Vestis Legis

Brooks Brothers Barrister's Shirts

Mon, 03 Jun 2013 23:10:43 -0700

I’ve written here before on my respect and appreciation for the traditions and conventions of the Canadian bar. Like the substantive law of the country, the dress code for barristers in our superior courts is part of a legal tradition shared across the Commonwealth.

Although in most Canadian provinces judges and lawyers stopped wearing wigs in the 19^th century, the requirement for barristers and justices of the superior courts to conduct trials and appeals in white winged collar shirts, tabs (two strips of linen about 5” long by 1” wide hanging down the front of the neck), black waistcoats, grey morning dress striped trousers, and robes remains in force. Female barristers often wear skirts made of the same morning dress striped wool instead of trousers.

The history of the barrister’s robe goes back to medieval times when it was common for men “of learning” to wear gowns or tunics. Up until the Tudor period barristers’ gowns were done up in the front and made of brightly coloured fabrics. Gradually more sombre colours became popular and by 1600 members of the Inns of Court were strictly appearing in black gowns.

The robes worn by barristers today, with their pleated shoulders and three-quarter length sleeves adorned with buttons came about in the latter part of the 17^th century.

The history of other aspects of the barrister’s robe is less clear. For example the triangular piece of cloth draped over the left shoulder of the robe that is split into two prongs on one end has an obscure past. One theory dictates that this stylized feature of the robe is a holdover from the “mourning hood” worn by members of the bar after the passing of King Charles II in 1685. The other, more colourful theory holds that originally the cloth strip was for clients to discretely place coins into as payment for their barrister’s service (one slot for gold coins, the other for silver). At one time barristers were not openly paid for their services, so if a client were to literally pay his barrister behind their back it would preserve the barrister’s dignity and the client could expect his barrister’s advocacy not to be compromised if his ex gratia payment was modest.

Like the barrister’s robe, the tabs worn around the barrister’s neck took their modern form around 1680. Though some historians suggest the two rectangular pieces of cloth were supposed to represent the tablet of Moses, more likely they were no more than a fashionable “sign of learning”, as doctors and clergyman also wore them at the time.

Despite centuries of (albeit limited) demand, finding quality barrister’s attire can still be a challenge - especially for women. Though pleased with the waistcoat and robes she had made in Vancouver, my girlfriend was not satisfied with her first winged collar court shirt. Despite being custom made, both the material and the fit were not to her liking.

In advance of a multi-week trial where several court shirts would be required, she decided to commission a set from the Brooks Brothers custom shirt program. Needless to say I was incredibly jealous, but I don’t do enough trial work to justify such an order.

Although the Brooks Brothers’ shirts were more expensive than the Vancouver-made shirt, they are quite lovely and she is hoping the wrinkle-free cotton and the consistent sizing will make the investment worthwhile. Unfortunately, and as is often the case at the criminal bar, the trial she ordered the shirts for was adjourned so she hasn’t had a chance to put them through their paces.

Court shirts will probably never be big business for an American clothier like Brooks Brothers, but if they were ever in need of a niche market to expand into, Barrister’s attire has more than enough history, tradition, and panache to make it worthwhile.

Poppin' Tags

Sun, 05 May 2013 22:58:17 -0700

Scavenging your way through thrift stores and consignment shoppes for secondhand clothing can be a rewarding and self-affirming activity for #menswear enthusiasts. Others, like recording artist Macklemore describe thrifting as, “savin’ my money and I’m hella happy that’s a bargain, bitch.” Whatever your reasons are, if you’re smart about it vintage shopping can pay serious dividends.

I say that thrift shopping can be rewarding because in addition to being able to snap up everyday items at a fraction of their retail price, from time to time you can stumble across rare or unusual vintage pieces that simply aren’t available “new”.

I also consider thrift shopping to be a self-affirming exercise because as #menswear enthusiasts we consider ourselves to have something akin to “insider information” on fit, style and quality. Accordingly, when you roll out of a Salvation Army with a tweed sport coat you paid $12 for, you feel like a champ because the hours you spent on the blogosphere arriving at the conclusion that an undarted, 3-2 role lapel, hook vented jacket is worth having just paid off.

Unfortunately we don’t all live in San Francisco, New York or any other meccas of #menswear that come to mind. I live in Vancouver for example – somewhat of a hinterland for classic #menswear, and the “trad” lifestyle generally. Put simply, my trips to the secondhand shoppes aren’t quite as fruitful as our friend over at Broke and Bespoke who shamelessly flaunts his weekly hauls of tweed jackets (he picks them up by the half-dozen I gather) and Etro ties that he gets for the price of a cup of coffee.

Indeed, for the rest of us vintage shopping is a grind; you can’t remember the last time you actually found anything nice, but the faint memory that it did happen once keeps you coming back. Thrifting is trickle-down economics: if the gentlemen at the top of the top of the food chain in your area don’t dress particularly well, there’s little chance that their cast-offs that end up in your local used clothing store will be worth purchasing.

The body of literature available in the blogosphere advising on thrift shopping is voluminous, with posts by PutThisOn and Broke and Bespoke coming to mind as particularly informative. Nevertheless, on the topic of sourcing used sport coats and suit jackets I volunteer three further observations:

1) When you pick a jacket off the rack your primary focus should be on the jacket’s length, and how it fits you across the shoulders. This applies to purchasing jackets “new” as well. These are the two “gatekeeper” criteria, and it’s binary system – either the jacket fits across the shoulders, and is the right length for you, or it isn’t. It’s a matter of yes or no – there is no “sort of” for these crucial jacket dimensions.

Block from your mind fabric, colour, brand and other considerations until you have arrived at this simple “yes or no” conclusion. If the answer is yes then you may pass Go and contemplate what further work needs to be done to improve the overall fit of the jacket.

If the answer is no then put the jacket back. No amount of tailoring is going to make your size 40 shoulders fit naturally into a 38 jacket – no matter how beautiful it is. Likewise if you’re a 40 regular, don’t buy the 40 tall.

A smooth and natural fit across the shoulders of any jacket is fundamental: too tight and you’ll see weird ridges, too big and the jacket will sag. Neither look is flattering, and neither can be cured by tailoring. Attempting to adjust the length of a jacket will throw off its “balance” and is not advisable. I suppose a tailor could try and let out the bottom of a jacket by an inch or so, or take it in by the same margin, but my old tailor refused to do this for me on more than one occasion.

Jackets are designed with proportions in mind like the distance between hemlines and pockets, and the jacket buttons and your waistline. If you attempt to change these ratios the “balance” will get offset and won’t look quite right.

2) If you’ve found a jacket that fits you across the shoulders, and the length is right for your torso, your next consideration is sleeve length.

I don’t think I’ve ever tried on a jacket that I haven’t needed to take out at least a half inch on the sleeve.

This is where you need to be careful when looking at jackets made of materials other than wool. Wool (worsted or otherwise) is an ideal fabric for jackets because it doesn’t crease or fade as easily as other materials. Cotton on the other hand will crease along the cuff, and may be more prone to fading.

