Quantcast
Channel: Permanent Style
Viewing all 918 articles
Browse latest View live

WT Johnsons - finishers, Huddersfield

$
0
0

 

When suiting cloth comes off the looms and is washed, it feels surprisingly rough, like thin cotton khakis. It is the finishing of the cloth that gives it the touch and the handle we expect. It reveals the potential of the cloth, first, and can then create different finishes on top depending on what the customer wants.

The finest finisher of suitings in England is WT Johnsons in Huddersfield, which I visited a couple of weeks ago. Unusually for the players in Yorkshire that I am covering in this series, Johnsons has a very good and informative website. It runs through the finishing process and explains several of its specialist finishes. 


Broadly, though, there is wet finishing and dry finishing. The first involves washing the cloth with a varying amount of solution (the liquor) for a varying amount of time, the length depending on the cloth and the effect desired. Generally, the longer the washing or milling, the softer the cloth will be. The pressure also affects the finish – the heaviest being a ‘blind’ finish, so called because you can no longer see the weave of the cloth.

The liquor creates a slightly nauseating smell – something that doesn’t come across in the images. Tanneries are definitely the worst for smell, but a quick tour leaves you slightly lightheaded by the end. 


The cloth is scoured, again with water, dried and then moved upstairs to the dry finishing. Johnsons is a rather crowded facility – the drying machine curls around the walls and the ceiling in order to fit into the space available.

They’d love to move, but have access to their own supply of water under the building, which is crucial to controlling the process. The water is softer than in the south of England, which is one reason cloth is often woven elsewhere (eg at Fox in Somerset) but brought up here for finishing.

(During the drying, the cloth is held on tenterhooks – little hooks on either side that hold it in place. Hence the phrase. You can see the holes in the sides of the cloth below.)


Next the cloth is decated – rolled with steam, to set the finish – and cropped down to the desired nap. Most cloths use blades, like a big lawnmower. Mohair has to be singed off, running it over a hot plate.

Johnsons also has the only two continuous decating machines in the world. Most finishing machines look very similar. They are as wide as a double-width piece of cloth and 8-10 feet high. Cloth goes in one end and comes out of the other; you can’t see much of what goes on inside.

But the continuous decating machines are different. They are huge, hulking things, reminiscent of industrial steam engines. A big roller in the middle is sunk into the ground, itself bigger than most of the other machines. Again, there’s steam and pressure and you can’t see much of the process. But the things themselves are mighty pieces of engineering. 


Everything after the cropping is an extra finish – mostly involving steam and pressure – that can make a material feel rougher or perhaps distressed. Finishes on top of the cloth, aimed at repelling water or sometimes odour, can also be added.  


Finally, Johnsons is bringing back London Shrunk, an old process that used to be done on all high-end cloth. It is left to sit in a slightly cold and damp room, and shrinks slightly – settling. Some of the merchants that still have the facilities do something similar, often letting their cloth sit in the basement for days or weeks before delivering it.

When I mentioned to Lee and Davide at Gieves & Hawkes last week that I’d been to Johnsons, their first question was whether they still did London Shrunk. They said one of the problems with modern cloth is that it can shrink when the tailors start working with it (both trained as tailors). They can stitch it one day, and when they come in the next day the stitching is all puckered because the cloth has shrunk.

Davide suggested it is because cloth manufacturing is now such an efficient and accelerated process that cloth is never allowed to just sit anymore. When he started at Kashkett’s, the cutters would often strike a jacket, lay it on the pattern and leave it there for a day, to let it settle in the same way.


Other pieces in this series on Huddersfield:

Gieves & Hawkes bespoke

$
0
0


Gieves & Hawkes has always had a good bespoke operation, and surprisingly large on site, but it gets relatively little press. A definite bonus has been Davide Taub, who joined from Maurice Sedwell recently to become co-head cutter alongside Lee Webb.

