A "sack jacket" doesn't have darts, and therefore has a boxier shape, For generations this one of the distinguishing features of American dress, the other being a "natural shoulder" with minimal padding. In my own wardrobe, there are examples of both. I'm pretty ambivalent about whether a jacket has darts, instead considering the overall shape and cut of the garment. Personally, I look for a natural shoulder, with soft suppression at the waist, and an easy but correct fit. Whether this was achieved with darts or with shaping at the side seams doesn't much matter to me. I feel the same way about pleats vs. flat front pants. I want my trousers to fit comfortably without being baggy. These days I tend to prefer forward pleats, despite the fact that are considered "incorrect" in an East Coast traditional wardrobe, again because they suit my figure and lifestyle better. The fact that they are a little different, irreverent even, is only a plus.

The clothes you wear should make you look good. The best way to achieve this is to choose cuts and styles that compliment you. These days it's easy to read the internet and fill your head with a long list of so-called inviolable rules, but following those rules by rote to the letter won't necessarily help you dress well. Know what they are, why they exist, and then adapt them to yourself, using what a friend once called a "broad stroke traditionalism". It can make the difference between looking like you're going as "Take Ivy" for Halloween and being stylish and well dressed.

Free Stuff: Knot Standard, part 1

The world of so-called "online custom" has exploded in recent years, and as a lover of fine clothes who is also a consummate cheapskate, I want to believe that while this is in no way the same as real bespoke, that someone will hit it well enough that it could at least be a viable option for well crafted clothes made of good fabric at a price that is at least imaginable for many men. A few months back I was contacted by Knot Standard about doing a review of one of their jackets, and decided to give them a a go. Despite my less than glowing experience in the past, I really want to believe that this can work if you know how to pull it off right.

Knot Standard's ordering process is like many others in that it asks you to input a very specific set of measurements in order to cut a "pattern" from which to make your garment. If I've learned anything from bad experiences it's this: you can't measure yourself properly, and neither can your significant other. This time out, I wrote down all the measurements they asked for and had my tailor take them for me. This not only ensures a more accurate and impartial set of numbers, but in a way gets closer to actual custom, in that a professional took my measurements, even if he wasn't the same person who made the final garment.

Within five weeks or so of placing the order, my jacket arrived. I chose a cobalt blue 100% linen fabric in a slubby herringbone weave by Holland and Sherry. Upon opening the box, I was immediately impressed. The cloth was high quality, the construction was excellent, and all my specific detail requests were met exactly, in this case: 3/2 darted front, natural shoulders, side vents, three open patch pockets, two button surgeon cuffs, and a partial lining. See below:

 Note the correct "old style" button placement, with a high top button in line with the breast pocket.

 Blue and white gingham bemberg lining is a plus, as well as properly taped exposed edges.

A two button surgeon cuff is more than a bit unusual, but they did it, and did it well at that, no questions asked. Check that slub.

As for fit the jacket was very close. But the only troubling thing was the fact that the shoulders were a whiff too tight. Not much, but enough to be a thing that would prevent me from wearing this jacket much.So I contacted my man at the place and told him. At first, he asked that I consult a tailor and offered up to $75 to cover alterations. I replied that the shoulders were just too tight, but added that as this was a gratis garment I didn't want to be greedy and demand a remake. My man than replied that this was nonsense, and of course they would remake my jacket to fit. His only regret was that it will take an additional 4-6 weeksto complete the task, and that by the time I receive that second jacket, Summer will be over and it will be too late to wear it.

Ah well, there's always next year.

The price of this jacket would have been $395. That's no small change for a cheapskate. However, this jacket is extremely well constructed of excellent fabric and was delivered in relatively short order. That jacket you might get in the store at Joe Banks or Mens Wearhouse for that same price? This is miles better. And while I did have fit issues, customer service and communication have been great with these guys. So far, so good. Can't wait to see how the replacement works out.

What's In A Name (it works both ways)

Recently on a hunting trip I found a glen check suit with a tan cast and a faint blue overcheck, styled in full blast traditional American details: 3/2 roll, undarted front, two button cuff, center vent, and flat front pants. First thing I saw in amongst a lot of junk that day, I scooped it right up.

Via none other than the High Holy Brethren Theyselves, the Brothers Brooks. Score, right? Maybe not.

This suit felt a bit "crunchy" as I say. Lots of times, in thrift shops, things feel this way when they are in desperate need of dry cleaning. Lots of times, good dry cleaning brings hem back and renders them soft and cozy once again. But not always...

