To Save or Splurge?

Chapter 73

Last week's installment ended on a bit of a downer, tone-wise, with the sombre warning that the totality of our modern, advanced way of life will come crashing down about our ears if the delicate infrastructure of electronics and communication is disrupted -- and something as simple as an EMP will disrupt it quite thoroughly.

Let's continue in that dark vein this week, and we'll do so by looking at the economies of dressing well, and in the process cast a sideways glance at complete global economic collapse -- an utter financial meltdown.

It's not a foregone conclusion, but unless something is done very shortly, money in general will be tight for everyone, no matter where you live. America is borrowing and spending itself to bankruptcy, then through it, and far beyond, with deficits in the trillions, and no end in sight. The Euro is faring no better: the financial experiment that is the European Union is rapidly devolving into a shell-game between national banks.

A word is beginning to be bandied about more and more, and that word is austerity. It sounds drastic; so drastic that France took the "damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead" stance recently of ignoring the problem's existence entirely. The more socialist one's country leans, the more difficult it is for one to fathom decreasing one's reliance on the government; but decrease one must, if a debt problem is to be resolved.

The solution to over-spending is very simply to spend less; this works remarkably well with individuals, families, nations, or planets. Simple self-restraint, self-control, and budgeting -- in other words, living within your means -- is called for. Much of this can be achieved on a national level through one's individual actions. To continue the theme of last week: be content with your lot in life. Your most valuable commodity is time. Live with a conscious attention to the amount of free time that modern technology affords you, and take renewed possession of that leisure time and enjoy it to the full.

You may need to take a step back and evaluate if your financial reach exceeds your grasp. Far too many men are living lives pursuing huge bankrolls while simultaneously racking up huge debts. Are you one of those men who equate contentment with acquisition of stuff? Perhaps you should dial back on the "bigger and better" and the rat race, and simply pay off your existing debts. You may find life more comfortable with less stuff, plenty of leisure time, and completely in the financial black.

Voluntary austerity isn't as drastic as it sounds in our Futurific twenty-first century. In a remarkable study, it has been shown that as far as amenities and quality of life are concerned, the typical "poor" household in America is living the middle-class standard of 10 to 15 years prior. In other words, the middle-class luxuries of 1970 became de rigeur for those living at the poverty line in 1980. This means the "poor" of 2012 are equal to the "middle class" of 2002. The "poor" of 2002 are equal to the "middle class" of 1992, and so on.

The argument becomes largely academic when you realize the poorest Americans today live like kings compared to men of a mere century ago, with access to unimaginable luxuries like refrigeration, air conditioning, cable televisions, automobiles, and cell phones. For that matter, most Americans "in poverty" live in larger houses with more amenities than most Europeans. And they live in regal ease when compared to today's average in underdeveloped third world countries.

Humans have lived remarkably hard lives for millennia. The past hundred years have made men soft. Understanding that is the first step to appreciating what you have and making the most of it. If governmental decisions or terrorist activity take that soft living away from you, it will be a less jarring step in re-adjusting to your new life, without drastically changing your quality of life where it counts.

Applying this to what you wear isn't a great step of logic, but it does bear mentioning. It is possible, nay, imperative, necessary, and needful, to be properly dressed no matter your financial standing. A Captain of Industry may be laid low by a financial collapse and subsequent hyperinflation; a factory worker will have nothing to do without electrical infrastructure; a disabled vet will be left with his savings when the government can no longer write a check. There need not be any difference between the attire of these three examples, amongst themselves, or on either side of their fortunes; nor need the world plunge into Mad Max-style skins and rags.

The prevalent byline on the Blogosphere of Men's Fashion is usually something along the lines of "Buy the very best that you can afford." This is, I think, overly simplistic. Not the least of the errors is equating price with quality. The larger question is what defines "affordability?" Most men think this means 'take as much money as you can part with and buy as few things as possible.' Not so -- not so at all!

Let's look at when to save and when to splurge on your clothing, and how.

Surprisingly to some, I do not recommend buying bespoke as a rule. The level of art and exactitude and quality in a bespoke suit is unmatched. A bespoke suit is something akin to a lifetime commitment, a big-ticket purchase to be passed down to your heirs. Do you really want to wear the same suit for forty years? Will your body shape even remain constant that long? Do you want to be known as "That guy with that suit?" It may be more cost-conscious to rotate through more suits more often, purchasing and moving on, and retaining a tailor to alter your suits as necessary. We've discussed taking your own measurements,  going on quick-strike hunts at secondhand shops, and focusing on classic fit and style in previous installments, also covered in the Book.

