Archi-torture, part 2

The old Archi-torture has kept me quite busy this week, and promises to continue keeping me busy until Christmas, so posts may slow to once or twice a week. Unless of course I wear a particularly stunning outfit on any given day, in which case I will of course be compelled to share it with strangers. In the meantime I'll be building site models of streets corners in Boston and proposing outlandish new structures for them (theoretically, of course):


Wait till you see what I have in mind for that parking lot in the middle.

Here's To The Simple Things

Lunch on a chilly Sunday with my wife, the boy playing with toy trains.
Tomato soup with saltines, grilled cheese sandwich. Perfect.

Rugged Formality

One of my favorite things in the vocabulary of distinctly American menswear is the nonchalant way in which formal and non-formal items wind up in the same combination. It's a phenomenon that only works with American style, something our pal Heavy Tweed has lately referred to as "Heavy Duty Ivy". Today it was raining, and I wore a suit, in Massachusetts. Heavy Duty Ivy all the way:

I'm a big fan of the Barbour over sport coast look, and an even bigger fan of the Barbour over suit look. The trick is to make absolutely sure that your suit coat is shorter than your rain coat.I also like considering the plaid lining to be part of the outfit. I love having that much visual interest buried inside my clothes.Underneath the waxed cotton, its all business all the way, if a bit rumpled and slouchy (on purpose of course).

I wore this outfit to the Ralph Lauren store in Boston in my never ending quest for any kind of employment. That store is weird. It's really nice and you want everything in it, but if you stay there long enough you begin to feel like all the mannequins are cartoons of you, or like you yourself are a cartoon. In retrospect, the idea of working there makes me feel a bit like a chump, since I swore to never work retail again after my last job. Maybe I won't fill out the application after all (or maybe I better take whatever I can get).

I need a job bad. Lately I find myself getting all dressed up to go to night classes because riding the subway in a suit in the city lets me pretend...I don't know what. But really this is beside the point, as it has become clear to me that if I in fact did work for an architecture firm these days, I would be the only person in the office not wearing jeans, or even shorts.

I apologize for the minor rant, but when did we collectively decide to stop being grown-ups?

Plaid as Hell, Part 3 ( or How To Save $90)

The outside of my Barbour jacket may as well be made of iron, but the lining is getting all torn up behind the pockets. It must be the keys I carry in them. Recently, when I brought the coat in for wax treatment, I asked about repairing the lining. They could do it, but they wanted $90. That's a pretty hefty sum of money for a non-essential fix, so I decided to live with the rips.
Then one day I randomly came across an old twin bed sheet in nearly the same plaid for $1.99 at a thrift shop, and I decided to buy it for patch cloth. I realize the two plaids don't exactly line, but Barbour devotees are always talking about the pride they take in their coat having 'battle scars', so this doesn't bother me a bit.Every man should know how to do some light sewing, such as this. It took me about an hour to cut the patches, iron over the edges and sew them in. If I had taken this to a tailor, it would have cost me $30 and would have been without my essential jacket for a week, and the weather looks like rain for the next few days. Plus, there's also that good old 'do-it-yourself' satisfaction.Here's another hidden potential thrifting secret of mine: When you come across a pair of pants with a plain hem that are about an inch too long, you can easily make cuffs on them. Simply fold the cloth up, steam into place, and tack stitch at the four points where the seams meet. If you look at tailored pants with cuffs, that's really all they've done anyway. You just need enough cloth under the hem to do it.

Plaid as Hell, part 2

Behold, the Tartan Slacks in their full glory:

I had to break a personal rule and wear French cuffs with a blazer. Initially I was wearing a white button down, and promptly dumped coffee on it. In a hurry, this shirt was the only one that both matched and was pressed.Scrimshaw, stripes, Tartan and brass buttons. It should be too much, but I think it works.In other news, I called on J.Press and Andover today to inquire on the status of my possible part time employment. They both replied that lack of business would unfortunately prevent them from writing any extra paychecks at the moment. Oh well.

So I stopped off at Brooks Brothers to ask the same question. The store has recently been renovated, and it definitely smacks of fashion now, and everyone has an Italian accent (seriously). Still, I'd work there for Christmas.

In other other news: a black president. I'll be damned, I guess we're collectively more progressive that I thought after all. Good for us.

I realize that I have just mentioned the election and the economy in this post, but please no political comments. This blog is for fun. Let's discuss goofy plaid pants at great length instead.

