This past weekend I had two articles published that readers might appreciate.

In How to Spend It, the latest installment of my ‘Inside Track’ column looked at the cloth development process at Charvet, with an interview with the lovely Jean-Claude Colban. Read it to find out about trends in whites and blind dyers in Aleppo. A full version of the interview will be published on the blog on Boxing Day.

And in the Financial Times, I was asked to write about the variation in shirts for black tie. It’s a crying shame that so many men wear plain shirts with their tuxes these days, without a stud or pleat in sight. The column won’t teach much to regular readers of this blog, but they will learn how Karl Lagerfeld commissions his new shirt designs from Hilditch & Key in Paris. 

On Monday my latest column for How to Spend It was published, in which I talked to Jean-Claude Colban (above) of Charvet in Paris about the state of the cotton and silk industries – and his project to create the perfect white shirting. Below is the full interview, which I’m sure readers will appreciate more than the HTSI audience.

What is changing at the moment in terms of the way you produce your materials?

Colours are an interesting subject. The world’s colours, particularly for silks, are becoming both more standardised and more ‘solid’. This is the technical term for colours that are more resistant to light, humidity, sweat and so on. It is judged by standardised tests, and certain dying techniques and shades are known to be more solid. 

Dyers call it progress. Certainly it is in demand in certain markets. But it narrows the range of colours that are easily available. This season, for example, I used as a reference a colour from our records in 1939 – a bluish-green. I gave a swatch of it to a dyer, and he came back with four shades, none of which were close. Expressing my surprise and disappointment, I tried to push one of his buttons – his sense of pride. He came back with two more, one supposedly his best attempt but still a ‘solid’ colour, and the other closer but less solid. I had to push another button – calling his father. This time we got the exact right colour, with no more discussion about solidity. 

Is it caused by cost-saving, ignorance or something else?

Often, it is just an excuse. It is easier to work with a small range of colours. There is a growing lack of knowledge, about colour in particular but textiles in general, that leads to people trying to get away with easy solutions. It is very concerning.

Do you think customers can tell the difference?

I think Catherine Deneuve, the actress, said ‘I can distinguish even between two green peas’. And this is true of more than just Catherine Deneuve. But you need to see the two peas alongside each other, otherwise many will not notice. 

The colour difference is particularly important because many weaving techniques are based on subtly different shades. We are known for what some journalists call the use of a ‘hidden colour’, which is a decent approximation for something I never explained very clearly. The fact is we use shade differences between warp and weft to create certain effects, and having to choose from a standardised palette is a problem. Luxury is also a matter of choice of colour. 

Does it matter how natural the colours are?

Absolutely: colours were produced until around 300 years ago entirely with natural dyes. In some parts of the world, such as India and Syria, it was done with natural dyes until maybe 20 years ago. There was a famous silk dyer in Aleppo, a blind man, who knew the perfect shades just by the smell. It’s true – it’s a documented story. Now this kind of knowledge has unfortunately gone. 

I am myself very fond of natural dye because I think anything that is a shade from nature is pleasing to the eye. This is an idea that has been developed by people much more knowledgeable than I. They say, for instance, that the artificial colours of soccer players create a significant amount of aggression, whether willingly or unwillingly. 

There is an endless capacity for nuance with natural dye. Over the course history, we have generally always begun with natural dyes and then reproduced them will artificial or chemical processes. 

Are there any advantages to artificial, solid colours, other than the obvious resistance to sweat etc?

The colours are easier to reproduce. The process is more consistent, at least in theory. 

Is consistency a big problem with dyers today? 

Oh yes. In fact I would say that the item that has the highest degree of sophistication and luxury, particularly in shirting, is a plain, piece-dyed fabric. Because the plainer the fabric, the most noticeable every defect is. 

If you want to weave a jacquard solid for a tie, it used to be very simple. Now, with dying the way it is, you often mix together six shuttles of supposedly the same colour, just to average out the differences. 

In fact, now that you understand that, you might understand that the thing we are most proud of, that we have developed recently, is our programme of solid white shirts. White shirts might be seen as an obvious thing, something plain that can be taken for granted. But that is precisely why they cannot be. The simplicity is revealing – it shows all defects. 

White has aspects of candour, of honesty, and this is one thing we pay a lot of attention to. 

When did the project begin?