The photo above is a good example what does this mean for a vintage shopper. I bought this jacket thinking I’d have no problem taking the sleeves out. I was wrong. That crease isn’t going anywhere. If I went ahead and had the sleeves taken out anyway I’d be left with ridiculous looking slightly discoloured rings around my cuffs. Terribly unbecoming.

With wool on the other hand, like in the photo below, the problem isn’t as pronounced.

At the very least before you leave the store with your new jacket pull the end of the sleeve open a little to take a look at the difference in colour between the exposed fabric, and the fabric tucked underneath, and consider whether there is a crease separating the two that’s too rigid for a steam iron to press out.

3) When buying used clothing you don’t get the benefit of a marketing campaign, a salesperson, or running commentary on the blogosphere to inform you of the quality - instead you have to rely on your instincts and brand reputation.

When in doubt over the bona fides of a garment, try focusing your attention on evaluating the workmanship of the little details. This is a trick my old tailor got me on to. How are the labels sewn on? How are the buttonholes finished? What are the seams like in the places no one gets to see? While not necessarily determinative of a well-made garment, the level of care put into the lesser aspects of the jacket is a pretty good indicator of what sort of price point the garment was manufactured for.

As you can see from the label on this Saks suit, no one in quality control at that factory cared how the labels were cut or sewn. Makes you wonder what else they didn’t care about on that run of suits.

Every aspect of a mass-produced garment has a dollar value attached to it. If a suit manufacturer bidding on a contract needs to cut costs – the quality of buttons used, or whether or not the lapel buttonhole will be functional – are easy ways to shave off a few dollars per unit. Individually these minor irregularities or shortcomings may not be noticeable, but when examined in aggregate they can leave you with the conclusion that the jacket you’re holding was made on the cheap.

Brooks Brothers x Vancouver Club

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 23:36:59 -0700

With the girlfriend out of town this evening, and the apartment to myself, I had the pleasure of catching up on some reading, some long overdue shoe polishing, and some solo drinking. Not a bad Wednesday evening indeed.

My malt of choice? Glenkinchie 12. My book? The Vancouver Club: First Century 1889-1989.

My evening of solitude allowed me to reflect on the immense pleasure I derive from the simpler, albeit finer, things in life. Give me something interesting to read, a neat whisky and some classical music on the radio and I couldn’t be happier. Granted these are all rather bourgeois pleasures – not unlike an admiration of #menswear.

I think there is an undeniable, although by no means absolute, nexus between having an interest in dressing well and having an interest living well. Of course the allocation of scarce resources dictates to varying degrees how well one’s interest in dressing and living well gets to be played out – but the interest, the fascination, the appreciation, is usually there.

Having said all of that I was somewhat surprised by the January 23, 2013 post on Permanent Style. I realize that January was some months ago now, but so rarely do I find myself at odds with our learned brother Simon Crompton that his thesis is worth discussing. “I find bizarre” he wrote, “the assumption that because I pursue refinement in clothing I will be interested in the best cigars, hotels or opera.”

Frankly I would have assumed Simon appreciated vintage mechanical movements, well made cocktails and smooth-drawing Cubans. To pursue refinement in #menswear to the degree that he does, and not let that passion for aesthetic beauty, tradition, occasion, and history spillover into the other arenas of life seems inconsistent.

To be fair, smoking and drinking are both vices that Mr. Crompton may abstain from generally, and if that is the case there is certainly nothing wrong with that. However if we assume that he does enjoy the occasional mixed drink, and takes the occasional trip abroad, I just can’t picture him sipping a rum and coke in a bespoke suit at a Best Western.

How does one espouse the values of buying well-made, well-designed garments, but then fill their flat with furniture made from particleboard, and artwork from Tesco? How do you connect with merchants and makers of cloth on the level that Crompton does, only to let that passion for understanding fall to the wayside when it comes to other facets of personal expression? It doesn’t add up.

#menswear is a gateway drug.

Bowties go with scotch like Friday morning tee times go with private club lunches.

Allen Edmonds. Recrafted.

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 22:49:10 -0700

After finishing law school, but before I started articles, I made a trip down to Boston, MA to visit an old roommate from undergrad. Between the beer and the baseball I made a special effort that week to visit an Allen Edmonds shop to get fitted for a proper set of shoes – walnut Strands. It proved to be a wise decision.

Since then I’ve purchased several more pairs of Allen Eddies on eBay – all “lightly used” and all at a fraction of the cost of new shoes. Prior to my Boston trip I would have never considered buying shoes online, but now that I’m familiar with the brand’s sizing I browse and order with confidence.

In the #menswear blogosphere I don’t think there is an article of clothing that is as rigoursly evaluated for its “value” as shoes. Countless digital inches of column width have been devoted to articles, blog posts and reader comments discussing and dissecting whether it is worth “paying more” for quality footwear. Interestingly this is at odds with the prevailing #menswear dogma that aesthetic appeal is in itself valuable, and therefore it is perfectly reasonable to pay more for a nice shirt, tie, or pair of shoes simply because it looks better.

Strangely there exists a chorus of cynics who paradoxically frequent websites like Permanent Style and Put This On yet still demand something akin to an actuarial report on the cost, lifespan, and maintenance fees associated with full grain, Goodyear welted footwear to justify their purchase over down-market models. While that level of analysis may seem excessive, the philosopher kings of #menswear who relentlessly champion the value of good shoes almost ask for it.

A new pair of Allen Eddies will set you back about $345. A similarly styled pair of shoes from Aldo, or a like brand, will cost you only $135.

So how do the proponents of quality footwear beat that $210 spread (assuming, for arguments sake, that it is not sufficient to leave it at “the more expensive shoes just plain look better”)?

I think based on my experience with buying both new, and used, Allen Edmonds I can answer that question.

Well-made shoes hold their value: Admittedly that is a weird statement. I don’t think most men shop for clothing with resale value in mind, and there are some guys that would never in a million years buy shoes from a dead guy. Nevertheless a few minutes on eBay will reveal a tremendous volume of used leather shoes selling for hundreds of dollars. More often than not these shoes are several years old, being sold long after they are available in stores or featured in advertisements. This speaks of the intrinsic value of properly built shoes.

The costs associated with manufacturing well-made shoes makes the business practice of dumping countless models on the market every season, with the expectation of deeply discounting them only months later, untenable. Goodyear welted shoes are built to last and are sold with a consumer in mind who will look after them. For these reasons Goodyear welted shoes tend to be conservatively styled; therefore they are a better value proposition over the long term.

I purchased my McAllisters on eBay for about $80. I’d be shocked if a worn pair of Aldos from a couple years ago had any value whatsoever.

Aging: Cheap shoes suffer from rapid aesthetic depreciation. Footwear crafted of dubious “leather”, rubber, and glue will never look as good as the day they were purchased. It may take a year or two, or as short as a couple months, but the veneer of a corrected grain leather will wear away or crack, glued seams will become unglued, and rubber soles will part ways with their synthetic uppers.

Although I have no idea how old my McAllisters were when they came into my possession (the McAllister was reintroduced in 2009), they nevertheless looked quite handsome. The creases in the leather from the miles they’d already travelled added to the appearance of an already commanding shoe.

