The Perfect Suit

Persistence truly is a high virtue, if not the high virtue, for anyone wanting to succeed in the crazy world of thrift shopping. In this post, I am pleased to announce that after more than twenty years of active and regular thrift shopping, I have finally managed to acquire one of the most elusive, and yet most basic, wardrobe items via thrift: the perfect grey flannel suit.

You may think that given some of the crazier things I find in a thrift store that something as simple as a charcoal grey flannel suit would be easy, almost a commodity. After all, despite the fact that standards of common dress have fallen so very far in the past couple of generations, a charcoal grey suit remains one of the few things still considered bread and butter among those who still work in suits. But it's for that very reason that they are so hard to come by. Men in suits still buy and wear dark grey suits, but that's just the problem: they wear them. Being men, they wear them until they are no longer wearable. For many businessmen, the jacket is removed upon arrival at the office, and as a result the trousers wear more quickly. Eventually, the orphaned jacket winds up at the thrift, while the trousers go to the trash. The same is largely true of navy suits. In a very real sense, you have better chance of finding a tuxedo.  Not only is this one complete, but it is especially excellent and perfect, and my acquisition of it involves the story of a convoluted three way thrift shopping trade.

A a few months ago, I found a wonderful polo coat from the Andover Shop. It was in great condition, had all the right details, and fit me well. Trouble was I already had a polo coat by Polo (also acquired through trade), and even though the more recent one was technically better, I found I preferred Ralph's number. That peaked lapel he was doing back in the 90s is a force to be reckoned with.( I'spoken of the "better isn't always best" rule here.) So I traded it away to Zach, for a suit in taupe nailhead, also from the Andover Shop. A great suit with great details, but too small for me. I figured I'd sell it for about as much as I might have gotten for the coat.

Enter D, a fellow I know who is very thin, and also a mad thrifter. He visited my shop one Saturday, tried on the taupe number, and it fit him like a glove. He offered to trade for a suit he'd gotten that was far too big for him, the elusive grey flannel. Goods were exchanged, hands shook, and in the end we all wound up with a worthy item. Andover Shop second hand love triangle. Crazy.

Besides being made of beautiful heavy but butter soft flannel, this suit has what I consider to be the perfect combination of details: a three and a half inch lapel, and classic soft, natural shoulders,

a two button darted front and four button surgeon cuffs (i.e. working button holes). Surgeon cuffs are great, but they can be the kiss of death in second hand. If the sleeves need alteration, you're basically s**t out of luck. In this case, the length is perfect. All the button holes are hand stitched,

and side vents for the final Anglo-American touch. I used to hate side vents, until the first time I tried on a jacket that fit well that had them. Now I prefer them, but not exclusively. 

But it's the trousers that are the real corker here. Double forward pleated with side tabs set below the waist band, brace buttons, and a slightly fuller cut leg. What's most striking is the fact that this suit is a matched set of clothes coming from two places. 

The suit hails originally from the Andover Shop, which explains the perfection of the synthesis of English and American details in the jacket. Nobody pulls that off like Charlie. Put the final dash of insouciance on it with a button down oxford and knit tie.  The jacket was made in the USA, likely at Southwick, a made to measure job. The trousers were made elsewhere.

The Andover Shop employs an elderly Italian man named Benito as it's trouser-maker. Customers who order custom trousers will have them hand made in an apartment in Cambridge, Mass. Such is the case with these. The set of the pleats and the shape and placement of the side tabs are his signature. The man who bought this suit must have made a special request that Benito cut him some trouser from the same cloth. Awesome. I can only assume that this man either gained or lost a significant amount of weight, as I can think of no other remotely good reason to get rid of something as wonderful as this. 

This really is the perfect suit, at least for me anyway. It's a deep rich grey, the fabric is superb, and the distinct combination of details is everything I'd have chosen myself. In fact, this is more like what I had in my mind when I had my Imparali suit made a while back. You'll remember I ordered a grey suit then sighting the difficulty I'd had finding one thrift. I still like that suit, but only wish I had communicated what I was after a little better. Now that I have this one, the problem is solved. I suppose the hidden moral, or "rule of thrifting", here is not to underestimate the power of trade. Thrift crazy people tend to attract one another, and by trading amongst themselves everyone's net gets cast a little wider.

Here's to many more icy cold, flannel appropriate weeks. You won't find me complaining about the cold, as long as I can wear this suit under my polo coat.

