Sockeye: Variations on a Theme

The infamous Sockeye Jacket is perhaps something of a conversation piece, but I do enjoy it. Granted, it's not the easiest thing to trot out of the closet, and it's season is pretty short, so yesterday I went out of my way to give this beauty it's second spin.

Funny, but khaki and white with a touch of navy seem to be just the thing to bring this shade of orange alive, while at the same time, oddly, keeping it under control. Last time out, it was cotton khakis and a white tennis shirt, with a navy and white gingham square. This time, we saw a slightly more formal variation on the same theme, with Italian tan gabardines for the pants, a crisp white point collar Brooks Brothers shirt, and the navy and white gingham shrunken, in neck tie form. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon, a dry 80 degrees.

I swear, tying the tie with the back blade a little longer was completely accidental. Leaving it that way was entirely intentional. Don't forget, I am Italian, after all.

My Dad bought this enamel tie clip, modelled after a cigar band, at Kennedy's in 1968. It's way cool, and I love having it, even if I hardly wear it. This orange and blue outfit practically begged for it.

Finished with the latest addition to my collection of pocket squares-reclaimed-from-worn-out-shirts. I gotta tell you, I'm really glad to have thought of slicing a 16 inch square out of the back of my old shirts. Jaunty.

The Peacock & The Purist

The other day, I got pretty zesty with a three pattern mix. I was into it, so were some of you, others weren't. That's fine. Today, I played the Purist:
Blue oxford button down, navy blazer, and a burgundy and navy repp tie. Really, what could be more low key and classic. Someone even told me I had Republican written all over me today. That's a bit severe...no Republican I know where's a gingham square cut from an old shirt.

Simple and pure from head to toe...'stone' kahkis and penny loafers...no socks of course.

Quite literally, "The Purist", by Sero, for Judd, of Swampscott. Homework turned up nothing about Judd, but in the old days I had this cashmere blend sports jacket in micro herringbone tweed from them... wore that one to death, I did.

Aggressive pattern mixing can be tricky, but it's fun when you get the knack. Still, it's a trick best used with reserve. Keep it in your back pocket, and play the purist in between takes. Bold pattern mixing all the time makes you "that guy", just like wearing bow ties too often can make you "that guy". "That guy" likes to turn things up to 11, but "that guy" can be a cartoon. In order to achieve the level of sartorial aplomb that "that guy" achieves when he's at his best, keep the knob at a maximum of 7...most of the time...which is still about five notches higher than most guys these days, anyway.

Cocktails by the Pool

Tin Tin recently did an interesting post about the upcoming re-issue of the infamous "Take Ivy". The book has by now been discussed ad nauseam, and though I too have been sucker punched and pre-ordered a copy, I won't talk about it here. But Tin Tin's last bit did get me thinking. He said:

Take Ivy holds a mirror to the reader. Some see it as a nostalgic look at a period long gone. Others see privilege. A lot of people see inspiration. Not only in clothing others but clothing themselves. I see someone from the outside looking in.

It was that last sentence about being "on the outside" that got my wheels turning, and rather than post my take in the comments section over at The Trad, I thought I'd get all long winded about it here.

I was ten years old in 1986. Back then I saw a lot of guys, mostly of Italian descent, dressed not unlike I dressed today. You know the look: button down shirt, crisp from the cleaners, with khakis, crisp from the cleaners, and loafers with bare ankles. Plain and simple. Pretty much the classic East Coast casual uniform (tangent: back then, such an outfit was still considered casual, by no means appropriate for funerals or weddings or even a day at the office). Us swarthy types put a slight Italian twist on it.




Two buttons open at the neck, sleeves rolled back. You'd see Weejuns and Sperry Topsiders often enough, on the kids, but mostly the loafers were Italian horsebits. I've eschewed the jewelry. Those guys always had gold chains, bracelets, pinky rings, the works...and they always did that thing with the sleeves where they'd roll them in instead of out. Little touches, but the clothes were largely the same as the Harvard guys.
My Dad's cousin Bob lives in this killer 1960s split level ranch in the 'burbs complete with a kidney shaped pool. He was always having barbecues back then. The kids would spend all day in the pool, surrounded by guys dressed like this, accompanied by ladies with smart hair-dos wearing tailored knee length skirts, heels and lightweight cardigans. Nearly everyone's last name ended in a vowel.