Purchase used, hardy, provenanced articles, fine-tune the fit yourself or with a tailor's assistance, and rotate your suits out every couple of years, and you will have a personalized, elegant, classic, and continually updated look without appearing nouveau riche or "trying too hard." The same goes for ties, coats, trousers, sweaters, and shirts. Buy what fits, on the cheap, and rotate it out periodically.

The exception to the rule, the one time that bespoke is practically required, is formal wear. A dress suit is not the time to skimp; it is an long-term investment and splurge-worthy. Don't even think about wearing white-tie-and-tails without having it made for you. The cost will be breathtaking, but if you are invited to a white-tie event you will be able to afford it. Ditto the boiled-front shirt, detachable collar, shirt studs, cuff links, pumps, et cetera. Think of a dress suit as the masculine monetary equivalent to the wedding dress -- the difference being, if a woman is lucky she will wear a wedding dress only once; if a man is very lucky he will wear tails more than once.

Dinner suits should be bespoke as well, but as the cut is much more forgiving, bespoke is within the financial reach of the average man -- and the opportunity to wear it is much greater than for a dress suit. At the very least, in a pinch, a good tailor should be able to take a "bespoke-but-not-for-you" dinner jacket and alter it accordingly. The pique shirt and accessories are not a place to skimp, either. This really is an example of a suit you will buy once and use throughout your life, so you'd better make it count.

On the issue of undergarments, save; don't splurge. Hand-woven silk tee shirts and elaborate Italian socks may seem luxurious, but anything directly against your skin should be treated as disposable. It will wear out just as quickly as the cheap stuff from the box stores. If you pay a premium for fancy briefs, you will be temped to hold onto them until they are past their prime. Don't wait until your tee shirts turn grey, your elastic loses its snap, and the heels wear through your socks! Rotate them out for new items before these things happen, and you will feel better with fresher underthings more often.

Shoes, on the other hand, are an area in which to splurge. New shoes that fit and conform properly to your feet, are not only supportive and comfortable, they are better for your back and your posture. You should have several pairs in rotation, for shoes need to rest after being worn, and they should be treated to proper shines regularly. With care, shoes are an investment that will last for decades. The old saying is true: you're on your feet all day, so you need to treat them well.

Hats walk the fence between the realm of "splurge" and "save." Most new hats for everyday use are either too expensive to wear with insouciant abandon, or too cheap and shoddy to be any good. A good, lightly-worn vintage hat can be as well-built and serviceable as new, but yet not so dear that it will ruin your day if it blows off into the mud. A hat with some years on it can be re-steamed and bashed to your preference, will fit with a comfortable and broken-in "set," and can take a day's worth of constant doffing and donning. If you are a true hatophile, splurge on "Sunday hats," a black Homburg to wear with your formals, or a specialty new or refurbished hat for special occasions.

Enough of the doom and gloom! Next week we will eliminate the negative, accentuate the positive, and get back to the business of dressing well, despite the ridiculousness that happens around us. Stay tuned!

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Shoe-in

Chapter 14

For the past few weeks, we have concerned ourselves with the formal side of life, what with proms, weddings, Easter, and so forth...the impression given to the uninformed masses might be that the well-dressed man should always be attired in some form of tuxedo! This explains why the Average Guy jumps into a black rental suit whenever the formality of an event exceeds his capacity to wear a tee-shirt to it.

In actuality, dressing like a grownup necessitates dressing well for all sorts of events, most of which aren't formal at all, some that are downright casual, and some of which don't even involve leaving the house!

To illustrate this, let's take a break from the pomp and grandiosity of recent events. Set the WABAC Machine to the middle of the last century, and let's take a peek inside the closet of a well-heeled gent to get a look at his shoes, (courtesy of an illustration from an Esquire of the time.) His selections are, of course, tremendous overkill for most men of today -- but some of these styles can surely serve as a spark of inspiration for you, to include in your own closet's shoe rack.

Starting at the top left of the rack, we'll work our way across and down. Follow along with me as we poke our nose in where it doesn't belong! Don't make too much noise, or our host's valet will find us snooping about in his chambers, and kick us out of the house before we've had our tea.