Turns out this ones "Crunchy" a'cause its made mostly out of polyester. For shame, Brooks Brothers, you say. But let us not forger that it was the very Brethren Theyselves that unleashed DuPont's Dacron monster on the world. In the end, I left this one behind.

A "Good Name" isn't always attached to good quality, just as good quality isn't always attached to a "Good Name". Know the difference.

p.s. new stuff in the Shop. Go see.

The Curse of the "iGent"

What a strange world it is that we clothing nerds have created for ourselves via the megalithic beast that is the "internet". We who think, care, and obsess over not just clothing itself but the infinite minutiae of details it entails have found one another, to the relief I'm sure of many a significant other who no longer has to listen to quite so much harping about the roll of a collar or the cut of a lapel. And in large part, this community is a good and wholesome thing. But as with any community, we have our bad side. In #menswear circles, our more embarrassing proclivities manifest themselves in the form of the dreaded "iGent". He's the one who gets all in a twist at the mere suggestion that any of a number of rules in a strict and mostly imaginary code of rules be even mildly transgressed, the one who wails at the very idea of pleated trousers, or flat front, depending on which particular code to which he has decided to subscribe. He's also the one most likely not to have known how to tie a tie three years ago, before this got out of hand.

I won't deny my own indulgence in iGent-ism. After all, I am writing this on a self published clothing blog bursting with self portraits meant to show the extent of my own closet. Nor will I go into too much detail about just what makes and iGent. An in depth (and quite funny) description can be found here. Nor will I rant about the foolishness of such strict code adherence, as I've already done that here, here, and elsewhere on this blog. Instead, I will illustrate the horrors that can take place when the imaginary world the iGent inhabits overlaps too much with the real one where everyone else lives.

Pictured above is a perfect example of a garment that speaks to one particular strain of iGent. It's a vintage 1960s navy blazer made in USA. It's Ivy/Trad/Preppy to the hilt, having natural shoulders, patch pockets and of course, the magical unicorn that the high holy "3/2 roll".

3/2 roll, or what the old guys at J. Press in Harvard Square call "button on center" is a hallmark detail of Ivy/Trad/Preppy whatever you call it. It's a style I like, a lot actually, and I wear it myself quite frequently. You could even say I prefer it, but it's never really been a deal breaker for me if a jacket was two button, or darted for that matter. Just as I like more than one flavor of ice cream, I like more than one cut of jacket. True, I mostly wear a natural shoulder, but that's more because it suits my build and style than because I read about it ad nauseam on the internet. In any case, this is a nice coat, and if it were my size chances are I'd keep it and wear it fairly frequently.

Pictured here is my own latest acquisition, a wonderful jacket made by Southwick for the Andover Shop in Russel Plaid, out of what must be English tweed cloth. Acquired through yet another great trade with Zach of Newton Street Vintage, it is instantly a new favorite. However, it's got just one thing wrong with it. Not a rip, not a moth hole, nothing so accidental as that, but an absolute scar inflicted upon it by the misguided tinkering of a too-far-gone iGent. 

It's safe to say that the Andover Shop is my favorite "brand". The quality is always impeccable, and the fabrics used there are nothing short of things of beauty. The house style is the perfect combination of English and American details, British influence, but always with a soft natural shoulder. This jacket is no different: rendered in thornproof British tweed in a pattern that is distinctly English, it has a two button darted front combined with a center vent and that distinctly American natural shoulder.

Trouble is that some previous owner just couldn't be satisfied with an amazing garment like this as it was, and decided to "improve" it by adding a third button and button hole, badly. The superfluous third button had been stitched on through the lapel, an aberration I removed immediately. The third buttonhole is the real crime here.

At the very least, it's placed correctly, but it's sewn poorly and with thread that is a completely different color than the two existing buttonholes the jacket was intended to have.

Sliced straight through the canvassing, the best I can hope for is that my tailor can at least refinish the hole to look less like the act of Ivy/Trad/Preppy hubris that it is. You'll have to pardon my French here, but seriously, what the f***? Who could do such a thing? Did he also try to paint his wife's eye's with nail polish because someone online said that blue eyes were WASP-ier? Why would anyone do such a thing to such a beautiful garment? Only an iGent.