It was two years ago. We first identified the first cotton to use – which was not obvious, because it’s not just a question of the length of the staple, but also the shine it will produce in the cotton. It also had to be consistent production that we could secure for ourselves. 

Then we went into the best weave. This isn’t simple, particularly for poplin where people make lots of assumptions about warp and weft count, number of picks and so on. So we did a few things our own way – I hope you’ll excuse me for being a little reserved on what they were.

Then you get onto finishing, which is very important with cotton fabrics. As I’m sure you know, there is a tendency to use finer and finer yarn and weave it faster and faster, which produces a fabric which is extremely harsh. The solution, then, is to soften it – often with silicone. As the silicone-haters that we are, we developed our own natural finishing for it. 

Which bit was the most fun?

Probably the next stage, selecting the colour. Bluish whites were in fashion for a long time; yellowish whites have a very limited Middle Eastern market; pink whites have been trending very strongly for the past five years; in the end, we went with a slightly purplish white. 

And I wouldn’t notice the difference between any of them – unless they were alongside each other.

Indeed. If you notice the colour, there’s a problem. 

The final fabric is available in poplin, oxford and panama, pinpoint and two twills. All at our entry-level price point for shirts. It’s a nice little collection and it was a very fun process. More than that, I think it proves something about what we can do. If you can’t produce a great white fabric, then what’s the point?

Do you think it’s important for people to understand a process like this?

Yes, because there is a shocking gap in the perception of cotton quality at the moment. People know that two-fold fabrics are better than single-fold, and they know to look for a higher thread count. But beyond that they know nothing. And the problem with high thread counts is that while the yarn will be extremely fine, it is not resistant, it is sheer and it can break. If you point to that man and say ‘The King has no clothes’, his response is, ‘But it’s a 300 two-ply’. That’s all. It’s the same as fine suitings or high gauges on knitwear.

In the end, people have to put their faith in us. And we have to strive to live up to that faith. I remember when we decided to test every single piece of cloth that was sent to us, for example. No one else was doing it and it was painful, but it was the only way we could guarantee consistency. 

In the end, the value of a brand is nothing more than the trust you can put in it. 

The pea coat being made by Davide Taube at Gieves & Hawkes is slowly coming together.

As with previous projects, we are approachng the design I had in mind wanderingly, through a series of fittings. No matter how much we discuss these things and Davide sketches a concept in advance, when we consider the piece in the flesh several presumptions come to light. Davide naturally cuts a pea coat quite big and boxy, for example, while I always want such coats as close as is practical. This is actually a second fitting, therefore, but it has simply been rebasted to a slimmer fit.

The coat is made to fit over a jacket. It has slightly larger shoulders as a result, and is about an inch longer than a standard jacket. A pea coat is not as warm as an overcoat, but has other advantages, including being much easier to wear on the Boris bikes I often use to travel around London. Perhaps that makes it the modern equivalent of the car coat.

Unlike other overcoats I have had made (including one by Vergallo, coming soon) the fit is not a compromise between covering a jacket and knitwear, and the half-belt at the back will not be adjustable either. Although dark navy in colour, the lines – particularly through the back – will add a lot of visual interest. Although of course they will not be as pronounced as below, with the white basting stitches highlighting the side seams and belt.

We’re undecided on dark-brown horn or vintage brass buttons. As is often the case with buttons, the choice will radically change the look of the piece – it’s always something worth considering for guys buying suits or overcoats off the peg, for that reason. A couple of alterations and new buttons can make a world of difference.

Although I still like writing practical pieces, I don’t do as many as I used to. One reason, I think, is that it’s easy to feel that you are giving the same advice over and over again.

As I looked through old posts in the process of cataloguing this site, I kept on coming across pieces that I liked, particularly around colour combinations and pocket handkerchiefs. In order to present a comprehensive guide, but not repeat exactly the same text, I’ve summarised a few of my favourite posts on colour and linked to the more detailed posts.

1 – Autumnal colours usually work well together. Browns and greens, burnt oranges and bright yellows. See how it’s done with Paul Stuart in 2012 and 2008 posts.

2 – You know which colours are harmonious, you just don’t realise it yet. When picking out a tie or pocket handkerchief, consider the other colours you turned down elsewhere. This is harmony.

3 – My three favourite and unusual combinations are pink/green, purple/yellow and blue/brown. Tone is key to all of them. It’s much easier if one of them is much paler than the other.