At the upper left, we find a pair of patent leather opera pumps. (Even in a closet, we can't seem to escape formality! Its position of prominence in his rack shows that he probably gets a lot of use out of 'em.)

Yes, this is actually a man's shoe! Impossibly dainty and fey to our modern eyes, this 18th-century French style is actually the "most formal of the most formal" shoe in existence. Most correctly worn with white tie and tails, it can also be worn with black tie semi-formals. The bow must be dull black grosgrain. If you really have a driving need to possess these, they are still being made, but they are not easy to find, nor are they inexpensive.

Next to these, we find an unusual pair of brown calfskin monk strap bluchers. It's a good middle-choice for most situations, neither too formal nor too casual, and can be worn as an everyday shoe for a bit of flair either in town or country.

On the second shelf, our host has a pair of brown suede full-brogue captoe balmorals. These are great country-casual shoes, worn to spectator sports or at sporty events. In light tan, ivory, or white, it would be a smashing summer resort shoe. Worn in town with a suit, it looks informal and comfortable -- in other words, don't wear this to the office.

Next to them, a popular style today, a Norwegian-style blucher in brown calfskin. Notice what makes the shoe a Norwegian:  the tongue and upper are in one piece, stitched to the sides in a curve over the toe, and the two sides are stitched together with a vertical seam in front and back. These are considered even more sporty and casual than regular bluchers, even in black. They can pick up a rakishly casual style by having them made as spectators, by substituting the upper in a contrasting color, in suede, or in cloth.

On the third row, we find the workaday town shoe, the old standard, the black calfskin captoe balmoral. Most often worn with dark suits and businesswear,  it's the quintessential town shoe. Notice that this pair is not brogued, which makes it a touch more formal than it would be otherwise. This is more than likely a reflection of this particular gent's many casual shoe options.

Next over, he owns a pair of brown wing-tipped fringe-tongue brogues. The nubbly soles tell us this gent is a golfer -- but even without the cleats, these shoes are nice, but too rustic and casual for any other use but country sports, perhaps a picnic in the park, or lounging around the house.

Moving down to the fourth shelf, we discover a brown pair of quarter-brogued captoe balmorals. This middle-range shoe is an all-purpose town-and-country compromise between his black balmorals and his brown suede balmorals, in the upper two rows. As a result, this is a shoe that most men would wear quite a lot, in a wide variety of situations: the traditionally-styled equivalent of the monk-strap shoes on the top row.

Next to them, we find a grand old pair of button-top balmorals. They are the daytime formal equivalent of the opera pumps on the top row -- the most formal thing you can wear with a morning suit or to a wedding. (This gent must get a lot of use out of his morning suit; otherwise he'd just wear his captoe balmorals on the third row.) Black with boxcloth uppers in fawn color. Often the uppers matched the waistcoat of the morning suit, so I'd be willing to bet this fellow's morning vest matches the shoes.)

On the bottom row, we find a pair of patent-leather wholecut balmorals with flat silk laces. Its lack of brogueing and stitching, as well as its patent-gloss, makes it more formal than any of his other balmorals -- in fact, it is his second-finest pair of shoes, just behind the opera pumps. What his black captoes are to his button-tops for day formals, is what these shoes are relative to his pumps for evening dress: a little less grand, but still a perfectly fine option. (He probably reserves these for black tie, and uses the pumps for white tie, which would be most proper.)

The last pair on the rack may seem humble: a pair of buckskin house slippers. Soft and cozy, the usefulness of a nice pair of shoes to kick back in should not be underestimated. They may become your favorite pair, and will get plenty of use. Just never wear them out of the house.

On the floor, next to the rack, we find another pair of Norwegian-style slippers, the peasant shoe. Yes, this is the well-known penny loafer. Many wear them with suits, but you'd be better off using them with respect to their humble origins: for lounge wear, around the house, or at a summer resort. Penny optional.

The last pair of "shoes" are actually field boots, and if you don't have access to a horse, you'd look a little silly wearing these. Our gent apparently spends a bit of time at the paddock, and riding the countryside. These would be best replaced with driving moccasins, if you enjoy recreational country outings.

You don't have the bankroll for a closet full of shoes, you say? Give it time. With a bit of clever searching, you can build up quite a nice usable collection over several years. You don't have to start out quite this grand -- You can distill our wealthy patron's closet down to the basics, and still be well-shod in most situations. Begin with a brown brogued balmoral for general use, a plain black balmoral for more formal purposes, and a pair of casual loafers. From there, you can build more specialty shoes as the bank account allows.