The quality of the leather used to make a shoe will be the single biggest indicator of how a shoe ages: how it responds to the elements, to regular wear, and to the occasional or frequent polishing. While it may be a stretch to say that high quality shoes “only get better with age”, it’s certainly safe to say they age gracefully.

Recrafting: Leather soles do eventually need to be replaced, that is just the nature of the beast. How many years you get out of a pair of soles depends largely on personal variables. Leather soles wear quicker when wet, so that should be avoided whenever possible.

I wore my McAllisters for a full year before sending them to the Allen Edmonds factory for a “recrafting”. I opted for the “standard” package which set me back $125 (+ $15 extra for return shipping to Canada) and it included new soles, heels, and reconditioning of the uppers.

I was impressed with the recrafting experience. The form was easy to print off and fill out, and the shoes came back in about four weeks time looking practically brand new, and smelling of polish. The richness to the oxblood colouring of the uppers had been completely restored, and the shoes were buffed to a brilliant shine. They felt fantastic too. One doesn’t notice the wearing down of soles over time, until the sole gets so thin your feet are regularly getting cold and damp. Putting my McAllisters back on with thick full soles returned a firmness to the shoe, and a snug fit that had been missing for sometime (and having been purchased used, likely I never fully got to experience).

Based on the condition of the soles of my Strands, I’m expecting 2-3 years of regular wear on these shoes before another resoling.

Could you resole and recondition lesser quality shoes? Maybe. I’m sure most strip-mall cobblers could come up with some combination of glue and polish to prolong the shoes’ slow death, but they certainly wouldn’t be able to return them in “like new” condition.

So where does that leave us?

In a nutshell I consider the “recrafting” process a very good value, which underlines the merit of investing in good shoes, new or used. For $140 dollars I was able to return an $80 pair of eBay shoes to their former $345 glory. Even if these new soles only last me two more years, for $220 ($80 purchase price, plus $140 recrafting) I’ll have enjoyed three years (one year on original soles, two years on the new soles) of wear out of a very nice shoe, at an amortized cost of only $73.30 a year. Now that is a cost/wear ratio that cheap shoes just can’t compete with.

Anglophilia

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 23:23:16 -0800

This past Saturday was unseasonably pleasant here in Vancouver, so I decided to venture out to Main St. to pay a visit to my favourite antique shop - The Source.

The Source is a decidedly British affair, focusing its business on the unconventional trifecta of darts, hardware (hinges, knobs, hooks etc.) and vintage pub paraphernalia. Rounding out the inventory is a healthy variety of goodies from English estate sales that includes plenty of artwork (horse and hound type stuff, caricatures of old judges and politicians, country landscapes), out of date encyclopedias and law reports, and lamps and bookcases.

In my humble opinion, The Source is to vintage pub fixtures what Bobby from Boston is to vintage #menswear. Granted I don’t think “vintage pub fixtures” is a particularly competitive field.

Anglophile or not The Source is definitely worth a visit if you find yourself in downtown Vancouver and you’re in the market for a little bit of Old World charm to take back to your flat.

I’m particularly keen on the pub signs; all of them are hand painted, and most of them are carved out of wood, weighing several hundred pounds. The sheer size and weight of these beauties makes it hard to imagine actually acquiring one for any purpose other than hanging it outside your garage-turned-tavern. Fortunately mixed in amongst the wooden signs are a few considerably lighter sheet metal signs like ol’ King George II here.

Once fitted inside a wooden frame I think The George would make for a rather interesting piece of original artwork – and certainly a conversation piece.

There’s no question that the presence of these antique signs in Vancouver is the byproduct of a shrinking pub landscape in the UK. According to a staffer at The Source, Britain’s losses become Vancouver’s gains by way of shipping containers that The Source receives directly from the UK on a regular basis. Apparently defunct pubs in the UK are unable or unwilling to sell their signage domestically, so the only market for these gems is overseas.

The Brooks Brothers #10 Elastic Band

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 22:17:14 -0800

You won’t find them in the online catalog, but anyone who received a gift card, tie, or pocket square over the Holidays is familiar with this sturdy blue and yellow striped elastic band - courtesy of Brooky Bros.

Even if you haven’t received much by way of gifts recently, all it takes is one bender of binging on clearance-priced neckware to riddle your desk with blue elastic bands.

Though it was easy enough for me to recycle the cardboard boxes, binning the chunky elastic bands seemed wasteful. So after weeks of these stylized ‘bands hanging around my office I started using them in lieu of regular large elastic bands.

The legal profession often relies on elastic bands to keep stacks of authorities organized and documents in their respective folders. The BB #10 elastic band actually works really well.

Is this a brilliant example of a #menswear byproduct repurposed for sweet trad office style? Will we ever see elastic bands in ancient madder? Or is all of this a little too Martha Stewart? It’s probably the latter.

Alas, the Bookster lounge jacket has arrived

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 22:54:28 -0800

These are exciting days over at Vestis Legis – Bookster Tweed is now offering a lounge jacket.

Maxminimus got me onto Bookster back in the fall with a favourable review of their trousers, and I’ve been biding my time ever since, waiting for a suitable 3/2 roll lapel option to materialize. While their hacking jacket is certainly a beautiful specimen, and no doubt lovely for country pursuits, the rigid shoulders and somewhat stuffy button/lapel configurations don’t lend themselves to everyday wear -at least not in the city, by gentlemen under the age of 50.

Tweed is so hot right now. No longer the stoic domain of the academy and the sport-shooting crowd, even Walmart has staked a claim. I’d say tweed has never been hotter – but that probably wouldn’t be true. My guess is one would need to consult Christian Chensvold for a proper placement of 2013 on the all time tweed popularity bell curve. Nevertheless a walk through H&M or Top Man will confirm that tweed jackets are being pushed on the masses.

While it makes sense that this hardwearing and versatile fabric is enjoying a high street renaissance, I think this only makes it more crucial that those in the know flex in well-made jackets, cut from cloth a little more exciting than your (quite literally) run of the mill herringbone tweed. Too many geezers are drinking coffee in two-button Harris knock-offs with leather elbow patches. It can be tough to take some days.

I’m about to make a £380 wager that says Bookster has the fix.

Bookster opened its doors in 2003 initially as an online retailer of vintage tweed clothing. In 2007 this Gloucestershire-based business started offering made-to-order tweed jackets and suits for city and country wear.

What sets Bookster apart from most retailers is that they take incredible pride in who make their garments, where they are made, and what they’re made of. Very few labels are willing or able to do that. Brands are quick to point out which of their pieces are “Made in America” (or England or Italy etc.), or if a certain jacket is made with Harris Tweed you’ll certainly see that prominently displayed in the copy, but by and large these selected items are the exception to the rule. The rule of course is that you’ll never see the country of origin listed beside a garment on a company website, at best you’ll see “imported” – a useless euphemism for third world construction. As for the quality or maker of the fabric itself, that information is typically neglected as well.

Bookster garments however are made entirely in Britain, by a second generation family-run tailoring outfit, using only cloths from top British manufacturers such as Johnston’s of Elgin, Porter & Harding, and some small specialty producers. That’s pretty hard to beat.