4 – For sweaters under suits, consider purple or bottle green under navy, burgundy under a mid-grey, and anything bright under hairy tweed.

5 – Green is the most versatile colour of sock. It works particularly nicely under a navy suit with deep-brown shoes.

6 – Black is for evening, for glamour. Even then, navy often works better as has deeper colour. And it’s always preferable to black at any other time of the day.

7 – Charcoal is the only colour that should not be worn with brown shoes. Presuming of course that you have read point six, and are not wearing a black suit. And here’s how to wear brown shoes. (Thirty-one comments on that post!)

8 – Don’t forget the ‘Rules and how to break them‘ series. Particularly, in the case of this post, where and how it is ok to wear brown in town.

Image: Taka from Liverano & Liverano, courtesy of The Armoury. Note that the handkerchief and tie could easily be swapped and create a different, though similarly stylish, ensemble

Capes are extremely practical things. They cover all forms of clothing, from tailoring to the bulkiest knitwear, without any fussing with sleeves or fit about the waist. They are highly versatile, as well as being warm and a great cover in the rain.

I was reminded of this when I finally tracked down a cape I came across in a Portuguese magazine almost two years ago. I had been shown the magazine by my Portuguese mother-in-law; in it photographer Jose Cabral described the recreation of a cape worn by Portuguese shepherds, and later favoured by local monks.

The Capote, as it is called, is made of three layers of a heavy wool known as Burel. This is a traditional fabric originating from Manteigas near Serra da Estrela in Portugal and only made in two factories in the country. It is densely woven and has a felted finish; today it is mostly used for throws, blankets and even home décor. The cape is also made in a variation called Surrobeco, which uses an even tighter weave.

Jose directed me to Beyond Fabric, the Tumblr blog and retail site run by Miguel Vieira. Miguel has recreated the Capote in four colours. It has a slimmer fit than the traditional garment, a little polyester to the Burel and a sheep’s wool collar rather than the traditional fox. The latter two make them more affordable and the cloth more resistant to rain.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I can get away with one. I tried the brown colour and while it is beautiful – and as I said, highly practical – it is just too unusual. If anyone out there is more of a peacock than me, however, I highly recommend the Capote.

Images: Menco Nieuwenhuis, buyer at Oger and author of La Couleur Blanche, wearing a Capote. Menco is also the illustrator of the great images on the Viola Milano site, whom I wrote about recently on The Rake. Small world.

A reader recently asked me what hat I wear during the winter. It breaks down into three options:

The trilby

A ‘proper hat’, as many people seem to refer to it, a trilby or fedora is the default option with tailoring. I have worn Christy’s, Bates, Lock and Borsalino, but my favourite is the Traveller model from Lock’s.

The Traveller is made of a thin felt and is unlined. This is intended to make it easy to roll up and travel with, which you can certainly do, but the biggest advantage for me is that it makes the hat softer and more casual. The brim is never perfect, never crisp and sharp, and I find that makes it easier to wear with tweed jacket, even leather. Try turning the brim down all the way round for a more casual look too.    

The beanie

Sadly, the default choice for men these days. Scared of a ‘proper hat’ and with few other options, men go uncovered or wear a too-casual beanie with too-formal tailoring.

A beanie can sometimes work, however, particularly with tweed or a big overcoat. It just needs to be the most formal version of a beanie there is: dark, thin and short. Most beanies are too thick, making them warmer but casual. A smarter one would be made of thin cashmere, with light ribbing. Most are also worn too low on the head – roll it up higher, so not all the ear is covered. And navy is obviously the smartest colour, though mid-grey (again, obviously) is a good second.

Elia Caliendo works this look particularly well. I have two of his hats from Milan – I will dig out the details for a future post and take a few photos.

The fur hat

As shown in the top photo. These are from Eggert, the Icelandic furrier stocked at Anderson & Sheppard – a wonderful man, who I was fortunate enough to meet recently and will write more about soon.

This is hat as accessory rather than necessity, but it is very warm and mine has kept my head cosy in Moscow, Scotland and Milan (the coldest of the three). Worn either formally or casually, it is a great option. Mine is deerskin with racoon fur I believe, and cost £450.