Shh--do you hear someone in the corridor? It may be our host, looking for us. Close the closet door, quietly now! we shall wait for him to pass by, and rejoin him downstairs. With luck, he'll never suspect we were here.

See you next week!

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The Game's A Foot

Chapter 9

Last week's April Foolery was a right bit of fun (you did realize it was a joke, and didn't go out and buy a closet full of top hats...right?), but put your Serious Hat on now, because this week's topic is fraught with significance -- Shoes.

It's a simple enough concept: a protective layer twixt your feet and the rocks beneath, a simple necessity of life. Unfortunately, that is the extent of many men's knowledge of shoes -- but grown-up dressing demands thinking beyond merely being shod with ones between plates and tuppence.*

*Rhyming slang: ones and twos (shoes) between plates of meat (feet) and tuppence a pound (ground).

The thousands of shoe styles and variations can be overwhelming for us guys, which is why your "default setting" is most likely that with which you are most familiar. In other words, what you grew up wearing. And that, unfortunately, is kiddy sportswear.  The typical "shoe store" offers nothing but a proliferation of Nike, Adidas, Reebok, Sketchers, ad nauseum, in hundreds of variations, and at a price point for every wallet. Aisle upon aisle, rack after rack, all the same stuff. The Helpful Salesman, if he acknowledges you at all, will mumble, "Wot size erya?" before trundling off to The Back, to return eventually with boxes of more stuff, hopefully in a size that a Chinese craftsman half a world away reckons would fit you. So you lay down your dollars, and you leave the store with a white canvas-and-rubber abomination adorned with a filigreed fretwork of appliqué swooshes, stripes, and mesh perched on a snow-tire tread that conceals snake-oil frippery like air bladders, aerogels, springs, and valves. And you wear it everywhere, until the dingy grey mess disintegrates into ribbons. And then you go back a few months later to buy another.

Well ... stop doing that.

I want to introduce you to the world of adult male footwear. This is just the barest introduction, mind you: there are other dedicated sites that cover the intricacies of construction and stylistic detail of felicitous footytogs, and if you are interested in such things, you can graduate into that. For now, for here, I'm giving you what you need to get by and get started.

All shoes serve the same function, viz., keeping pebbles out from between your toes. So why all the fuss? For the same reason I've been railing on and on about proper clothing and Classic Style and the hideousness of tee-shirts since the beginning: just covering yourself isn't good enough. There's a rich history of style waiting to be tapped, and for some reason even some of the best dressed gents forget about their feet.

Remember the Great Secret I revealed in Chapter Two? The purpose of clothes is to make you look better than you really do. That doesn't stop at your ankles. A good shoe is a work of art. The old maxim is true -- women really do judge you on your footwear. And nobody wants to see your ugly knarly hairy toes in public.

At the risk of being simplistic, there are a few technical terms of historical significance to use when describing a shoe. At one time, which shoe, in what style, in what color, at what time of day, for what purpose, was of utmost importance to know, to avoid embarrassing social gaffes. Those rules have slackened today: if you are interested in absolute historical correctness, the rules are still out there -- but for most of us, a few basic guidelines will suffice.

I will pare the field down to two basic styles and some of their variations for you. Learn these two basic types of shoe, and much of your battle is already fought. These two shoes are the balmoral and the blucher. The basic difference between a balmoral (British "oxford") and a blucher (British "derby") all boils down to a detail in the manner of the lacing, that you may have never noticed.



A balmoral, from Alden

On a balmoral, the vamp of the shoe (the piece that covers the instep) is laid over top of, and sewn to, the bottom of the lacing eyelet tabs. The lacing is in a V-shape at the bottom, the tongue is sewn on separately, and when the shoe is tied, the tongue is completely concealed. This is called "closed lacing."



A blucher, also from Alden



With a blucher, on the other hand, the vamp and tongue is one piece, and the eyelet tabs are laid on top and sewn on the edges, but is unattached to the tongue at the bottom. It is easier to adjust the fit with a blucher, as the side flaps can be loosened or tightened across the tongue, and is called "open lacing." Of the two, the balmoral is considered the more formal, and needs to be more carefully fitted so it laces tightly without the eyelet flaps gapping.