As the author of a blog that largely focuses on a particular type of menswear, it's no surprise that I frequently read a lot of related material. The internet has given everybody a strong opinion and a really loud voice to use in proclaiming it. Mostly the stuff I read is fun, but there's this creeping undercurrent of guys out there who still believe that if your family didn't come over on the Mayflower, descend from upright Saxon stock and send the boys to Harvard for the last three hundred or so years, then you're some kind of degenerate heathen who has some nerve wearing khakis and tweed and button down collars. To be frank, it's more than a little racist to claim that race and religion entitle one to any particular mode of dress. Because that's all this really is, a mode of dress. If a store is going to offer these things for sale, then the only thing that entitles anybody to wear them is the money to buy it.

Miles Davis bought clothes at The Andover Shop. Many of the little shops that sold this stuff were Jewish owned and operated. Where I come from, Italian dudes have been wearing a variation of this stuff forever. I can remember my Mom buying me Sero oxfords at Bradlee's as part of my Catholic school uniform when I was a boy. I certainly don't feel I'm on the outside looking in, and I really don't believe these togs have all that much to do with privilege, not anymore. Despite what some people may think, it's been an awful long time since any of this stuff was the exclusive province of the yacht club gang. Granted, I did grow up in Boston where the influence of the Ivy League set has always enjoyed a broad appeal, but still, its only clothes fellas.

Besides, you don't hear me whining about the way they stole Gucci loafers, Loro Piana sweaters and Ferraris from my people, do you.

Pattern Mixing (Summer Edition)

Though I have written about this topic before, it's been a while since I offered the subject of pattern mixing up for debate. Most guys don't have much trouble with two patterns, such as a striped shirt and foulard tie, but three patterns is tricky. What follows may even kind of sort of qualify as four...or at least three and a half.

I realize I wore this jacket only just the other day, but it's season is brief and I'm trying to get some mileage out of it. The tie is vintage 1980s Brooks Brothers, a $ 2.99 acquisition from just yesterday. An old Sero oxford, J.Crew khakis and a cap from The Village Hat Shop complete the ensemble.

I actually had no intention of wearing a jacket today, but this tie was practically demanding it. Of course, my first inclination was to keep it simple and reach for the trusty navy blazer. As I stood in the closet, it occurred to me that this was going to look an awful lot like a school uniform, and a fake one at that. Given that I was already pushing the possible bounds of integrity by wearing an imitation regiment tie (or maybe it's from an actual regiment, who knows? Either way I've never been in any regiment, so the point is moot), that would have been too much. Instinctively it struck me that this madras might work. It shares all the major elements of the overall color palette, with just the right difference in scale, the shirts stripes being fine, the jackets plaid being medium and the tie being bold. The inconsistencies between the two tones of burgundy, and the gold accent stripes on the tie give the whole thing just the right amount of maybe-it-really-doesn't-match-but-I'm-beyond -caring bit of insouciance, carefully considered of course...or maybe, it just doesn't match. I don't know. What I do know is that I felt comfortable in this, which goes along way toward putting this kind of crap over on people. That, and acting as though there is absolutely nothing absurd about dressing this way by choice in the year 2010.

At the bottom, some no name USA made tassel loafers, nice leather. I suspect they might be old Bass Weejuns, just because they have that vibe about them. In any case, for $3.49, who cares?

Anyway, pattern mixing is kind of like playing music. It takes practice and time, until after a while you can just sort of feel it. But you also have to be careful not to bust it out too aggressively all of the time. After all, imagine if every song you heard had a drum solo...

Il Aperitivo Perfetto per l'Estate

Only just the other day I realized that the Summer was sliding by and I had yet to stock the house with Campari. I love that stuff, with a bit of soda and a slice of orange. I find it refreshing on a hot day, especially while cooking. Mrs. G. can't stand the stuff, which only means that I get the whole bottle to myself. Trouble is, these days Campari is pushing $30 a bottle, and I am, as you all know, a cheapskate.

Enter Luxardo Bitter. A mere $15 a bottle. I had been eyeing this stuff for a while. Luxardo is an old Italian company that produces a wide range of cordials and liqueurs. They're best known for their Maraschino liqueur and real Maraschino cherries, both of which will elevate your next Manhattan to a new level, if you can find them. All the other classics are in the line up as well: limoncello, sambuca, and even fernet. So I figured they must know what they're doing.