Top image: Luke Carby, at Anderson & Sheppard. Middle image: High Snobiety, from Pitti Uomo January 2013

I have never been a big fan of fur. Not for any ethical reason, but simply because I have rarely found pieces that are subtle enough to appeal to me. The lambskin coat above, before you raise a quizzical eyebrow, does not count as subtle either. But it is made by a lovely, large Icelandic man named Eggert Jóhannsson, who I was fortunate enough to meet a few weeks back.

Eggert is a craftsman. They’re easy to spot, because they always seem relieved when someone asks them a question that is technical, rather than aesthetic. Eggert smiled broadly when I began asking about the fur trade, about where his fur is sourced and how it is stitched. And he had some interesting points.

The coat above is from a collection called Born Again. Every year in Iceland, around 2% of new lambs die during their first few days and their bodies are thrown away. Eggert hates waste, so he tried to find a way to rescue the skins. After several months of experiments with shepherds and the local tannery, he found a method to save them – and they are used to make the Born Again coat.

Fur is wasted in a similar way in many countries. They include red fox in Germany, muskrat in Holland and brushtail possum in New Zealand. In some countries, culled animals are thrown away in their thousands rather than give them to furriers and risk controversy.

Eggert uses many other sources, including farmed animals and local hunters. “Whether indigenous people or not, they all have an equal knowledge of and respect for the local ecosystems and the animals that live within them,” he says.

I don’t claim to be an expert on fur, or to have a position. But these debates are rarely black and white, and Eggert’s enthusiasm is infective. In fact his passion reminds me of that of Pier Luigi Loro Piana, who sadly passed away last month. Men with such zeal for raw materials are increasingly rare these days.

A range of Eggert’s coats are available to try on and order bespoke from the Anderson & Sheppard haberdashery on Clifford Street. As mentioned last week, I am a particular fan of his hats.

Top image: Luke Carby

This is probably the busiest week of the year. I tend to avoid the fashion shows, but there are now some great tailoring events in the calendar – including The Rake’s party at Claridge’s on Sunday night and the English Gentleman tonight. And then tomorrow we’re off to Pitti for the rest of the week. 

Sunday was a lovely event, with the best of Savile Row mixing with a handful of French and Italian houses, plus the best of the luxury brands such as Ralph Lauren. The full photos are over on The Rake’s website. Look out for Sarah Murray of The Rake in her beautiful Chittleborough & Morgan suit – like mine, but slimmer and sharper. It’s annoying sometimes how good men’s tailoring looks on women.  

Above, with Lorenzo Cifonelli, and below, dinner afterwards with Cifonelli and Vitale Barberis.

Liverano & Liverano jacket, Satriano Cinque shirt, Drake’s satin tie and Simonnot Goddard handkerchief.


Top photo: Luke Carby

The latest installment of the English Gentleman show, which took place last night in the Churchill War Rooms, was an absolute triumph.

The underground command centre, well-known to boys and history students in the UK, provided a highly atmospheric backdrop to the Savile Row tailoring. Each war room became a vignette of strategy and military planning, with the models gathered around maps and ranks of variously coloured phones.

Elsewhere, there were living quarters and kitchens – with two Chittleborough & Morgan models preparing sausages on the gas cooker. Although the historic nature of all the props meant that the frying pan was actually the only thing they were allowed to touch.

Also nice to see such celebrities as Michael Gambon, Tommy Hilfiger and Elton John supporting Savile Row.

A few of the pictures of me from Pitti this year. Above, in brown tweed Caliendo jacket (more on that in a couple of weeks), Anderson & Sheppard flannels and Ralph Lauren madder-like orange handkerchief. 

Tweed such as this goes well with lots of colours, but particularly autumnal ones such as burnt orange and dark green. The navy tie (just in shot, from Viola Milano) anchors the outfit. Its grenadine texture and the madder of the hank are both better with casual cloths such as tweed, for me, than regular silk. 

 
Anderson & Sheppard flannel suit, dark green Isaia tie and cream handkerchief with lime-green edging from Lissom & Muster. Tan bespoke oxfords from Gaziano & Girling (again, detailed post coming soon). 

This jacket has the narrowest wrap-over of any DB suit John Hitchcock cut for me – 3.5 inches – and I specified it for all subsequent double-breasteds. It has all the advantages of a narrow wrap, such as a larger gap for shirt and tie, but is far enough away from the trendy one-and-a-half-breasted jackets at Brunello Cucinelli and others.