The fellow who did this was certainly not the one who purchased this jacket new at the Andover Shop in the first place.No, that man would have had taste and sense enough not to spoil his clothes by adding a needless detail like this. He almost certainly purchased this at a thrift store. He saw and felt the wonderful tweed, and it fit in with the narrow but extensive set of rules the internet at large had handed him on how to dress. It was from the Andover Shop, which Googling had assured him was among the accepted brands. But alas, it was a two button front. "Not to worry", he thinks, "I can fix that. I'll just watch a couple of YouTube videos on how to make a button hole. Can't be that hard, right?" You can see this is the result of iGent-ism at its very lowest. He added this detail not because it improved the jacket, but because "3/2 roll" was something that his internet habits of Ivy League/Jazz/Steve McQueen/Weejun etc., etc., had convinced him was an imperative detail. He did this not because he was a man of style, but a copy cat merely regurgitating the things he'd seen on the screen, . In so doing, he has relegated this garment to being a nothing more than a cast off at a thrift shop. I hope my tailor can fix it, but I will wear it anyway, using that silly hole as a teaching tool. Hopefully he is reading this now, hanging his head in shame as tears drip onto the keyboard of his laptop. 

There is a wealth of information and knowledge at our fingertips these days, and it's a wonderful thing, but we need to be careful with it. You may think that by dressing well you are setting yourself apart in some way from the mindless masses dressed in logo sweatshirt and cheap sneakers, and you'd be right. But if you are foolish enough to advertise so obviously as this, at least to those who know, that you really are only doing what the internet told you, then you really aren't any different. It would of course be nothing short of hypocrisy for me to say "Don't be an iGent", have a good time and take it in stride. Just, you know, don't be an iGent.

p.s. Select items on sale now in the AAW Shop. Grab a deal while you can, and help me make room for the piles of new stuff I've got for you.

One man's costume...

The Halloween season is a thrift shop's annual cash cow, in much the same way that Christmas functions for any new retail store. Many thrift shops will stockpile certain items in anticipation of Halloween in order to build a dedicated section at the front of the store.  These racks will be packed full of things like surgeon scrubs and military uniforms, as well as hopelessly awful polyester clothing and pre-made costumes. But they are always worth a look for anyone who is a fan of traditional East Coast style menswear. For example, a Halloween rack can be a great source of tartan trousers and brightly colored corduroys, as well as embroidered "critter pants" and even tweed caps.

The jacket pictured above was recently discovered on a Halloween rack. Made in England of real bullet proof tweed in a classic British gun club check with a rust and red overcheck, it has a 3/2 darted front, single button cuffs, horn buttons, and hacking pockets. Apparently, 99.9% percent of the world looks at this and sees a funny plaid jacket. But you and I know better, don't we? It's all about context.

Happy Halloween

The Man From Brooks Brothers

Brooks Brothers isn't what it used to be. There was a time when you could tell a guy was wearing Brooks Brothers from half a block down the street. A certain combination of subtle but distinct details in cut, styling and fit was a clear signal. These days, its hard to know what that means, or meant, especially for younger guys who never saw it first hand. But when you see it all together, it still makes sense.

The high buttoning 3/2 roll...the undarted front...the natural barely padded shoulders. Combined with flat front, slightly high waisted pants with a conservative cut through the legs and cuffed hems. Behold the now iconic #1 sack suit. Acquired in trade some months ago from Newton Street Vintage, I've been waiting for a nice chilly day to wear it. On the feet, double soled shell cordovan longwings by Allen Edmonds. What else?

Given this suits late 1950s/early 1960s provenance, a narrow repp striped bow tie of similar vintage seemed the perfect choice. A soft rolling unlined button collar was also a given. Now usually I'm not one to go full blast vintage, preferring instead to mix older pieces with well made modern things, but in this case the combination picked itself.

All of it vintage,all of it made in USA, all of it Brooks Brothers. It's hard to argue with that.

p.s. there are some photos of what to expect from Eddigan's, a furniture consignment shop and Top Shelf rookie, over at the TSFM blog. Check it out.

Knowing the Difference

The classic grey flannel suit, hefty, soft and warm, 3/2 undarted front, half lined....

A two button cuff on such a coat is typical. Three button is rarer...



Flat front pants with a relatively straight cut, of course....

Made in USA, likely in the 80s...

From Simon's Copley Square of Boston Massachusetts, my high school job. $14.99 at a local thrift shop.

I worked at Simon's Copley Square on weekends when I was in high school, from 1992-1995. I loved that job. Already an incurable clotheshorse, Simon's not only provided me with an excuse to wear suits, but also allowed me to play with clothes all weekend. I used to love getting dressed on Saturday morning and taking the subway into the city. I miss that.