Davide is an artist, a trained architect and a truly original cutter. (Check out his tulip overcoat.) Lee is more conservative but technically excellent, and both trained as tailors before they were cutters, which gives them a particular view on the tailoring process. Since Davide joined there have been a few obvious changes, such as the removal of the auto-padding machine. It was never used much, but getting rid of it was symbolic. Everything will now be done by hand.

Between them, Davide and Lee have also been developing a new style for their jackets. Not a house style, as this will never be something that is a default setting, let alone thrust upon customers, but a new and individual cut of jacket that should help to give an identity to the Gieves operation.


One of its identifying features is a soft shoulder, using a pre-made pad but cut down by hand to thin out the neck area, giving a subtle kick at the shoulder. Not a pagoda shoulder by any means, but something that suggests breadth in the same way as a Cifonelli roped sleevehead.

The chest is cut close, with room at the front but very little at the side, leading to a long line down the side of the jacket. The canvas is darted a lot to push the chest forward into that shape. “When I started I used to cut all my jackets skin tight,” says Davide. “I’ve changed my mind on that, but I still think it’s very flattering to have it close under the arm, up into that small armhole.”

Lastly, the sleeve is quite narrow but with a rather rounded sleevehead. Sometimes a slim sleeve can create a point in the sleevehead, which makes the piece seem two-dimensional, as if only conceived on paper.


Hopefully the imagery here gets across some of these aspects. Something in me also really likes the mix of brass and horn buttons on the sleeve, but I can see myself changing my mind on that in two months. Perhaps just on a one-button (brass) navy blazer?

There are also positive developments with Gieves ready to wear, finally. Jason Basmajian, ex-Brioni, is the new creative director and ran me through his plans recently. The quality of the suiting will be much higher and there are some nice design aspects already in the Autumn/Winter 2013 collection – such as side tabs on the trousers that sit on the seam rather than the waistband, which I prefer. Look out for nice belted overcoats and shawl-collared waistcoats on the suits as well.

Dugdale Towers

$
0
0


The Dugdale Brothers building in the centre of Huddersfield (scale model, above) is exactly what you’d hope the headquarters of an old cloth merchant would be like. Four and a half floors of old furniture, worn wooden floorboards and the occasional touch of old branding – such as the White Rose, symbol of Yorkshire and name of Dugdale’s first bunches in 1902.


Despite its many floors – including a cold basement, perfect for settling or ‘shrinking’ cloth – the modern company has almost outgrown Dugdale Towers. It holds a larger number of pieces for each swatch of cloth than most other merchants, and has a reputation on Savile Row for never being out of stock as a result. But that requires a lot of space, and they already have an overspill facility up the road.

Here are a few of the highlights.

 Old cloth stamps

Trimmings

First floor storage

1939 White Rose catalogue

And cloth

The filing system

Basement storage

Outdoor signage

Geoff Wheeler, Dugdale's (former Lesser's) agent and Savile Row mainstay

Other pieces in this series on Huddersfield:
- Huddersfield's mills and merchants explained
- WT Johnson's - finishers 

Pictures: Luke Carby

Solito jacket

$
0
0


I’ve finally got round to shooting four jackets that were made in the past year. Over the next week I’ll do a post on each one, and while there is no intention to make direct comparisons – that would be largely pointless, given that they are such different styles – it will be interesting to do them in series.


The first, here, is my first jacket from Solito. I’ve written a little before about Gennaro Solito and his son Luigi, who does the international visits, and there is little to add about the style. It is a classic Neapolitan cut, with shirt shoulder, minimal padding and beautifully drawn patch pockets. The cloth is from Caccioppoli and the jacket is quarter lined inside.

It is worth emphasising the price, though, with suits starting at €2000. That’s a lot less than Rubinacci or Caliendo, and the result both in terms of fit and make is superb. The only thing we had to change at the final fitting was the length of the sleeves, which Solito tends to cut quite short. And I forgot to ask for horn buttons rather than corozo, but we can swap those later as well.

Solito has just starting visiting London with another Permanent Style favourite, shirtmaker Satriano Cinque. They had their first trunk show in London a couple of weeks ago. Solito visited previously, but infrequently, and Satriano had never been before. They have also just confirmed their next dates - May 17 and 18. All arrangements and contact details as on the last post on their visits.