With Tommaso of Stefano Bemer, with whom we always stay. Note the roll of the shirt collar around my tie. I asked Luca of Satriano Cinque to lengthen my button-down collars slightly to achieve this roll, and it means the shirt works both with and without a tie. Otherwise the button-down lies flat and rather lifeless when fastened. Shoes are Edward Green Top Drawer.

Trying another version of Miguel’s Portugese cape. A better colour than the brown I tried before, and a better size (the smallest) but still a little too extravagant.  

Other pictures around the net, including on Thousand Yard Style and Pitti Immagine on Instagram.

In my report on Pitti Uomo for Essence magazine I examine the manufacturers – such as Begg, Merola and Bresciani – that are becoming brands in their own right. Read it here.

Pictured: Pino Luciano of Neapolitan tailors Orazio Luciano. It’s also interesting how bespoke makers such as Luciano and Salvatore Piccolo are shifting towards RTW, and the influence their bespoke background has on it.

Image: Luke Carby

Following many requests from readers, I’m pleased to announce that we have secured a slot with John Smedley for another run of the popular Dartmoor jumper, which I designed last year.

However, we have a decision to make.

As with previous Permanent Style collaborations, the Dartmoors will only be made in one colour, in order for it to be economical. The first edition was navy (‘midnight’ in the Smedley palette). This second order could be in navy again, to give those that missed out last time a chance, or we could go for a new colour, such as grey (‘silver’), dark brown (‘espresso’) or forest green.

You can see the colours below. I’d go for grey myself, because it is so versatile, but I’ll leave it up to you to decide. Please use the comment function on this post to express your opinion. At the end of the day tomorrow, I will count up the comments and let Smedley know. Orders will then start on Monday.

For those that weren’t aware of the Dartmoor – the perfect long-sleeved polo – read the original post here.

For those with an interest in Neapolitan tailoring, shirtmaker Satriano Cinque and tailor Solito (Luca and Luigi) will be back in their usual room at Holland & Sherry on Savile Row at the end of the month. They will be there on Friday 31st January all day, and Saturday 1st February in the morning. 

Luigi Solito is also carrying a nice range of silk/wool scarves, pictured below.

Salvatore Piccolo is best known as a Neapolitan shirt brand – his shirts and accessories are stocked in a few leading stores, including Trunk in London and United Arrows in Tokyo. But he started as a bespoke shirtmaker, learning from his mother, and still has several hundred bespoke customers around the world. Although RTW clothing is growing rapidly it is still almost half of the business.

I am always interested in companies that do significant amounts of both bespoke and readymade, and the way each informs the other. Turnbull & Asser, for example, recently introduced a slimmer shirt whose shape was based on analysis of recent bespoke orders. The only feedback most designers get is how many units they sell in each six-month season; bespoke customers tell you exactly what their perfect shirt is, day-in day-out.  

Salvatore’s shirts are all made to the same specification, whether bespoke or RTW. This means several aspects of handwork, about the minimum for Neapolitan bespoke: hand-attached collars, inserted sleeves, shoulder seams and buttonholes. 

But he also adds in little points that he has learnt from bespoke orders. The sleeves, for example, all have a little tuck in the inside of the elbow so they are slightly bent. It’s a tiny thing, but it makes sense: you rarely hold your arms dead straight.

Aside from the bespoke influence, Salvatore’s biggest strength is his depth of involvement with cloth. His Oxford shirting, for example, is made by an Italian mill that had never previously made an Oxford; they came up with an original, ultra-dry finish together. The yellow shirt above was made with a cotton that used purely yellow thread where most others mix in white – as Salvatore wanted a highly saturated effect.

This is not quite the level of involvement of Charvet, for example, but it’s a lot more than most shirtmakers, who just pick from mill’s cloth books or occasionally design their own patterns.

I also like Salvatore’s design aesthetic. Although most of the pieces are not things I would wear, they definitely have an internal consistency. I admire the whole if not the parts.

Note: Salvatore is not to be confused with Camiceria Piccolo, which is a shirting supplier in Naples that also makes bespoke shirts. Although the latter was founded by Sabatino Piccolo, its current owner is called Salvatore Piccolo as well – hence the frequent confusion.

Photos: Luke Carby

As flagged up last week, we are now offering a new edition of the Dartmoor sweater – the long-sleeved polo shirt I designed with John Smedley.