History

Following my last post, a commenter, initials CG, had this to say:

What I like about what you do is that it requires a certain degree of sartorial knowledge. You learn fit, proportion, color, and all that at a fraction of what it costs idiots like me. It has taken me year, big bucks, and lots of amorous wrecks...live and learn. Wish these blogs were around a decade before.Did you learn the basics before thrifting or was it more of a trial and error experience?

And so this post will give a little more background on where I'm coming from. No pictures, lots of nostalgia.

I grew up in an Italian family in (what used to be) an Italian neighborhood near Boston. I still live there, and wouldn't have it any other way.

In case you hadn't noticed, Italians enjoy getting dressed, for better or worse.

I am the conglomerate of two distinctly different ways of thinking.

My father's father was a tailor. I mean a real, custom clothes tailor. I mean my Dad, in his high school yearbook photo is wearing a custom made tweed jacket, made for him by his father. By extension, my Dad is a clotheshorse, albeit in a more 'funky' way than I.

My mother's father was a concrete worker who wore the same pair of dickies for about 100 years with the same t-shirt and ratty, home made cardigan. I currently live in the apartment that once belonged to him and my grandmother.

In high school, I became obsessed with old movies, and began going out of my way to dress like it was 1939. I amassed a huge collection of short, wide, vintage ties and high waisted, deep pleated pants. I favored double breasted jackets with gigantic lapels...and thrift stores.

My Jesuit high school had a loose dress code: shirts with collars and no blue jeans. I wore a jacket and tie every day, by choice. In junior year I landed a job as cashier at the now deceased Simon's Copley Square, an old family men's shop with a real tailoring staff. (that staff included on John Pisano, a true master. I am privileged to have had him hem my slacks.) By the age of 18, I owned 24 identical white oxford button down shirts.

Then I went through a fairly long phase of punk-rock-ness of one kind or another. To some this may seem odd, but in fact it is also a specific type of dress that requires an enormous amount of attention to detail. Perfect for the obsessive compulsive mentality.

Then I got married and had kids, so back to respectability.

Through it all, I have manged to remain relatively broke. The glory that is the Internet has now allowed me to share my wisdom with you.

Tomorrow I will buy AA batteries, so I can get back to taking pictures of my clothes and stop boring you all with the details.

On Hidden Potential

Anyone who has read this blog more than once realizes that I am a thrift junkie. I can't help it. I love the hunt and the 'thrill of the score'. But I also enjoy wearing good clothing, and refuse to settle for junk just because I'm shopping 'creatively.'

For years, I have been a long time champion of thrifting with an upscale frame of mind, by which I mean being an avid thrifter who knows the importance of a good tailor. Keeping the tailor and the thrift shop closely linked in one's mind opens a world of opportunity. It's all about finding hidden potential, and then having your tailor exploit it for you.

When shopping in a thrift store, it is important not to take everything at face value. Maybe there's a great jacket that's your chest size, but is huge in the waist, for $5. Don't think 'It's too big', think' it fits in the shoulder and it's $5. I can have this taken in for $15. 15+5=20.' Twenty bucks is pretty damn cheap for a quality sport coat, let alone one that has been tailored for you specifically.Similarly, remember the power of dry cleaning. Don't think 'this suit is a little musty' think 'what a nice suit. for 15 bucks it'll be fresh as new.'

By way of example, I offer two of my latest finds, the Harris Tweed and the Tartan Slacks.

In the case of the Harris Tweed, we have a really great jacket that is hard wearing and versatile, but smells a bit like the attic, for $7.99. Add $10 for dry cleaning and a three day wait, and I still come away with a jacket for $17.99.

The slacks are an even better example. To start with we have vintage wool Tartan plaid slacks for $2.99. Not only are they about 6 inches too long, but a close look at the run of the plaid lines along the seems reveals them to be (gasp!) quite flared. Not to worry. I took them to the tailor, had the length measured and then explained to him about the flares. He measured the existing hems, which were 10 1/2 inches, and said 'I can make the 8 1/2'. So, for $2.99 for the pants+$10 for the hems+$12 for the tapering I get a striking pair of pants that are both unusual and fit like a glove for $24.99.

My point is, any well dressed man ought to know that the clothes he buys are usually not fit to wear until the tailor has worked on them. This is why any real men's shop has a tailoring staff, and insists on fittings and alterations. A thrift store find, when it is of sufficient quality, should not be viewed any differently.