Shoes by Cleverley, trousers by Caliendo, sweater by Johnston's.

Liverano & Liverano jacket

$
0
0



This is a jacket from Liverano & Liverano, Florence. Readers of the Armoury’s excellent Tumblr account will be familiar with various Liverano jackets, but this was my first experience of the Liverano cut.

Although it has many things in common with other north Italian tailoring, such as the construction that sits squarely between Savile Row and Naples, and the former’s traditional shoulder and seams, Liverano is also noticeably different in a few areas.

The jacket tends to be cut rather short, with most of the length coming off the skirt rather than the chest. The sleeve is narrow and the chest cut quite close. The overall result is a jacket that looks quite contemporary, and this is at least one reason it has become popular.



Antonio Liverano also has a wonderful eye for colour, which he will deny with a wide, modest smile, but then throw on a pastel pink scarf with a doughnut pattern that he designed himself.

It was that eye that convinced me to go with this rather strong shade of purple, in a vintage woolen cloth from among his collection. Those that have come along to the Armoury’s trunk shows in London or been to the Liverano shop in Florence will be familiar with Antonio’s homemade swatch books.

The fit was faultless, as you might expect, and the overall look of the finished garment was dressier than I expected. Even at the forward fitting I anticipated a rather casual piece that I would wear with jeans, but the sharp finish and bright horn button make it more akin to a blazer, albeit in a rather unusual tone.

Liverano is expensive, which I can’t account for, but the style in both cut and cloth is unique – and that’s pretty rare among Italian tailors.

Shirt by Turnbull & Asser, tie by Drake's, handkerchief by Anderson & Sheppard

Photography: Luke Carby

Sartoria Vergallo houndstooth blazer

$
0
0


Gianni Cleopazzo of Sartoria Vergallo is one of those tailors that is always interested in new ideas. He was intrigued, therefore, by the bells and whistles I suggested putting on this houndstooth jacket we made last year.

I wanted, primarily, to give it a casual touch, so we put grey suede under the collar and in the overlap of the cuff – to create very subtle changes in texture. The change under the collar will be much more obvious, of course, when it is popped up, and we deliberately cut the foreparts of the jacket so that it buttoned all the way up, with a high third button and then a fourth under the top of the lapel.


Most ready-to-wear jackets use an extended collar or throat latch to achieve this, but that is rarely satisfactory – the collar is often uncomfortably tight and the lapel below it bows open. Far better to make use of the lapel buttonhole and put a button underneath the opposite side to attach it to, cutting the lapels of course so that they join cleanly up the chest.


The cloth is a loosely woven silk that dates back to the 1960s – thanks are due to Richard Wainwright of Choppin & Lodge for selling me that. (Choppin & Lodge now has its own store on Cornhill in London, by the way, which opened a couple of weeks ago. Suits are not being cut by Russell at Graham Browne anymore, but by another cutter offsite and have all the advantages of GB, including the price.)

Shirt, sweater and trousers as on previous posts in this series.


Photography: Luke Carby 

Anderson & Sheppard DB jacket

$
0
0


I have a few Anderson & Sheppard DB suits, but no jackets. I have found that the jacket of my royal-blue flannel suit, however, works well on its own, and that led to this commission last year for a lightweight DB jacket in a brown Loro Piana cashmere.

To work on its own, of course, a jacket must distinguish itself from a regular suit in either pattern or cloth. This does both, with the large Prince of Wales check and spongier finish of cashmere setting it apart from a hard-finished worsted in plain navy or grey.

Anderson & Sheppard DBs work well, I think, because their large and drapey look needs some style injected from somewhere else – whether that be in the cloth or in design details such as the double breast. A friend of mine has a single-breasted A&S suit black mohair with peak lapels, which works for the same reason.

The old phrase is that A&S suits were for me who had their own style, and didn’t need any from their suit; I prefer to add something to them myself.