I also like that Bookster got its start by sourcing and selling high-end vintage tweed items. I think that kind of pedigree is indicative of a company that appreciates classic English tailoring.

You do have to pay for the fabric samples, but as you can see this is a worthwhile step, and the swatches are generous. The swatches aren’t uniform in size because they’re cut by hand on site. I know this because I called Bookster to order these swatches, and the lovely English woman on the phone informed me of when the “sample lady” would next be in.

The options available to customize their jackets are numerous (button, pocket and vent configurations mostly), but not overwhelming or excessive.

I think it is also worth noting that ”made-to-order” is something different than “made-to-measure”. As you can see from the Bookster online order form Bookster has a standard pattern for their jackets, available in a variety of sizes, and you place your order based on that model. You make the jacket yours by picking the fabric, buttons and pockets – maybe asking for longer sleeves if need be – but the cut of the jacket remains more or less the same. I find that reassuring. If Bookster were a made-to-measure operation, and I were asked to input a variety of measurements without speaking to the cutter, I think the odds of a well fitting jacket showing up in the post some weeks later would be slim.

Coming in at a little under $600, the Bookster jacket will be priced comparatively to similar offerings by outfits such as Brooks Brothers and J Crew. While both of those brands make a nice jacket, their seasonal tweed offerings tend to be pretty basic and are almost always “imported.” I say reject the tweed du jour.

If you’re like me and your appetite for street cred draws you towards details like real horn buttons and exotic tweeds like multi-fleck blue Donegal, or green thornproof patterns – then I think Bookster is an online gamble worth taking. At the very least you know you’ll be getting the highest quality tweed, cut and sewn in England. But maybe I’m wrong and I’ll find out the hard way in 7-9 weeks.

Tellason. Raw.

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 23:20:00 -0800

Because my last post was about a brand I wasn’t particularly happy with, I thought I would follow up with a post about a brand I am quite impressed with: Tellason. They make beautiful jeans.

I bought two pairs of raw selvedge denim jeans from this San Francisco based company almost two years ago – and this past December I treated myself to two more.

After two years of consistent wear, these jeans have undergone an impressive transformation from their former crisp and uniform condition. Looking at my well-worn Tellasons beside the new ones it’s hard to believe they’re the same product, but I think that’s the magic of raw denim.

The casual observer would probably be surprised to learn that all jeans start their lives as raw denim garments. Raw denim, or dry denim, is the term applied to denim that hasn’t been washed or treated after it was dyed during production. Raw denim jeans owe their dark and stiff appearance to the fact that after being cut and sewn they are left in this state of nature. Pre-washed, pre-distressed jeans destined for the high street on the other hand are subjected to various washes, stains, and abrasives to arrive on retailer’s shelves feeling broken in, and looking slightly worn. Because raw denim jeans haven’t been subjected to any of the foregoing, the purchaser receives a clean slate where their lifestyle, habits and adventures alone will determine the look and feel of their jeans – not the fashion trends du jour.

The malleable nature of raw denim isn’t necessarily a plus for everyone. Jeans that are purchased pre-washed and faded provide the consumer with a fit and “look” that is reliable and unlikely to change dramatically with washing or time. Raw denim jeans after their first wash may shrink, or the excess dye that has been clinging to the fabric for months (or in my case years) may rinse out in unexpected ways. I say it’s a small price to pay for jeans that will last for years, and will only look and wear better with each passing season. Whereas conventional jeans with contrived whiskering will always be identifiable as jeans bought at a certain time, or from a certain brand, raw denim jeans that whisker organically defy such categorization.

More to the point for #menswear enthusiasts is that “raw denim” jeans have taken on a secondary meaning: quality and simplicity. Though there are budget-priced raw denim jeans, like offerings from Levi’s and Cheap Monday, most raw denim jean brands tend to be made in small batches from heavy weight denim (12oz or better), with high quality zippers and rivets. Raw denim jeans in my experience are often minimalist in their design, forgoing over-styled back pockets, and superfluous details, for basic, timeless styles.

Tellason excels on both of these fronts. Sourcing denim primarily from Greensboro, North Carolina based Cone Denim, as well as Japanese producers, Tellason’s California-made jeans feature a genuine leather patch, chain stitching, and reinforced back pockets to prevent your wallet from wearing through. They’ll cost you $200 or so a pop, but it’s money well invested in a hardwearing garment that you can count on for years to come. For more on the cost of domestic jean production I recommend this Wall Street Journal article.

I should also add that I’ve experienced great customer service from Tellason. After a year of rigorous wear the crotches in both of my jeans blew out. When I brought this to Tellason’s attention they invited me to ship them down to their factory, and they repaired them quite brilliantly – free of charge. It’s such a nice bonus when quality production is matched up with lasting customer service.

Indochino. A Parting Shot.

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 00:09:45 -0800

I ordered a suit from Indochino shortly before I started my first office job as a summer student at a law firm. A friend of mine who worked at a bank put me up to it. I blame him for this.

It wasn’t my first suit, but I was still quite green in the #menswear game at the time, and obviously a little naive. At the time I was probably the target Indochino market: a young man raised by GQ to know that “fit”, thin lapels, and “bespoke features” like novelty liners and surgeon’s cuffs are important - yet not savvy enough to understand the importance of construction or quality textiles.

After dutifully measuring each other according to Indochino’s online instructions we each ordered a suit. If memory serves me correct my colleague went with a navy two-piece, and I ordered a charcoal three-piece. Our suits were about $400 each.

Neither of our suits fit when they arrived.

The Blogosphere is filled with similar accounts of poorly fitting Indochino suits. In fairness, I’ve also read a handful of Internet postings by customers who were happy with the way their suit fit out of the box.

I sent my suit back, as Indochino invites you to do if the sizing isn’t right, but the fit of the re-made suit wasn’t much better. The jacket fit ok, but the pants remained much too tight. For my money ok isn’t good enough for a jacket that’s supposed to be made to my measurements.

I took the suit to my tailor. I could always count on Radd to shoot straight with me. As a student I was always taking vintage finds or sale items to him that were several sizes too big and asking him to work miracles. Without fail he’d grill me on how much I paid for the garments I brought into his shop, lecture me on their makeup, and then insist the “balance” of the item would be all wrong if he carried out my instructions. Occasionally he’d applaud me on the pieces I brought in for him to work on, but more often than not I’d get a finger wagging for wasting my money.

He was particularly disappointed in me when I brought in this offering from Indochino.

There was nothing he could do about the pants – not enough material to work with he said. The liner he figured wouldn’t last me the summer. Radd routinely works on, and sells, department store quality suits. So when he criticized the makeup of my Indochino suit he wasn’t holding it up against a $1500 suit, he was comparing it to the $500-$600 suits he sells in his shop.

Nevertheless I wore the suit that summer, and even into the following school year – tight pants and all.

I can’t say exactly when I stopped wearing my Indochino suit, but as I dug it out of the back of my closet this week to put it with the rest of my old work clothes going to the Working Gear Clothing Society, I am sure glad I did.

