Brown in Town

Since we had such a vigorous discussion on wearing "brown in town", I thought the timing was perfect to share this gem of an item I've been sitting on for some time now.

A vintage tweed suit made of cloth so thick the garment weighs almost as much as I do. No tags, but my educated guess says this is the real deal from England, likely made in the late 1940s or 1950s. Actual country clothing, the kind of brown most definitely not intended for town, though if this were staying with me I'd be hard pressed not to wear it twice a week all Winter despite the concrete beneath my shoes.

It's dificult to do justice to thos fabric in words and pictures. A heavy tweed the likes of which is rarely seen these days, in a barley corn weave of tan and brow. A classic English overcheck in red and burnt orange runs trhough it, as well as a good dose of turquoise, yes turquoise, threads. Outstanding.

All the English details are there : side vents, structured shoulders, a nipped waist, three button cuffs with the bottom two functional, and hacking pockets with the pattern perfectly aligned.

The trousers have a high waist with a 14 inch rise, and a pretty serious fishtail back, combined with 1 3/4 inch cuffs (turn ups) and a relatively narrow 8 1/2 inch leg opening.

A button fly with a heavy steel hook at the top, forward plaets and brace buttons finish the job. The fishtail is a full four inches higher than the front waist band. This is a serious garment, a relic of a manner of dress which I see rapidly disappearing in my own lifetime.

The suit is a 42 long with a 37 waist an 31 1/2 inch inseam. If it fits you, visit the Ebay auction by way of the link in the sidebar and it can be yours. If, like me, it doesn't fit you, drool over it and wish it did. May its next owner combine it with a tattersall shirt, wool tie, high top perforated wing tip boots, a rifle, dogs, a flask of single malt and some dreary, damp weather.  Auction ends 12 December.

p.s. many new items hitting the shop soon. Stay tuned.

p.p.s. more of the usual jibber jabber to come, less shameless salesmanship.

p.p.p.s. despite what the arcane rules may state, if you have an iconoclastic streek you can wear this "in town".  I know I would.







Country Is Where You Find It

Seems I always find myself writing something about what used to be known as country clothing right about now. After all, the weather has just turned crisp and being a clothes nerd, my attention immediately turns to corduroy, tweed and flannel.

I may be a city kid, but I do ocassionally find myself in places that look like this, especially on Monday holidays when the kids have the day off.

Parlee Farms in Tyngsborough, Massachusetts, just shy of the New Hampshire border, may not be the most rustic farm in the world, but it's a great place to take your kids to pick apples, feed the goats and generally run around with millions of other city kids whose parents have taken them out for some fun in the fresh air of New England. And they have hot apple cider doughnuts and pumpkin muffins. No such thing as too many of those.

This being ostensibly a shallow clothing blog, let me profer that 8 wale cords, an oxford shirt, and down filled nylon vest are perfect attire for catching a three year old girl in flight at the hay maze. A vintage cap in Donegal tweed and honey brown pebble grain bluchers finsih the job. You didn't think I was going to suggest a tweed suit with plus fours, did you.? I'm not, despite what many may think, that crazy. I do like to look like a grown-up, but I don't want to be a stiff, though I am fully aware that as the only man there in shoes (not sneakers) with his shirt tucked in, I'm the modern definiton of just that. So be it.

Dressing for Fall is all about utilizing the colors of the season. Rust, gold and brown blend in seamlessly with a setting of dirt paths, turning trees, and a newly acquired giant pumpkin which now graces the entrance to our city dwelling.

I may never go on a duck hunt in the English countryside, but it's no matter. Country is where you find it.