If you are slim, as I am, the drape-cut DB also creates a particularly complimentary effect in the chest. Both the sweeping lapels of the DB and the extra draped cloth create an impression of bulk, and together the effect is exaggerated.

Last week, in the first of these posts, I said there was little point in a direct comparison between the four jackets. But I’m intrigued nonetheless, as to which is everyone’s favourite. So tell me, which do you like best, and why?

Other jackets:
- Solito, Naples
- Liverano & Liverano, Florence
- Vergallo, Varese


Photography: Luke Carby

John Smedley: the factory

$
0
0


Last week I visited the John Smedley factory in Matlock, and it has quickly become my favourite anywhere. The oldest factory in the world still in production, it is nestled in between Derbyshire hills, with a babbling brook (the Lea) running through the middle of it.

The Lea, of course, powered the original mill wheel and was the reason the factory was located here – down the road from the first such factory in the world, Arkwright’s. There is a canal cut through the countryside, which took the cotton (the mills all started as cotton spinners) out for export, and the railway came here for the same reason. This was the start of the industrial revolution, and it is picturesque.



The factory grew and shrunk over the years. It successfully expanded to cope with government contracts during both the first and second world wars. Stand in the middle of the compound and you are surrounded by buildings from 1783, 1844, 1911 and 1950, all cobbled together with various buttresses, balconies and ironwork.

The inside of the factory is a rabbit warren as a result. Four floors, two of which are underground, with lots of half floors and ramps from one to the other. No matter which direction you go in, you end up and a big, central room that has had a section cordoned off because of an oil spillage. Some joker has drawn a chalk outline of a body in the middle of it.


John Smedley has gone through tough times in recent years, with less investment in design and product until Ian McLean took over in 2010. (He is the eighth generation of the family to run the business – can anyone else match that?) Fortunately that is now changing, with the classic collection expanding into slim fits, cashmere/silk mixes and different collar types. The basics stay the same, so men can buy the same pieces season after season, but there are now more options.  

There is also a sleeveless cardigan coming in for A/W 2013 – which commentators on my recent post on such cardigans will welcome.


I always like to think that I care about quality and fit of menswear, to the exclusion of all else. But you can never escape emotion, inspiration and aspiration. The desire to identify with a brand and be part of it – by being a customer. I felt that at John Smedley.

More on the knitting process and the wonderful archive at a later date.


Photos by Luke Carby

The John Smedley drum

$
0
0


This is the drum of the old John Smedley silver band, which sits in the newly opened Smedley archives and is the focus on my favourite anecdote from the factory’s history.

Smedley was known around the region for its silver band – different to a brass band, at least in the early days, in that it could afford silver-plated instruments as well as lacquered, or brass.

In 1912, Smedley workers went out on strike in support of the nationwide coal miners strike – which began in Derbyshire, not far from the Smedley factory. The silver band played in support of the strikers, and as a result John Smedley (the son of the founder, and now the owner) took away its funding.

When John Smedley demanded the band’s drum back, the drummer threw it up into the rafters of the building, declaring “if he wants it he can bloody well get it himself”.

It remained there, in plain view, for over 100 years – until it was taken down at Easter this year to be included in the archives.

And here's a bit of fun, a letter from 1958 (click to enlarge):



Photography: Luke Carby

The Stoll cotton-collar knitter

$
0
0


Fans of traditional weaving and knitwear brands are funny about old machines. They often equate old machinery with superior techniques, when the new machines usually do at least as good a job – just faster. Usually the reason the brand still has old machinery is that new looms or knitting machines are just expensive, sometimes costing hundreds of thousands of pounds.

Fox flannel is no longer finished by bashing it against a wall, for example – as my visit to WT Johnsons witnessed. Most Bresciani socks no longer have handlinked toes – a machine was invented in 2000 that did the job, with no loss of quality. And while touring John Smedley a couple of weeks ago, it became clear that the old fashioning techniques have no inherent advantage. John, our tour guide, said he still thought the quality was better, but colleagues disagreed.