Alden's monk strap

A blucher that has buckles instead of laces is called a monk strap shoe, 


A wholecut, from Allen-Edmonds



and a balmoral that is made of one unbroken piece of leather is called wholecut.

The following details can be applied to either blucher or balmoral: the cap toe, which is an extra piece of leather sewn to the vamp over the toe box, as seen in the above examples, and the wingtip, which is an extended cap toe that extends down the side of the shoe, and is shaped like a W over the vamp.

An Allen-Edmonds spectator wingtip

A spectator (British "correspondent") is any shoe utilizing two different colors of leather, usually (but not always) a wingtip.



Saddle shoe, from Allen-Edmonds



A saddle shoe is closed-laced like a balmoral, but the eyelet tabs are sewn down over the vamp.

We need to make special mention here of brogueing: the decorative holes and designs on some shoes. They were originally of Scottish design, and were functional; allowing water to drain out when slogging across glens and bogs. Because of this, brogueing is traditionally considered less formal and more country-sporty, but today is pretty much acceptable anywhere. Full brogue has holes down the sides and over the toes in a decorative pattern, like this spectator shown above.

Half-brogueing on a cap toe
blucher, from Alden.

Half-brogue has brogueing in a decorative pattern over the toe only...



Quarter-brogue cap toe
balmoral. Alden again.



and quarter-brogue just has one line of holes at the edge of a captoe.

By and large, the simpler, darker, and shinier the shoe, the more formal it is. A patent-leather black balmoral is more formal than a tan suede one, for instance, but that same tan suede balmoral is less formal than a dark brown blucher. Like I said before, the rules are just guidelines.

Shoes should be made of leather. Calf, buck, pig, horse, all have differing characteristics and appearances. What those are, is unimportant for now. What is important, is that it needs to be real animal skin. The strength and resilience of synthetics is just inferior to the real stuff. Soles should be made of leather as well.

Finally, you need to have your shoes fitted properly, and that means finding a competent shoe store with competent salesmen.



The Brannock Device.

You've probably seen a Brannock Device, which was invented in 1927, and has become the world standard for foot-sizing. You can use the Device as a test for a good shoe salesman, who (if he passes muster!) you can feel confident will find a good shoe for you, and is not merely interested in you as his next sale. The trick is to ask to be sized. If the salesman sets your foot in the Device whilst you are seated, just walk away: he doesn't know what he's doing. When a sizing is done well, you are asked to stand: your heel is firmly placed against the stop and your toes are pressed flat. Width is carefully taken, and careful note is also made of the location of the ball of the foot, and height of the arch and instep.

A good salesman will not just look, but feel the shape of your foot. When you try on a shoe, a good salesman will double-check the position of not just the toe, but the position of your arch, ball, and instep inside the shoe as well: which involves more feeling around and manipulation. This may seem strange and fussy to your formerly Croc-shod feet, but real shoes fit closely and well. A new shoe may feel tight to you in areas, but the leather will in short order conform itself to your foot and become more comfortable than any old tennis shoe could ever be. A good salesman will be able to determine if the shoe is fitting and supporting you properly. There are many very good shoe makers out there. I personally favor Alden and Allen-Edmonds, (you can probably tell!) as they are both of fine quality, as well as being American-made.

You may notice this whole "fitting" thing would make shopping for shoes online a tricky proposition...and you'd be right. Online options are good sources for bargains in used shoes that, if new, would be quite pricey. Factoring in that used shoes can usually be recrafted and rebuilt to like-new condition for much less than actual new shoes, and it seems like an irresistible prospect. But fitting sight-unseen is a hit-or-miss affair: no two feet are alike, and even a used shoe in your size may have been inhabited by a foot with a much different shape than yours. Since the leather has been molded to a different foot, it may never truly feel like "your" shoe.

Fortunately, there is a way to narrow the field by a great deal, and increase the chances that an online used shoe will fit nearly as well as a new one. This is because of lasts. A last is the wooden form that a shoe is constructed around, and shoemakers use a number of different lasts. Before you shop around online, you should be properly fitted once: the shoe salesman will find a style of shoe that fits you more perfectly than the rest, because of the last it was built on. Ask him the number of the last of that shoe, and what other models are made on that last. All of the styles of shoes that company makes, in your size, on that last, will fit you equally well, in theory.