You voted for our second edition to be in the mid-grey shown above, which Smedley describes as silver. I think this is a great choice, as it will be an incredibly versatile piece, equally at home under a navy blazer and a brown-tweed jacket.

As those who ordered the Dartmoor the first time will know, I designed it as the perfect collared knitwear to go with tailoring. The Dartmoor has a relatively high, fashioned collar, which means it sits well with a jacket’s collar and does not collapse beneath it. And it has a turn-back cuff, which makes it dressier than most sweaters with a cut edge.

The Dartmoor is made in Smedley’s slim fit, which was only introduced recently and is a big improvement on their boxy, classic style. For those that know Smedley well, the Dartmoor has the fit of a Tyburn but the style details of a Dorset.

It is made in 30-gauge, extra-fine merino wool. This is a luxurious cloth, but has a smoother finish than cashmere and more substance. It also means that we can sell the Dartmoor for a relatively affordable £145.

As I put it in the post on the first edition: “The Dartmoor is be a modern wardrobe staple. It works well with tailoring, giving a casual edge to any suit, and is great to wear with tailored trousers around the office. For a lawyer, it is perfect for dress-down Friday; for a media-type, it is the piece that sets you above the guys that dress like teenagers. It is the perfect pitch point between formal and casual.”

How to order

The Dartmoor costs £145. Unlike the first edition, orders should be made through the John Smedley site. Simply click here and fill in your details. 

As with the first edition, these are pre-orders that will be taken by Smedley at the end of the order period (February 7) and made at the beautiful old factory in Matlock, England. They will then be delivered to everyone in mid-March. It is this pre-order process that enables us to offer the Dartmoor at a regular price, despite its small volume and non-standard design.

Smedley’s standard 14-day returns policy applies. Delivery costs £5 in the UK, more elsewhere.

The fit is slim. I always used to size down on Smedley knitwear, given its boxy fit, so I bought small previously – but I buy true-to-size in the new slim fit, so medium for the Dartmoor. I am a 38′ chest, 32′ waist and wear a medium in the pictures on the original post.

Remember, visit the Smedley site here to order. I  hope you like it.

Due to a bug, the previous link for Dartmoor orders did not allow for international sales. For those wishing to purchase outside the UK, please see this page of the Smedley international site.

International orders.

Those purchasing in the UK can still order from the existing link here:

UK orders.

I hate bugs. Not so much the creeping crawling type, but the metaphorical, digital kind certainly. 

It appears that until this afternoon orders on the Dartmoor were only possible in the UK and a handful of other countries, due to a bug on the Smedley site. This was partly due to the fact the Dartmoor was on a specially created page that could only be found through our dedicated link. 

This has now been fixed. Customers can find the Dartmoor on their country-specific pages of the Smedley site, simply by searching for ‘Dartmoor’. Alternatively, they can go to any of the pages below:

Japan

China

France

Germany

Denmark

USA

UK

EU

Rest of Europe 

Rest of the world

Please make sure you select the correct country. If you do not, the site may not tell you that the order cannot be submitted until the end of the process. 

If anyone continues to have problems, please contact the Smedley customer service team, or me on simon@simoncrompton.co.uk

Thanks for your patience

Simon

At the end of last year I began a project to create a versatile top coat with Sartoria Vergallo – the Italian tailor based in Varese that I have used twice in the past, for a navy cashmere suit and a silk houndstooth jacket.

The aim of the coat was to create something that could be worn over both tailoring and knitwear, so it needed to be cut quite close over a jacket and be adjustable at the waist. I also wanted it to function with the collar up, ideally buttoning at both the chest and chin.

Gianni, the cutter at Varese, is very adaptable – along with his fitting skill and excellent value, it is among the reasons I turn to him. He suggested a shirt-shoulder, as used on Neapolitan jackets. This would enable the coat to sit over both a jacket’s padding and my sweater-clad shoulders more easily. He also put no padding whatever in the coat’s shoulders themselves, just canvas.

Next, the waist. It is not easy to create an adjustable belt on the back of a coat without having unused buttonholes showing, which is a little ugly. My camel coat I had made at Graham Browne had a lose strip of material that fastened onto buttons, which was both a little simple and left the unused buttons exposed.

Our solution was to have one show button (left, in the image above). Behind that button are two poppers that enable the belt to be moved across. You can achieve the same thing with small, hidden buttons on the back of the belt, but that is harder to adjust when wearing the coat. As you can see, the right-hand side then adjusts as expected, with one buttonhole and two buttons.