There are some areas of menswear, however, where the demand is relatively small and therefore modern machinery has yet to penetrate. One of those is knitted cotton garments, hence the advantage of this machine. 

 
It was made by German company Stoll in 1955 for the Smedley factory. No more have been made since. It uses an old-fashioned system of punched wooden slats to input the desired design - similar to the paper cards still used on a lot of other knitting machines, as seen at Brescianiand Corgi(and indeed on mechanical organs).


The machine is used to make the trimmings - collars, cuffs and ribbing - for Smedley’s Sea Island Cotton range. No other machine can make cotton collars. They can’t create the rigidity necessary to support the elongated shape of the old-fashioned Smedley collar, as seen on the Isis and Leander models. Wool trimmings are made on another, more modern machine that works with a different tension. 

As long as Stoll, Shima Seiki and other designers of these machines remain convinced that the market for cotton-collared knitwear is not a lucrative one, this process will remain unique to Smedley. 


And the company can spend its money on £125,000 Shima whole-garment machines instead. 


For anyone tired of Derbyshire-based knitwear, don’t worry - normal service will be resumed on Friday.

The Dege & Skinner Phitwell jacket, and more on The Rake

$
0
0


Regular readers of The Rake will be pleased to know that I am once again contributing regularly to the website, TheRakeOnline.com. Recent articles include a look at Dege & Skinner's trademarked Phitwell jacket, which incorporates lacing in the back lining of the jacket to help keep its pleats in place.

I have also recently been appointed The Rake's Editor-at-Large.

Photograph: Luke Carby

How to wear socks with a suit: Reader question

$
0
0

Colours that go with tan
Dear Simon,

I'm getting stuck putting an outfit together, and what it comes down to is the socks.

I'm wearing a mid-grey worsted wool suit with a sky-blue shirt and regimental tie of burgundy and navy stripes. The hank/pocket square has a white ground with checks of light blue and wine. The shoes are brown.

I feel if I keep to the grey of the pants for the sock choice, it will be too boring but if I wear socks that are burgundy it will look odd with brown shoes. Do I wear sky blue socks? I don't seem to be arriving at a solution that seems to work well.

Thanks in advance,
Joseph

Spot the matching, and the harmonising
Dear Joseph,

That’s a very specific question. Let’s see if I can give you some general principles and work through those to get a specific answer.

First, you’re thinking along the right lines in picking up a colour from above the waist with your choice of sock. Burgundy could work well, and there’s no reason it won’t go with your brown shoes, particularly if they are dark brown rather than tan.

Burgundy is probably the second most-versatile sock colour after dark green (once you’ve ruled out anything that matches the trouser). Burgundy works best with navy, for me, but may still compliment your grey suit.

Second, grey may not be that boring. It sounds like you’ve already got a lot going on up top, and adding burgundy socks may be a step too far. Coco Chanel had a line about looking in the mirror before you leave the house, and taking off one item. In your case, it may mean swapping the burgundy socks for grey.

In fact, I would say that the most common error I find with readers I meet is that they try to hard. Dial down one item and the chances are you will be better dressed.

The other risk with burgundy socks is that the outfit becomes too ‘matchy-matchy’, too obvious and thought-out. Matching a colour in your tie, shirt or handkerchief is a good place to start, but it’s not the only option. Colours should harmonise with each other, not copy each other.

What do I mean by that? Well, think of another tie or handkerchief that would look good with the combination you described. Would dark green work, or burnt orange? Perhaps even a patterned brown (if different enough from the shoes)? The same colours that would be alternatives for the tie or handkerchief will also work for the socks.
The reason it is a good idea to pick up a minor colour from something else you are wearing is that the designer has already picked that as harmonising with the major colours. He has decided that navy and burgundy are in harmony on your tie, and light blue and wine work like ebony and ivory on your hank.

I hope that helps. If you want to put colours together in an outfit, look at how your favourite brands combine specific shades of colours in their ties, handkerchiefs and anything else.

And I’d go with grey socks.