In The Mix (a minor rant)

Its been said so many times that the earmarks of a well dressed man are all in the details, and its true. With what may seem a fairly limited arsenal of items to choose from (jacket, trousers, shirt, tie, shoes) all the punctuating differences are in the details. Pleats or no pleats, collar style, cut of jacket, shape of the shoulder and so on are just some of the bits that differentiate one style form another. Its worth knowing these things, but it can lead to fetishism and the rise of a clothing police force.

I think of this frequently when  I look around the internet at the men's clothing scene, particularly among devotees of the traditional American look. So many of them adhere so strictly to a set of rules as thought they were carved in stone and handed down from on high. No where is this truer than with the so called "Ivy" or "Trad" crowd. These are the guys who take style to be an exact replication of what an archetypal college man might have worn in 1962-67. Coats are three button and un-darted, with two button cuffs, trousers have flat fronts, and shirts have button down collars. All details must be in place at all times, and no one detail may be combined with details form any other school of style. While I do in fact enjoy that style myself and draw from its influence frequently, I find it highly limiting and anything but stylish to dismiss all else out of hand. I used to encounter this same strictness among the Rockabilly scene in the old days, guys who would measure the roll of your jeans cuff and chemically test the make up of your pomade for correctness. It's the difference between wearing cool old stuff and dressing in what amounts to a Halloween costume.

In the photo above, I've combined a continental style blazer with roped shoulders, darts, side vents and a ticket pocket with forward pleated side tab trousers and a button shirt and rep tie, both from Brooks Brothers. The coat, though made in New York, is European in style. The trousers, from the Andover Shop, are replete with British details, and the shirt and tie are as American as it gets. And yet I see no reason why these things can't all work together, In fact, by mixing them, the severity of any of them is diminished and a more interesting whole is created.

One of the hallmarks o what we call American style always was the combination of sporting and formal elements in this way. As I recall, it's actually as traditional to do this, if not more so, than to adhere strictly to a self imposed set of Ivy League standards. Charlie Davidson has been dressing this way for half his long life. My old boss Harold Simon was notorious for wearing 6x2 double breasted suits with forward pleats  with a button down collar, repp tie  and tassel loafers. The High Holy Fred was doing it in the 1930s, and he's one of the big shots.

It looks good. It looks more like you know about good clothing than simply that you've been reading the blogs the last couple of years. It looks more like you enjoy dressing and less like you enjoy being a crotchety old man obsessed with "the good old days". And anyway, those good old days weren't necessarily so good anyway. Just ask any woman or minority if they wish things were more like 1962.

This isn't to say that this is the only way either. My point is there is no "only way" and that "correctness" will only take you so far. Finding personal style lies in learning all this and then making bits and pieces of all of it your own. Putting it all together is where we find individuality while basically wearing the same thing. Use your freedom of choice.

For the strict types out there, Devo said it best:

Freedom of choice

is what you got 

Freedom from choice 

is what you want

Addendum: I wrote this in the morning using a photo from a week before. The very same day this was written, I wore this:

Kelly green 3/2 sack blazer by Brooks Brothers, with military khakis, ribbon belt and striped button down, both Brooks Brothers, and a plain navy tie, Andover Shop. I dig this too, I just see no reason to be one dimensional. Right?

All In The Details

Wearing clothes is fun for me. That could explain my penchant for a lot of things that would be too much for many people. Bright colors and crazy patchwork are the height of fun dressing, but it only works if you know how to ground yourself in understatement from time to time. I am in no way advocating boring dress, because "understated" and "drab" don't necessarily have to be the same thing.

Few outfits could be more classic than a navy blazer, grey trousers and burgundy tie, as seen here. What keep this extremely simple combination from drabness lies all in the details.

The importance of a good navy blazer in a man's wardrobe can't be understated (correction: overstated-ed.). I wear mine with some frequency, and as such have three: two single breasted, one lightweight and one Winter weight, and a double breasted.This one is an upgrade for me, replacing my old flannel one.Hand made in a Madison Avenue tailor shop once upon a time, the construction is beautiful. Internet homework turned up nothing on Virgil Carducci. Anybody know anything about him?

Like the suit that was mentioned in the last post, this jacket has a great combination of mostly European details, but it works great with my existing largely American based wardrobe. Notable is the shoulder, which is roped in a very Italian style, but has a natural slope.