Simply put the suit just looked cheap – and lifeless. These photos don’t do my dissatisfaction justice. From the materials, to the construction, to how it wore – I was never confident in that suit.

The wool itself was probably my biggest complaint. Although advertised as super 120s, the Chinese wool (or wherever it came from), felt greasy and contained imperfections you wouldn’t see in a comparatively priced department store suit.

The stitching holding the liner in place was sloppy, and after one summer of use was already showing signs of wear along the seams.

Although the suit wasn’t stuffed with rigid shoulder pads or an overbearing fused canvas, the drape of the jacket never sat well with me.

In short the Indochino suit has since served as my low-water mark for evaluating quality and value. I can say with authority that if you want to spend $400 on a suit, a department store or outlet mall suit will almost certainly be better put together, and cut from better cloth than one from Indochino.

When you think about it, $400 for a suit isn’t even that cheap. High street suit retailers have sales with such frequency these days that it is not uncommon to see suits regularly priced at much more than $400 available at that price. So from a pragmatic point of view when comparing the quality of an Indochino suit it’s artificial to limit the comparison to other suits regularly priced at $400.

Yes, the Brooks Brothers “346” outlet mall special won’t come with a bright metallic liner, functional button holes on the sleeves or a ticket pocket. But it will last you more than one summer at the office, and taken to a flesh-and-blood tailor will fit you just as well or better than what Indochino has to offer.

Glenfarclas of Ballindalloch, Banffshire. 17-year-old...

Sun, 06 Jan 2013 13:23:47 -0800

Glenfarclas of Ballindalloch, Banffshire. 17-year-old expression. The house style is a robust, outdoors take on Speyside, with a greater affiliation to sherry butts than bourbon barrels. The New York Times. Early evening at the Vancouver Club, Vancouver, British Columbia.

The Kent Clothes Brush. Fundamental.

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 22:44:00 -0800

On my return to the office today I was surprised to receive a late Christmas gift from one my colleagues: a Kent clothes brush.

A clothes (or suit) brush is an accessory I had long coveted, but had been unable to source in Vancouver. Although the clothes brush is bandied about on the Blogosphere as an unquestionable staple of male existence, in reality they’re a little anachronistic. The truth is that most men treat their suits and jackets rather poorly, either neglecting to clean them entirely, or dry cleaning them into shapeless oblivion. When you consider that a man’s suit collection is almost certainly the most expensive aspect of his wardrobe, it really is astonishing the way most guys treat them: stuffing them into suitcases when traveling and letting them languish on wire hangers week in and week out.

Men wear suits, in the workplace or otherwise, to look good and to look professional. Regardless of how much money you spend on your suits, keeping them clean and looking sharp should be a priority. Otherwise you look neither professional nor well dressed - and where does that leave you?Letting your suit jackets lose their shape, or the fabric lose its lustre from an abundance, or total absence, of cleaning isn’t a good decision for your career or your cheque book.

As I made my rounds to some of Vancouver’s more reputable suit dealers this fall in search of a clothes brush, the best most salesmen could offer me was a lint roller. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised by this. Nevertheless it is tragic that shops in Vancouver can trade as purveyors in the arena of #menswear, and sell thousand dollar suits, yet through ignorance or indifference don’t stock relatively inexpensive brushes. I suspect this is a state of affairs that exists beyond the city limits of Vancouver. Granted, as someone who didn’t own a clothes brush until today I suppose my indignation should be somewhat tempered.

Dry cleaning is indeed the most effective way to get dirt and stains out of a suit. However it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the chemicals used in the dry cleaning process will over time break down the natural fibres in the wool and canvas of a suit, and the crude two dimensional pressing that accompanies dry cleaning will eventually affect the shape of the jacket. Unless you’re consistently spilling food and drink on yourself, you shouldn’t be dry cleaning a suit more than twice a year.

The good news is that most dirt and dust, along with minor wrinkles, can be easily brushed away. Do this after every wear and you’ll extend the life of your suits considerably. A regular brushing whisks away crumbs and mud and whatever else you’ve picked up during your workday before it gets a chance to be ground deep into the fibres. Regular brushing is also supposed to prevent that nasty shine that well worn suit pants can develop.

I gave my suit jacket a brisk brushing this morning and I was legitimately impressed with the difference it made. If you wear your suits on a regular basis you gradually stop noticing the settling of little fibres and hairs on your jackets and trousers that have accumulated since their last cleaning. A few passes with the brush will breathe life back into the fabric.

Though I don’t doubt that there are many makers of proper clothes brushes, GB Kent & Sons Ltd. (or Kent Brushes as they are more commonly known) have set the the standard for an affordable workhorse of a brush. They’ve been making brushes since 1777, using only natural boar bristle, and have been recognized for their excellence in this field by the granting of various Royal Warrants under nine different reigns.

So buy a clothes brush, and use it often. When the wrinkles in your suits become too much, take them to a reputable cleaner for a proper pressing. This will keep your suits looking better - longer, and pare down your dry cleaning bill considerably. You’ll also be able to look down on your peers who don’t practice this time honoured #menswear tradition.

The Dark Side of the Authentocracy

Sun, 23 Dec 2012 14:59:00 -0800

There’s a dark side to the authentocracy that is #menswear. It’s a crowded marketplace of ideas, products and brands and everyone’s jostling for position – constantly having their bona fides evaluated. It’s sartorial Darwinism. It’s survival of the crispiest.

Nothing in #menswear is authentic enough, well made enough, or classic enough. Your luggage is not heirloom quality enough, and your shirting is not American-made enough. In short we’re always hungry, always hunting, always searching for something more. This isn’t a bad thing.

The guardians of #menswear, like the students of Socrates, engage in a constant dialogue in pursuit of the ideal form of authenticity. Searching in vain for a physical manifestation of true authenticity, a nebulous concept not easily defined or explained. Traditional, original, genuine – adjectives #menswear enthusiasts aimlessly sprinkle into their Christmas wish-lists and product reviews without a true consensus on what any of it means. I think this is because the disciples of #menswear are romantics by nature, and perhaps historical revisionists to some degree as well, idealizing bygone eras, fashions and techniques.

But get too far down the rabbit hole and you can end up like these geezers, steezed-out in the middle of the wilderness reading books and holding vintage magnifying glasses. Nothing wrong with that really – could be one hell of an afternoon - I just think they’ve taken the pursuit of an “authentic” experience a little too far. They’ve had too much of the #menswear Kool-Aid.

We know the holidays are a time for indulgence – more free time to cruise the Blogosphere, more dinner parties to dress up for, more Internet sales. Even the air is crisp this time of year.

Just remember these two chaps when you’re stuffing your online shopping cart on Boxing Day: too much of the #menswear Kool-Aid and you too could wind up passed out on a log in a misty ravine while your pal in yellow slacks regales you with a passage from his favourite book.

The Holiday Tartan Gift Guide

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 22:32:28 -0800

‘Tis the season for holiday Gift Guides, and it always strikes me as odd that DIY pocket squares are omitted from even the most reputable #menswear lists. I’d say a homemade pocket square, hand-cut from a meaningfully select textile is a pretty sweet - Christmas or otherwise - gift idea.