Simon

Too matchy-matchy?
Images: The Armoury and Opumo

A travel innovation: VBC 1663 Bellagio Rolling Bag

$
0
0


I’ve been travelling for the past two weeks, and while I fold my suits very assiduously (inside out, shoulder into shoulder, around a pair of trousers), they clearly suffered over the multiple journeys.

I have no solution for such long periods of travel – other than carrying a separate garment bag – but I do now have one for shorter trips. I recently bought a VBC 1663 Bellagio Rolling Bag.

VBC stands for Vitale Barberis Canonico, who are of course much better known as a weaving company. But a couple of years ago a chance encounter with some local leather workers led to a project to create a range of luggage.


The quality of the construction, as you’d expect from Barberis, is very good. The stress points are all hand-tacked, including the backs of the handles and the ends of the zips. The long zip, that runs the whole length of the rolling section, is finished with a separate leather guard that is itself hand-tacked. The hardware is all individually cast and the inking is thick – although the seam you can see along the middle of it betrays the fact that each side was done separately.

(For more detail on how to assess the quality of a leather bag, see my column in How to Spend It.)


The most interesting thing about this model in the VBC 1663 series, however, is that it is effectively a suit bag rolled up. As you can see from the image at the top of this post, the bag unzips entirely until you are left with a long section sufficient for two suits – plus pockets on either end for shoes. That section has a hanger built in, like regular suit carriers, and a protective cover. But unlike a suit carrier it rolls up rather than folding, making it far more portable.

The idea for the design came from a desire to avoid taking both a bag and a suit carrier on a plane, Galliano Campana of Vitale Barberis told me: “For short trips, say three or four days, I found it was very uncomfortable to bring both bags. Plus some airlines will only let you take one bag onto the plane.”

“The bags are entirely made in Italy, and we added some little Barberis touches. The linen lining that encases the suit is waterproof and stain-resistant, for example,” adds Galliano.


I have used the bag three times so far and the suits have done very well for being rolled up. There were a few creases when the main compartment of the bag was completely filled, but still fewer than I get with folding them into a hard case. The only disadvantage of the system is that that main compartment has no internal pockets, and of course you have to unpack everything before you can take the suits out.

VBC bags are distributed in the US by cloth merchant Gladson, and are sold by various places online (usually around $1900). They are also sold by Sartoria Vergallo.



Top image: Luke Carby

Column on We Are The Market

Permanent Style cufflinks in gold

$
0
0


Regular readers will be familiar with my Cufflink Project, which I launched last year with bespoke jeweller Diana Maynard.

I was frustrated at the lack of good cufflinks on the market – those with the same decoration on both sides, an easy method of inserting the link, a bar or chain that was short enough, and a subtle but sophisticated style.

The resulting cufflinks were wonderfully received, with dozens being sold through myself on Permanent Style and Kirby Allison’s The Hanger Project. I was grateful for the response and it has led to several collaborations since, including the recent slippers with La Portegna and a few more that will be coming soon.


I tend not to wear silver jewellery, as my wedding band and all my watches are gold. I have therefore had my cufflinks gold-plated – as you can see from the images here. It makes little difference with the pearl links, as the gold bar is largely hidden in the cuff. But the effect is striking on the smoky quartz, and it works well on the labradorite as well.

If anyone is in the same position as me and would like some gold versions from the Cufflink Project, they can be purchased by contacting me or Kirby at The Hanger Project.

Prices are:
  • Pearl links (grey, white and peacock) 9ct gold plated - £260
  • Cabochon links in either labradorite or (new) quartz - £356
  • Set of four pearl dress studs - £457   


Ciao Luca and Luigi

$
0
0


Luca from Satriano Cinque and Luigi Solito (left and right) were in town last week for fittings with a growing number of London clients. It's been nice to see that grow in just a few months.

I also find I particularly enjoy with craftsmen around the same age as me - Luca, Luigi and I are all in our thirties, with young kids, and it's much easier to build up a rapport when you have such things in common.