This solution has worked very well in the two months I have been wearing the coat. I can even loosen the belt when I get on a bike, for example, and tighten it again when I get off at the other end.

We also included top and bottom pleats as per the Martingale style. The bottom pleat buttons up, and is made entirely with folded material. Many tailors cut the cloth in order to make it easier to construct.

On to the front of the coat. It is a one-button shape, but cut so that the lapels fasten at the chin, using the lapel buttonhole. The problem with such a design is usually that the lapels bow outwards between the two fastenings. Even a three-button coat or jacket, as my Caliendo one is, has this problem.

Of course, if you place another regular button between waist and chin, there would be a buttonhole in the lapel, which is not ideal. (You can see that effect on my Cifonelli tweed.) Gianni’s solution was to place a small button beneath one lapel, and a loop of silk on the other side, with a keeper so it could be tucked flush to the cloth.

As you can see, this functions well in keeping the jacket together. It is also a nice and subtle style detail. However, the silk is a little too flimsy to be used easily and cannot be fastened one-handed. We did try a strip of the overcoat cloth but that was too thick. We’re working on alternatives.

The only other thing I will change at some point is the lapel buttonhole. Gianni’s finisher made a good stab at a Milanese, but I hadn’t considered that it would become distorted when used. A regular buttonhole is better for functionality.

The cloth is original Loden, which is best known for its use in the deeply vented Loden-style overcoats. It is a dense cloth with a short nap that gives a more rigid feel to the coat. As with a heavy worsted, it looks particularly lovely when tailored bespoke, flowing cleanly over the chest and back.

Gianni charges €2000 for such a coat.   

*UPDATE*
I forgot to add that Gianni also suggested a vertical slit for the left in-breast pocket. This has worked extremely well, as it enables me to reach in and get my wallet without unbuttoning the mid-lapel loop… 

Photography: Jack Lawson

Hi Simon, 

Today’s soggy London weather has reminded me of a conundrum I’ve been stuck on for a while: what sort of shoes do you wear on a rainy day if you still want to look smart? 

I don’t want to wear leather-soled shoes, partly to prevent heavy wear and partly so as to retain some semblance of control when navigating wet steps. I’m yet to find any elegant rubber-soled shoes – maybe you know of some good options? And a “wellies outside then change inside” strategy just feels like too much hassle. At the moment I’m making do with lightweight rubber-soled loafers but they’re neither as substantial nor as smart as I’d like. 

Any advice would be much appreciated.

Thanks in advance,

James 

Hi James,

This is a frequent problem for readers – hence the previous posts that you can see linked to at the bottom of this one. But its popularity suggests it is worth fresh consideration.

There is inevitably a trade off with any of the options you list, but it can be minimised.

Rubber-soled shoes are a good option. Not only will the sole not be soaked, but that will prevent water seeping into the upper of the shoe as well. And the biggest problem with leather shoes in this weather is salt stains.

(To minimise salt stains, wipe down your shoes as soon as you get inside, and then use a product such as Saphir Hiver-Winter stain remover to treat the stain afterwards.)

Rubber soles are a lot more elegant than they used to be. Edward Green and JM Weston, among others, are using a new rubber composite that is much thinner and sleeker – as you can see in the picture of the Sandown slip-ons above.

Of course, the thicker the sole the more the upper will be kept away from the wet ground, and a Norwegian or storm welt also stops water seeping into the shoe. But both add to the chunkiness of the shoe.

Cordovan is a good option given its water-resistance, but its thickness means it too makes for a less refined shoe. My shoes for really wet weather are Edward Green Windermeres (above), in burgundy cordovan with storm welts, but they are too heavy for light worsted suits.

I also think suede is underrated. It’s not great to get suede soaking wet, but you do entirely avoid the salt problem of leather, which can ruin a pair of shoes. And if you brush suede when it has dried you get rid of any dirt and bring the nap back up.

Finally, overshoes. I wear Swim’s, and they are very effective. But I agree it’s a bit of a fuss to take them on and off. I generally only use overshoes when I know I will be in the office most of the day – so I will only need them to commute in and back.

In conclusion: consider overshoes if you will not be outside very much; if you will, decide what trade off you want to make between dryness and elegance. And take solace from the fact that chunky shoes are – apparently – very trendy at the moment.