These days my own personal style leans towards the classic American look, albeit with a bit more foppery than the rules would entail. But this wasn't always the case. Back in high school, I was stuck on a more 1940s vibe. I watched a lot of old movies on cable back then. Think broad shoulders, ventless backs, double breasted, high waist pants with deep pleats and braces, wide brim hats, Brylcreem, and tons of those awful wide ties with garish geometric designs. I used to shop at Keezer's and the real Filene's basement for size long suits despite my 5'10" height, because the longer coats and higher rise pants had a more 40s feel. At least I though so on my 17 year old brain. I had it down to a science, and I knew I looked sharp. Mrs. Simon felt otherwise.

I was there in the final years of that business. In its prime, Simon's like so many other faded and gone places, specialized in traditional East Coast menswear. It was all undarted jackets, flat front pants, repp ties, button down collars, Shetland sweaters and GTH pants on the weekend. In the early 90s, things were different. Pleated pants were the norm, and we sold more Countess Mara ties than we did repp stripes. These things always upset Mrs. Simon, but her husband Harold and son David were desperately trying to keep the store relevant in the face of places like Jos. A. Bank and Mens Wearhouse, both a block away in either direction, who were stealing so much of there business. She would counter that Brooks Brothers was also a block away, but by then even the Brooks Brothers customer, and look, was becoming unrecognizable in a sea of homogeneity. Still she erred to there judgement, and things chugged along.

I would dress the displays with the hands in the pockets and the jacket pinned back. In the window I would sometimes furl the tie and pin it to look like it was blowing in the wind. This was too much for her, and she would frequently make me undo a display and dress it conservatively, with the jacket hanging straight and the trousers laid down in front.



My clothes drove her mad, but in my youth I never knew why. After all, I dressed like the 1940s, right? She and Harold were young and dating back then, right? He dressed like this, right? Nope. Wrong. Dead wrong.  Anyone who has read the now classic book Class by Paul Fussell knows what I mean. When I read the parts of that book on clothing again recently, memories of Mrs. Simon's disdain for my baggy, garish clothes kept coming back to give me a chuckle. She wanted Douglass Fairbanks, and all I could muster was Tom Cat. I just didn't know the difference yet.



Reader Questions : 3 to 3/2

Reader Will writes:

I've got a suit-coat question that I thought you might be able to answer. Can you convert a standard 3-button jacket into a 3/2 merely by rolling the lapel down a little before pressing it? Or does the underlying construction of the jacket dictate how many button holes you show? I've got a 3-button that looks a little stiff on me, and I thought I could relax its presentation by rolling it down to a 3/2. My tailor says no dice.

The answer to your question, Will, is not so direct or easy, as a lot of little factors must be taken into consideration on what appears on the surface to be a relatively simple matter. That's long-hand for "good question".

To start with, a little history is in order. Lapels are a standard feature of a man's jacket. They remain, regardless of the whims of fashion. As with so much in menswear, they are a derivative vestige of military detailing. Flip up the collar or your jacket and hold the lapels closed and its easy to see how they were once the rolled back front pieces of a military tunic style coat. Extra, unused buttonholes derive from this as well.

This illustration shows tunic style military coats buttoned to the neck.  Side note: the indispensable navy blazer with gold buttons also derives from uniforms such as this.

This photo of General Ulysses S. Grant shows how the unused top button hole on a 3/2 jacket got it's start. Grant wears his tunic style coat open at the neck, revealing a shirt and tie, and creating what we know as a lapel. Perhaps we should refer to this look in nerdy menswear parlance as "18 x 5 (9 roll 5) undarted double breasted front with natural shoulders".

The style of having a three button coat "rolled" to the center became a noted detail of American menswear in the middle of the twentieth century. Brooks Brothers, as with so many things in American menswear, was right at the center of it. This vintage Brooks Brothers suit has essentially four evenly space button holes, with the second from bottom the focal point. More modern ones have three button holes spaced roughly from just below the belt to just below the chest. Jackets like this one were cut with this button stance in mind. But, can a more straight cut three button be converted?

Construction of the jacket will have a lot to do with this. Often, lapels are cut specifically to sit one way or another, and changing that can throw off the lines and proportions of the entire jacket. It's not as simple as just ironing it differently. Canvassing, chest construction and the construction of the lapel have been set to drape a certain way.

Then there's that pesky third button hole. If you look closely at the first photo and the last photo, you can see clearly that the top button hole has been finished on the inside. This is because it was meant to be seen from that side, rolled back into the lapel. If a jackets button hole is not neatly finished on that side, then the suit wasn't meant to hang that way and no pressing will ever really get it to look right in that stance. You might be able to soften the angle at which the lapel rolls, but you won't get a true 3/2 out of it.

Lastly, if the tailor says no, than I guess the answer is no. He knows better than you, or I, do.