Below, one of a number of images Luigi had on his phone of Italian suit designs from the 1950s. Apologies for the iPhone photos.


How to buy a leather bag on a budget

$
0
0


Hi Simon,


I've been following Permanent Style for a while now, as well as investing significantly more of my time trying to learn more about menswear.

As my style has evolved and I find myself wearing a blazer or sportcoat more often, I'm really struggling with bags. As a postgraduate student, I lug around a laptop and lunch everyday, and apart from looking bad, I really worry about the backpack pulling on the shoulders of my jackets and damaging them.

I wondered if you had any recommendations for leather briefcases? Searching around your site I have spotted a few I like the look of, however, I think that £800+ is more than I want to spend on a bag at the moment. I'm looking to spend up to about £500 and I wondered if there were any go-to brands for this slightly lower price bracket?

On a somewhat related note - what kind of frame of mind do you approach buying clothes and accessories with? As I get a bit older (I'm 22) I find it increasingly unsatisfying and untrue to say "I can't afford things", but find it equally frustrating to admit that I'm just not prepared to pay enough to buy a Dunhill bag or a Brioni blazer! I just wondered if you could share any thoughts or wisdom about this problem, silly as it is.

Thanks for your time, and all the best.

David Beckingsale

 

Hi David,

Men generally don’t spend enough on bags, in the same way as they rarely spend enough on shoes. Both can make an outfit on their own; both look better with age; both repay investment over a long period of time; and you only need a small number of them – probably just two bags in your lifetime: a day bag and a weekender.

That said, £500 is still a lot of money and a good amount to spend on a bag. Most of the bags I talk about are real luxury items, from Hermès, Bown or Tanner Krolle. The thing that sets them apart is the hand-sewing of all the seams. Like the sole on a bespoke shoe, this will make them last longer. But you pay a disproportionate amount for that work.

So the first way to save money is to buy machine-sewn bags. Dunhill, for example, has its Tradition line, which is hand-sewn in London. But it also has a much cheaper line which is not. The Single Zip Bourdon briefcase is beautiful and only a little more than you were planning to spend at £595.

The other way to save money is to introduce a material other than leather. Dunhill’s Saltaire range, for example, is mostly canvas with leather trims. I’m a big fan of J Panther Luggage – their Ruc Tote is very versatile. And Bill Amberg makes some great machine-sewn bags: there is a version of the Jag in leather and cordura, or one at £495 that mixes in perforated leather.

To your last point, what you can afford all depends on what period of time you apply. I tend to save up for a big purchase for 2-5 months, pay for half of it with that money, and use a credit card for the rest (which I will pay off over another 2-5 months). In a consumer culture like ours, the hard thing is often not saving money to buy something, but going for years after that without any retail hit. Master that, and you’re halfway there.

Simon



Cufflink making with Bill Skinner

$
0
0


One craft I’ve never covered before on the blog is cufflink-making – design, yes, but not making.

The photographs here are of Bill Skinner, who makes links for Duchamp and others from his workshop in Otford, Kent. This is not bespoke jewellery to compare to Diana Maynard – who makes the Permanent Style links – but there is a lot of care required nonetheless, particularly in the finishing.


The tin alloy they are made of is heated up to 320 degrees centigrade, before being poured into the moulds that Bill has created. Those moulds are spun at about 600 rpm to ensure the metal gets into every part of the mould. The casts are then taken out, separated from the central spider of alloy and filed down.



That careful filing, finishing and setting of the various stones takes the greatest time and concentration.



Thanks to Jonathan Daniel Pryce for the photography.


New York, Chicago, Dallas and Austin

$
0
0


The past 10 days have been a whistlestop tour of four US cities. Not all on menswear business, unfortunately - but look forward to a series of posts on American tailors, shoemakers and shops.

Chris Despos, bespoke in Chicago and Dallas

$
0
0


While in Dallas recently I managed to catch up with Chris Despos, which was fortunate – Chris operates in both Chicago and Dallas, with workshops in both but a shop front in Chicago.