They’re inexpensive to make (the only material cost is the fabric), and they can be gifted individually or bundled together for a more substantial present. Also, in case the Blogosphere has managed to convince you otherwise, pocket squares are in fact as easy to make as they look. Assuming you put even a little thought into selecting the fabric, and minimal effort into finishing the edges, they’re an attractive and creative keepsake. In a nutshell they’re a unique gift for those hard-to-shop-for gentlemen on your list.

Though sourcing, cutting and finishing silk or another fine/expensive material is probably best left to the professionals, linen or wool is readily available at any fabric store, and is easy to work with.

The three wool squares pictured above are the traditional tartans of the three largest Atlantic Provinces: Nova Scotia (blue), New Brunswick (green) and Newfoundland (red). Good luck finding a sexier tartan than the Nova Scotian. I picked up a metre of each at a fabric store in Ottawa, and if memory serves me correct each metre of cloth made about a dozen 13” x 13” squares. A good measuring tape, a sharp pair of scissors, and a steady hand is all you need to cut your cloth into squares. Finishing the edges is a little trickier.

I suppose I could have finished them by hand, but if that were the case I’d probably still be working on them. Fortunately an experienced seamstress with a sewing machine offered to finish the edges for me. I realize that most people probably aren’t so lucky. However I would expect that for a modest sum a professional seamstress or a tailor could finish your edges for you. I would think a shopping centre dry cleaner that offers “5 minute alterations” could probably knock off a couple dozen pocket squares quickly, and on the cheap.

I thought a bundle of traditional tartan pocket squares were a fitting Christmas gift because they compliment winter tweeds well. Admittedly, they’re a little “heavy” for worsted wool. For my next batch I’ll probably go for something a little lighter, maybe with some interesting deadstock fabric.

If you’re stuck for gift ideas, this is the kind of project you could start this coming weekend and still have them folded and neatly tucked into stockings by the 24^th. Good luck.

Patinated

Sun, 09 Dec 2012 23:44:28 -0800

A month or so ago Valetmag.com did a piece titled The Essential Leather Glossary.

I used to really enjoy Valet, but unfortunately over the past year it has become so sponsor driven that it’s almost devoid of any product-neutral content. Valet is still worth keeping on (or adding to) your favourites menu though, it’s useful for trend spotting, and Valet does a decent job curating publications like GQ, Esquire and other more mainstream medias that #menswear snobs might not otherwise bother with.

So to Valet’s credit I thought the leather glossary was a good idea. A lot of terms get thrown around in the blogosphere, and not everyone is familiar with the nomenclature. But #menswear enthusiast or not, everyone appreciates leather goods. Unfortunately not all “leather” is created equal, and the waters are further muddied by a myriad of terms, grades and styles that can and do mislead unsuspecting consumers.

So while Valet’s Essential Leather Glossary was a good start I thought I’d lean on Wikipedia and Google to flush the list out a little.

Sourcing your next leather belt, boots or sofa is really not that much different than any other product: a deal too good to be true, likely is. Products made out of full grain leather have fixed material costs that can’t be avoided. If you’re spending less than $200 on a pair or shoes, or say $50 bucks on a belt, you aren’t getting “real” leather. It’s like they teach us in 1L - caveat emptor.

[Above is a Tommy Hilifiger belt I got years ago. It’s aged nicely.]

Think those shoes or wallet you just bought that are stamped “genuine leather” are made entirely of leather? Wrong. Although I have no idea who investigates or enforces clothing labeling practices, it’s worth knowing that manufacturers of leather articles are “allowed” to construct a product that is traded as “genuine leather” even though it contains some non-leather components, provided the incorporation on non-leather materials does not exceed specific levels.

For example the European Commission Directive 94/11 on “footwear labeling” states that the upper, lining, or sole of a shoe can be labelled “genuine leather” so long as 80% of the surface area is in fact made of leather. If the standard in Europe is 80%, dare I speculate what the standard is in China?

Ever have a belt or watch strap split open on you, revealing a gooey or foamy interior? Yet that same article was stamped “leather”, “genuine leather” or “real leather”? I’ve included a couple photos in this post of a watch strap and belt I own, both stampled “genuine leather” and in both cases you can see where they will, or have, split apart.

So long as the outer layer, and lining of the belt/strap are made of leather, a manufacturer can fill the space between these two strips with other materials provided “no other materials compromise more than 50% of the surface area”, and still call their product “genuine leather”. Confusing eh? I haven’t investigated further to determine how surface area is calculated, and it’s really beside the point: when purchasing leather products trust your instincts, and research the brands, because you sure as hell can’t trust labels.

The Good

Bridle Leather (very good) -Vegetable tanned cowhide used for making equestrian equipment. Bridle leather refers to the way that a piece of leather (full grain cow hide) is finished at the tannery. Bridle leather has both the flesh and grain side of the leather stuffed with greases and finished with wax. Because this is a labour intensive and expensive process only the best grades of leather are selected for this treatment. Bridle leather is also made in comparatively fewer tanneries.

Full Grain Leather - Leather that has not been corrected in any way with sanding or buffing, beyond the original hair removal. This allows the natural markings, imperfections and character of the leather to show through. The grain remains allowing the fiber strength and durability. The grain also has breathability, resulting in less moisture from prolonged contact. Rather than wearing out, it will develop a patina over time (see my Tommy Hilfiger belt above for example). High quality leather furniture and footwear are often made from full-grain leather. Because full grain leathers must be cleaner hides to start with, full grain leather is always more expensive than its corrected or split cousins. Belts, watch straps, and most shoes should ideally be made of full grain leather.

Top-grain Leather - Is the most common type of leather used in high-end leather products, and is the second-highest quality (second to full grain that is). It has had the “split” layer separated away, making it thinner and more pliable than full-grain. Its surface has been sanded and a finish coat added which results in a colder, plastic feel with less breathability, and it will not develop a natural patina. So long as the finish remains unbroken, top grain leather has greater stain resistance than full grain leather.

Nubuck - A leather where the surface has been buffed and brushed to create a soft, velvety effect. While suede is created from the flesh (inner) side of a hide, nubuck is created using the grain (outer) side, making it stronger.

Oxblood - A dark, reddish-brown colour used to dye leather, and is used often for cordovan.

Patina - The rich, worn-in hue or lustre that develops in a quality piece of leather over time with age and wear.

Shearling - Sheepskin or lambskins that have been tanned with the wool intact (think nice leather slippers).

Vegetable Tanning - A method of hide tanning which utilizes materials from organic materials such as bark, instead of the traditional chemicals. Vegetable tanned leather is stiffer than traditionally-tanned leather, and gets darker from your body’s natural oils the more you use it. Bridle leather will typically be vegetable tanned.

Nappa - Soft, full grain leather made from unsplit sheep or lambskin. It is usually tanned with alum and chromium salts and dyed throughout the whole piece.

Glove Leather - Lambskin or other very soft, high quality leathers typically used for gloves. High-end English shoes will typically be lined with glove leather.

Calfskin - A high quality, fine grained leather made from the skins of young cattle.