If there's any difference between the taste of Luxardo Bitter and Campari, it's pretty slight. In fact, I think I might even like this better. Price aside, this stuff is a littler lighter, more delicate in texture than Campari. Served over ice with Polar lime seltzer and a couple of Clementine wedges, it really hit the spot. It also makes a fine Negroni, a drink you'd better watch out for, since it also contains gin and does not include any non-alcoholic ingredients. Tough stuff.

The only other people I've ever known who dig this stuff are my mother and my grandmother. So if you're an old Italian lady, or just nuts like one the way I am, track this stuff down and give it a try, preferably while grilling a Bistecca alla Fiorentina, or something.

Bitter and Soda:

in a tumbler with ice, mix

1/3 Luxardo Bitter with

2/3 club soda

garnish with orange slice

(lime seltzer and Clementines make

a particularly nice touch)

Negroni

in a tumbler with ice, mix

1/3 gin

1/3 sweet vermouth

1/3 Luxardo Bitter

garnish with orange slice

(steer clear of anybody else if you foolishly decide

to have two or three of these.

This poison is strong, boy.)

Bonus: Manhattan

in a tumbler with ice, mix

Old Overholt rye whiskey

splash of sweet vermouth

splash of Luxardro Maraschino liqueur

garnish with a real Maraschino cherry

(to hell with martini glasses and Bourbon,

a real Manhattan is made with rye and lives

on the rocks in a tumbler. Trust me, it's better this way.)

Details

I really do dig my vintage Palm Beach madras jacket. It's got this killer muted color scheme, which steers it clear of go-to-hell waters. Even though I do tend to be fond of such things, I appreciate a garment that is big and plaid and yet understated all at once.
This jacket is set off nicely by the simplest things, like khakis and a white tennis shirt. Never one to leave well enough alone, I punctuated it with a madras d-ring belt. Two plaids together are tough, especially when they're both madras, but this combo was almost like a secret.

I've known a lot of guys who just can't be bothered with pocket squares, but if I'm wearing a jacket, I won't leave the house without one. It's a small touch, but it really elevates the look of an entire outfit, especially in the absence of a tie.

This particular one is actually just a piece of blue oxford salvaged from a well worn Brooks Brothers shirt. I'm really digging this idea of pocket squares cut from shirt cloth for Summer. Anyone cashes in on the idea, I'll sue you.

And with that, we steer the conversation away from three big fat pieces of tweed back to the thick humid air of late July.

Off Season: A Family of Orphans

It's the middle of July, and as I sit on the front porch with the laptop drinking canned beer, it's pretty damned humid, even at a quarter past twelve. Here in Boston, it's something of a local sport to complain about the weather, which infuriates me, so I won't. Allow me only to apologize in advance for discussing tweed at such a time. But the following has been in my house three weeks already, and weren't no way I could sit on this till November...

A three piece tweed suit. This is something I've wanted for a long time, but since it's not the 1940s and we have reasonable heating most places, and I definitely do not lead the sort of life that asks for any kind of suit, let alone a three piece, let alone one in a "country" style, I had all but given up on the idea. Then this beauty turns up in a 40 short, for $7.49, all three pieces.

One Hell of a piece of cloth, thick and warm, but with a soft hand. The perfect shade of brown/grey for tweed, with an over plaid in orange, blue and green that my cheap camera doesn't do justice. In short, this suit goes wit every color shirt, tie or shoe you can throw at it.

Yikes, Paul Stuart? Ooh, la la. I don't mean to label drop, but these guys currently offer a cotton seersucker jacket for over $1200. Not a bad deal for under ten bucks.

The styling of the vest is perhaps a bit odd, what with the groupings of two buttons, but I think I can make it work.

Side tabs and brace buttons on the pants, sans belt loops. C'mon, we've got some pretty hot detailing going on here.

I imagine this suit will be a real killer on a cold day with a thick white oxford button down and wool knit tie, topped by a tan cashmere coat. If I only I had a train to catch...in England...pulled by a steam engine...

But this suit is almost less of a suit and more a Family of Orphans. You see, I run across so many parts of suits that simply cannot exist without their counterparts. But this suit will likely serve me better as three separate garments. The pants will be stunning with a big fat cable knit sweater and a Barbour jacket, Bean boots on my feet. The vest I'm seeing with wide wale cords and a heavy cardigan. The jacket will go with khakis, jeans, grey flannels and who knows what else.

Don't worry , I'm not about to go wishing it was cold outside, because my current uniform of brightly hued pants and white tennis shirts has been treating me just fine. But it nice to have something to look forward to.