Chris is a bespoke tailor, but with a background that is more varied than most European, or European-trained, tailors. His was not a regular apprenticeship, working through an establishment and then setting up on his own; his story is more personal, more complex. I’ll tell it here and then, later in the week, discuss him and his work.


The Despos name is from Macedonia. Chris’s father came to America in 1929, at the age of 21. He had spent the past 10 years training as a tailor, and was joining his father in Chicago – who was a supervisor at a steel company. On his first day in Chicago, Chris’s father was given some money to go and buy some clothes.

“He went into a department store, owned by this Russian, and began looking at all the suits in the way a tailor would – looking under the collar, seeing how the lining was attached,” says Chris. “The owner noticed him, asking what he was doing, and that same day offered him a job. It was 1929, the Great Depression, and he got a job on his first day.”

The family moved to Indiana. There, Chris had two starts in tailoring – one false, one real.

The false start was during High School. Chris was not the best of students, and the easiest way to miss class was to do some sort of vocational class on the side. So he started working for his father in the afternoons: “I’ve always liked working with my hands, and I enjoyed it, but the motivation was wrong,” he says.

There was a hippie phase, in Colorado. He worked construction, and tried to find tailoring work during the winter when snow stopped the building work. “The tailor would ask me, what can you do? I’d say I could do any alteration on trousers, and alter the sleeves of jackets. He said, anyone can do that. We need people that can do the shoulders, the collar, the essence of the jacket.”

This was the first point at which Chris would realise how much he didn’t know.


Back to Indiana, for his real start in tailoring. This time the work consumed him; he became obsessed. But most of his father’s work was made-to-measure (for a RTW brand called Society Brand) not bespoke. He made suits at the weekend, for friends, but that was it. (“This was during the Second World War, when there was a wool shortage. When people heard my father had some wool in, they would just show up at our door,” Chris recalls).


So, to New York to talk to Louis Scalise – the first American designer to have his name on the clothing label along with the brand. Scalise put Chris to work in one of his two tailoring shops in New York, under Austrian tailor Frederick Blum. Blum was then 69 (this was 1974) and had opened and run two tailoring schools in Europe. Prior to coming to New York he worked under Angelo Litrico in Rome. (Litrico famously made suits for both JFK and Khrushchev during the Cold War. Each had a separate mannequin in the back of the shop.)

Blum was a tailor but specialised in pattern making. As well as menswear he work with women's wear and furs. He even helped a toy company by making patterns for stuffed animals. But Chris was getting closer: he was making entire suits himself, and he was learning to make patterns.

When he went back to Indiana two years later, he realised again how much he had to learn. To do bespoke himself, he needed more training. 


Chris had heard of a tailor working at Neiman Marcus in Dallas. This was Franco, who had been brought over by the store from Caraceni to do their fittings. After some temporary work with him, Chris told Franco he was going to move to Dallas and do it full time. He packed all his things in the car, made camp at his cousin’s house in Dallas, and turned up at 8am on Monday morning.

“Franco opened the door and said ‘oh, you were serious!’ He didn’t believe I was going to do it,” remembers Chris. “He told me to wait outside, and the next thing I knew one of the other tailors was walking out with a box full of his stuff – he had fired him to make way for me!”

Chris was there for three years, and that was where he learnt to be a bespoke tailor. That was the PhD (as he puts it). When he started on his own, things went very quickly. Chris made a pair of trousers for a girlfriend’s father; the father recommended him to a friend, who bought 12 pairs of trousers, 12 shirts and two jackets; the following week, another friend bought three suits.

“It started fast, but I didn’t let it grow too big,” Chris says. “That first five years on my own I made almost everything myself – a lady from Franco’s did some finishing, and I hired a trouser maker after a year, but that was it.” He now has a team in both Dallas and Chicago, but he cuts everything himself and still does much of the making.

Chris’s story is a long one that has been told, in parts. But I think it deserves retelling. Compared to Savile Row apprenticeships it is wonderfully circuitous, varied and studded with characters from every walk of life.   

Viewing all 918 articles
Browse latest View live