Cordovan - Also known as “shell cordovan,” this leather is made from the firm shell portion of a horse (read: the butt). Cordovan has a characteristic finish, and is very durable.

Grain - A term used to describe the natural characteristics of an unprocessed hide, such as its texture, wrinkles and markings.

Suede - A finish (not technically a type of leather) where the top surface of the hide has been removed by abrasion and then brushed to create a soft, fuzzy feel. Also known as buffed leather, similar to nubuck.

The Bad

Corrected-grain leather - Any leather that has had an artificial grain applied to its surface. Taking hides that do not meet the high standards for full grain use, the imperfections are sanded off and an artificial grain is impressed into the surface, and then dressed up with stains or dyes. Most corrected-grain leather is dyed with a strong pigment to further obscure any imperfections, and hide the corrections. The artificial grain embossed on the leather will often be “pebbled” or take on the appearance of an exotic skin like alligator.

Split leather - Leather created from the fibrous part of the hide left once the top-grain of the rawhide has been separated from the hide. During the splitting operation, the top-grain and drop split are separated. The drop split can be further split (thickness allowing) into a middle split and a flesh split. Split leather then has an artificial layer applied to the surface of the split and is embossed with a leather grain (bycast leather). Splits are also used to create suede. The strongest suedes are usually made from grain splits (that have the grain completely removed) or from the flesh split that has been shaved to the correct

Patent Leather - Leather where one surface has been covered with a flexible, waterproof film which has a lustrous mirror-like surface. This coating was formerly built up by the application of various varnishes and lacquers using linseed oil. The original process was developed in New Jersey, by inventor Seth Boyden in 1818. Today, patent leather  usually has a plastic coating. Not crispy.

The Ugly

Reconstituted leather - Composed of up to 90% leather fibres (often scrap from leather tanneries or leather workshops) bonded together with some form of plastic binder to create a look and feel similar to that of leather at a fraction of the cost. The resulting material is not as durable as real leather and is recommended for use only if the product will be used infrequently. This is shit.

Bonded Leather - Most often found in shitty upholstery. Bonded leather is generally a vinyl or polyurethane surface that contains about 17% leather fiber in its backing material. This plastic material is then stamped to give it a leather-like texture.

Bycast Leather - A split leather with a layer of polyurethane applied to the surface and then embossed. Bycast was originally made for the shoe industry and recently was adopted by the furniture industry. The original formula created by Bayer was strong but expensive. The result is a plastic material that is slightly stiffer but cheaper than top-grain leather but has a much more consistent texture. Because its surface is completely covered in plastic, is easier to clean and maintain. Your shitty co-worker’s shoes are probably made of bycast leather.

A Sunday Ritual

Mon, 03 Dec 2012 23:53:59 -0800

For my money there’s no better way to round out a Sunday evening than with a stiff drink, a tin of polish, and couple pairs of broken-in Goodyear welted shoes. In my case Allen Edmonds.

There’s something extremely satisfying about brushing off the nicks and soot from the previous week’s travels, and then buffing them back up to their previous lustre. Well patinated shoes aren’t something you can buy off the shelf; it’s a character in the leather that’s slowly acquired over months and years of wear, and layers of creams, waxes, and polishes.

With the exception of shoes reserved for the most formal of occasions, all leather shoes look better after they’ve seen a few miles.

Buy good shoes. Take good care of them. They’ll last forever. They’ll look awesome.

Yes, that’s the siren song of the #menswear blogosphere, but it’s also true. Wear nice shoes, and no one notice’s your shitty suit. Wear shitty shoes, and no one notices that crispy Kiton you picked up in Naples during Yacht Week.

I’m not saying we all need to have Lobbs or Gazianos on our feet, just that at the very least self-respecting men should strive to wear welted calfskins, made by craftsmen.

Nothing says “I don’t get it” like wearing rubber-soled, bonded leather, bluchers. Extra points if they’re square-toed.

I don’t care if you are on a student’s budget. Take your clothing budget. Cut it in half. Now take one of those halves, and buy some decent shoes.

Allen Edmonds, Meermin, and Loake to name a few are well made, use full-grain leathers, and can be had on a budget. Buying new still too much? Go on eBay - buy shoes off dead guys. I do. And stick to oxfords for the workplace, broguing optional.

Oxford v. Blucher? Don’t know the difference? Get yourself sorted. Start with Wikipedia.

There is no excuse to be the guy in the elevator with the shitty department store slip-ons. Yah, the sexy assistant who got off two floors ago noticed - but more importantly the dude who sits in the corner office you covet noticed. And judged accordingly.

A further thought on maintenance: leather soles need to be treated with respect.

Wear them every other day at the most, and keep cedar shoe trees in them between wears. Shoe trees are great for odour control, maintaining shape, and wicking up moisture. Wet leather soles unfortunately break down rather quickly. If your shoes ever get really wet, which will happen, let them dry on their sides, naturally - don’t rush them with heat. This is fundamental.

James Purdey & Sons. Founded in London in 1814. Granted its...

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 23:13:45 -0800

James Purdey & Sons. Founded in London in 1814. Granted its first Royal Warrant of Appointment in 1868 by HRH The Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII. Producer of the world’s finest sporting shotguns and rifles.

My grandfather passed away yesterday. He was 89. Bob was a...

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 22:57:28 -0800

My grandfather passed away yesterday. He was 89. Bob was a veteran of the Second World War, and a graduate of Dalhousie Law School, class of ‘51. In ‘71 he was appointed Queens Counsel. From ‘85-‘86 he served as president of the Nova Scotia Barristers Society. During that time he penned a series of light-hearted, but poignant articles on the legal profession. I apologize for the poor photo quality - but I think it’s worth squinting for. Articles like these let us reflect on the traditions and shared experiences that are unique to our profession.

No. 10 Savile Row

Tue, 13 Nov 2012 23:40:00 -0800

This fall I discovered a brilliant BBC Four series titled “Savile Row” which I’ve been shamelessly gorging myself on via Youtube. “Savile Row” is something of hybrid between a documentary and reality television. The series follows a handful of tailors and cutters from the Row as they narrate their dying trade’s struggle with high street competition and a dwindling customer base. You can check it out here.

Although the series is a few years old, if you’re not familiar with Savile Row, or English bespoke suit making in general, it’s definitely required watching. With the explosion of internet-based “tailors” offering “custom made” suits, and “bespoke” entering the #menswear vernacular as a throw-away label to be freely exploited, the consequence of knowing the history and workings of the Row has never been greater.

Recently my girlfriend floated the idea of trip to Scotland in the spring to see a friend of hers from college. My understanding is that although Glasgow would be our ultimate destination – I’d get to spend a couple days in and around London first. Naturally this has got the Row on my mind.

There are approximately twenty tailors operating on Savile Row proper, and countless others who have set up shop just off the hallowed strip. Though from the curb it may be hard to distinguish one tailor from his neighbour, each outpost of bespoke suit making has a history, expertise, and subtle style uniquely theirs.

An article I read recently on The Rake about Dege & Skinner reminded me that before anyone gets serious about making their first bespoke purchase they had better do their homework.