Patch and flap pockets are more American, but a ticket pocket is a nice unexpected touch.

Hand finished button holes and edge stitching. This thing is the real deal. Side vents, of course.

The fabric is incredibly soft to the hand, likely at least partly cashmere. It's thick and warm, but breaths well. Closer inspection reveals a herringbone weave, it's navy shade being achieved through a weave of royal blue and black threads, giving it a richer navy shade when seen under artificial light. I traded a new-with-tags Gloverall duffel coat for this, and I couldn't be happier with the results of the bargain.

A striped shirt by Polo ($5.99) adds a bit of punch. The undone button down collar is, admittedly, a hopeless affectation, but don't forget that I'm a guy who wears jacket and tie by choice only, so who cares? I wouldn't try this in an office job, but then again I don't have one. A burgundy grenadine tie by Brooks Brothers was $1.99 well spent.

The trousers are Andover Shop mid grey flannels, with side tabs and forward pleats, worn without braces.

With all these European details, these classic American penny loafers and yellow socks are suddenly incongruous, but why not?

So much about dressing well for men lies in the details, but it's even truer when keeping things relatively quiet. Finding little ways to set off a relatively conservative ensemble can be a challenge, but it's also a lot of fun. Just remember to do this stuff for yourself, and not to impress others, because you'll probably be the only person who notices or cares.

Halfsies

Last year, I acquired this glen check suit with light blue overcheck in a soft wool and cashmere blend by Hickey Freeman through one of my by now notorious trades with the venerable Mr. De Luca of Newton Street Vintage:

I'd wanted a good glen check suit for some time, and this one had a nice scale to it. Large enough to be prominent, small enough to appear as pale grey flannel from a distance of ten feet. I like glen checks best with an overcheck. In the old days I was certain only red would do, but blue is much more understated and workable. Brings the possibility of navy ties into the picture, despite the general black and with nature of the suit.

A suit like this is what I might call an "extra suit" in that it should really only find its place in a man's wardrobe well after he's acquired suits in navy, charcoal, and perhaps the same with some sort of stripes. For someone like me who never really needs so mach as a tie, let alone a suit, it could be better called an unnecessary frivolity. But so be it.  Oddly, in its way it's more useful to me than a navy or grey suit. Given its more casual connotations, it reads less like a business suit and as such feels more comfortable when worn for its own sake. Besides, dare I say it, it actually works as well as (gasp) two separate pieces as it does a suit. I wouldn't give such grotesquely incorrect advice lightly, so please allow me to explain.

For starters, we can see that the suit works quite well in its complete form. It is well constructed with a soft three button stance, darted front, moderate shoulders and side vents, with forward pleated trousers. This gives it just the level of formality that a suit should have.Sharp enough to be worn "in town" (as though that mattered anymore) but not so stiff as to be bound only for business meetings. In this photo, the camera is set about ten feet back, and the glen check pattern so obvious in the first photo is muted from this distance. True, the right sleeve could be a whiff longer, but let's not pick nits.

The trousers work just as well on their own with a vintage varsity cardigan in a big cut with shawl collar. A navy or black jacket would go just as well for a slightly dressier look, while a heavy black turtleneck sweater would be more casual. True, these trousers are half a suit, but glen check trousers are frequently seen alone as a single garment in their own right. As a side note, for men who actually work in businesses that require suits this look works quite well in the privacy on the office. Wear the suit on the commute, with clients, and at board meetings, keep the cardigan in the office for greater comfort while working behind closed doors.

No problem wearing a solo glen check jacket either, especially with dark grey flannels, aka "the pants that go with everything". Like the trousers, glen check jackets exist alone too, and a light grey jacket is something unexpected these days, though still quite correct. Even my nemesis agrees. A younger man could wear this jacket quite well with dark jeans and a crisp shirt, sans tie. Navy pants, never a favorite of mine, would work too. Just don't pair it with black pants. In fact, unless you're in a tux, don't wear black pants...ever.

This approach doesn't work for most suits, as the separate pieces will always look like just that, pieces separate from their counterparts. Stripes are the most glaring example, but I find a separate navy or charcoal jacket just as orphaned looking. Glen checks, being more about pattern and texture, get a pass, if you're careful and you can pull it off. Go halfsies with a suit like this, and you might get three outfits in one.