Dege & Skinner was founded in 1865, and is one of the oldest firms still trading on the Row, holding the royal warrants of HM The Queen, HM The Sultan of Oman and HM The King of Bahrain. Known for its military and equestrian pedigree (military tailoring is 25% of the firm’s business), and as the master of bespoke ceremonial uniform, Dege & Skinner fitted the Princes William and Harry in dress uniforms for a Royal Portrait in 2009.

Royalty aside, it is quite rare for a firm on the Row to disclose its client list. While to North American audiences this rather reclusive practice may invite criticisms of squandered marketing opportunities, the client’s of Savile Row appreciate the discretion. When your work speaks for itself, and your business has spanned more than a century, word of mouth is a form of advertising that no marketing campaign could ever mirror.

Despite the best efforts of the modest and conservative tailors on the Row, occasionally the prying eyes of #menswear do get a glimpse of which celebrities frequent which tailors – in some cases to the chagrin of the firm’s I am sure.

At a recent sale of Michael Jackson’s estate it came to light that he was a Dege & Skinner man. Apparently Dege’s military pedigree and Michael’s passion for epaulettes was a natural pairing.

In the picture above we see Michael in a Dege jacket, speaking with the King of Bahrain (who awarded Dege & Skinner with a royal warrant). One has to wonder if they found time to talk about anything other than #menswear.

The Dege cut is not known for being distinctive, not like Anderson & Sheppard, Huntsman or Kilgour – firm’s whose suits are said to be cut with subtle but signature lines that are detectable by those in the know.

Like all the historic Savile Row tailoring workshops, Dege is now populated by an army of young men and women drawn to the trade by a renewed understanding that a nation’s economy stands or falls by its ability to manufacture.

The emphasis on recruiting, training and retaining the top skilled labour is pronounced at Dege. To put the bona fides of Savile Row tailor in perspective, to become a military tailor or cutter at Dege & Skinner it takes three to five years’ learning under a master, and then a further five years experience to get to the top tier.

Apprentices are willing to commit this kind of time for many of the same reasons that customers are willing to commit thousands of pounds: because the history of Savile Row says these loyalties are not misplaced. The success and longevity of firms like Dege & Skinner speaks to the enduring quality of their craftsmanship and the calibre of their employees. It would be a difficult task indeed to find clothiers anywhere in the world who have traded out of the same shop, using the same methods, for as long as the tailors of the Row have.

In 2011 Dege & Skinner signed a 15-year lease on No. 10 Savile Row reassuring #menswear enthusiast that recession or not this pillar of the bespoke trade isn’t moving off the Row anytime soon.

Dege may not equal Henry Poole’s full house of 40 Royal Warrants, nor occupy the coveted address of Gieves & Hawkes at No. 1 Savile Row, but if you’re in the market for an understated but sublime English bespoke tailoring experience, one worthy of pop stars and kings, then I understand Dege to be worthwhile port of call. I know I for one will be darkening their doorstep in the spring.

The Suits of James Bond

Sat, 03 Nov 2012 13:18:00 -0700

With the latest James Bond installment, Skyfall, hitting theatres in North America this coming Friday, I thought it would be worthwhile to pay homeage to the character that has given #menswear so much.

Although we didn’t realize it at the time, for most young men James Bond movies were our first exposure to the concept of “dressing well” - to being “debonair”. Though as boys we sat down to watch a Bond flick to see car chases and gunplay, we couldn’t escape the conclusion hat 007 was suave guy, who knew how to handle himself in a shirt and tie. Even at that age it wasn’t a big leap to connect dressing well, and carrying yourself with some confidence, to excelling at your job and talking to beautiful and exotic women. That such an impression can be made on young men who don’t yet fully appreciate what it means to be well dressed, and that this sentiment can be conveyed without trademarked logos or explicit references to clothing labels, is a testament to the Bond franchise, and likely a nod to the timelessness of #menswear.

Today I think most men find it hard to walk away from watching a Bond film without thinking about upping their sartorial game. Bond’s style is traditional, conservative and above all masculine, which it what makes it so relatable. 007’s wardrobe is built around well made, and properly tailored suits, shoes and jackets. Nothing more. Bond makes wearing a suit look desirable, attractive, and for lack of a better word “cool.” Seeing 007 wrestle a Russian secret agent, evade capture in a speedboat chase, and share a martini with a stunning woman - all in the same suit - is a message to the masses that suits are more than just stuffy office-wear.

Though the 20th century has had other sharply dressed heroes who have made the transition to the silver screen - Gatbsy and Holmes to name but two - neither of these fictional gentleman have inspired men the same way. The recent Sherlock Holmes movies starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law are a fine example of this. Though Holmes and Watson are unquestionably well dressed throughout these recent Hollywood Blockbusters - their fashions come across slightly affected or cumbersome for many; it is unlikely generations of young men will ever adapt puffy shirts, capes, or three-piece tweed suits for their evening wear. I think the same could be said for the upcoming release of the new Gatsby movie. I don’t doubt the blogosphere will be exploding with discussion over the Brooks Brothers styled outfits, but it is unlikely that bowties and tophats will become widely accepted in the New Year.

For these reasons Vestis Legis recommends Matt Spaiser’s tireless efforts curating the suits of James Bond. Fabrics, tailors, buttons and lapels – The Suits of James Bond is a blog with some real substance. It’s worth checking out for inspiration, or cheer nostalgia.

A proper law firm letterhead

Wed, 31 Oct 2012 23:30:35 -0700

It wasn’t so long ago that law firm letterhead would contain the name of every lawyer in the firm. Though today such layouts are less common, I always take notice of the modern firms that still adhere to this traditional - almost anachronistic - way of doing business. I’ve always thought the practice makes sense: it’s good to know exactly who you are dealing with when you receive any sort or formal correspondence. Putting the names of all the lawyers acting for you, or against you, out in the open is a great way for all concerned to spot potential conflicts, or potential allies.

I was doing some document review the other day when I came across some correspondence from Vancouver’s now defunct firm of Russell & DuMoulin, pictured above. The size and detail of the Russell & DuMoulin letterhead was so impressive I couldn’t help but take a picture (with a regulation size highlighter nearby for scale). As you can see it took almost the entire width of the paper, and about 1/4 of its length, just to list everyone. It’s hard not to be impressed perusing the generous register.

It’s also worth noting that this letter is not an artifact from the legal dark ages, it was written in 1989. I’m not sure why the formal, and rather detailed, letterhead went out of fashion: it’s possible that it was simply a creature of a law society requirement that went extinct when the rule was relaxed; maybe it was nothing more than a conservative form of marketing that has fallen out fashion; or perhaps the lengthy and proud masthead was a casuality of the modern era of national and international law firm mergers. In 2000 Russell & DuMoulin merged with Toronto and Quebec (Montreal and Quebec City) based Fasken Martineau to become the now 770 lawyer-strong Fasken Martineau DuMoulin LLP. I realize 770 names might be masthead overkill.

Nevertheless, for those firms still small enough to manage it, the traditional legal masthead is a trapping of the profession that’s worth honouring.