So, if you troll the online sites for those specific types of shoes in your size, the odds are the previous owner would have had a foot similar enough to yours that the fit will be extremely close, and (--bonus!--) already broken-in. So go forth, get properly fitted at a few places that know their stuff, and see what exists in the basic styles you've learned about today. Its the first step to better footwear, and the sooner you get started on the journey, the farther you can go. See you next week!

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Spring Break Experimentation!

Chapter 7

It's a dangerous trend when a firm and distinct distinction is not made between childhood clothes and grown-up clothes. When men don't know how to dress like men, they tend to not act appreciably different than children. This juvenilification is especially noticeable in the formative college years, but men of all ages can take something away from this week's installment.

Spring Break! -- That yearly 7th-inning-stretch taken by college students. Millions upon millions of young people, newly freed from parental control, woefully unprepared to deal with the action/consequence paradigm, spend several days running afoul in a beery haze, and making generally poor decisions in unfamiliar places.

So what does Spring Break have to do with dressing well? Instead of giving a straight answer, (which you know I'm loathe to do!) here's a mental experiment: send two identical university students on their spring break. They will travel to the same destination, stay in the same hotel, attend the same parties, ingest the same number of beverages, perform the same pranks, schmooze with the same sorts of ladies. One is dressed as per "The Standard," tee-shirt, cargo shorts and flippy-flops. The other is dressed in a more classically elegant and proper fashion.

At the end of the week, let us quantify which man had the "better time," assessing a number of criteria. Who appeared more self-possessed and confident? Who comported himself with more grace and dignity? Who was more likely to be admitted to private soireés? Who attracted more favorable attention from the girls?  Who was more likely to be believed by the constabulary in case of an unfortunate infraction? In short -- the man who was dressed like a grown-up.

Even with all other behaviors being equal, dressing with more finesse will result in the appearance of greater decency, and will set you apart from your peers -- even when the extent of your objective is just more and better spring break action. Hopefully, though, your goal is less nefarious.

Dressing well on holiday is not beyond the scope of even the most cash-strapped underclassman. It takes no more effort to dress well, than it does to dress badly. It does involves planning for different situations: an outfit suitable for the boardwalk at noon is distinct from an outfit for casual dinner in the evening. It doesn't take much of a stretch to make the transitions, though. Here are some tips for casual vacation wear to help you on your way, whether you are a student or a retiree.

First, let me make it perfectly plain that this is vacation wear. You wear this when you are somewhere else, and it is obvious your sole objective is holiday enjoyment. You don't wear this in town, to the store, or as everyday wear. This is not everyday summer wear. Resort-style situations only. Am I clear? Good.

Sneakers are still not appropriate, unless you are playing tennis or a three-on-three pickup game of hoop. Nor are flip-flops -- EVER. There are too many other very nice options: boat shoes, suede bucks, spectators, saddles, and loafers of all descriptions are great alternatives to the same ol' same ol'.

Ditch the cargo shorts in favor of shorts of the Bermuda style, with clean lines and a proper waist. It's a subtle difference that looks much nicer. Similarly, delete the jeans in favor of light-colored and lightweight trousers. Khaki is the standby, but white or light colors add an essence of elegance.

Tee-shirts: no. Substitute collared shirts. Loose, short sleeve prints or fitted golf shirts, or anything in between. Use your ingenuity -- as long as it has buttons and a collar.

Socks; either none, or white low-rise ankle socks with shorts. Stick to light colors or patterns with trousers, with Classic Style rules -- high enough to show no leg-skin when worn.  

No baseball caps allowed. Vacation is a perfect time for light straw hats with a moderate brim, Panama style. No sombreros, hombre.

No fanny-packs, man-bags, or other silliness. You're on vacation, so leave your luggage in your room. Carry the basics and no more: it's so much more elegant that way.

Wear a jacket. WHAT?! Yeah, that's right, a jacket. Not all the time, obviously, but the use of a jacket can really take your resort attire to the next level of excellence, either paired with slacks or the "Bermuda suit" of jacket and shorts. Wearing a traditional jacket of light fabric, unlined or just lightly structured, is no warmer than a windbreaker or flannel shirt, breathes easier, keeps the sun off, looks amazingly classy, and it's just as easy to wear. There really is no downside to going with the classics, even on vacation.

Here are some illustrations by way of example. They follow all the proportionate principles of Classic Style, so they are just as correct to wear today. Some details of fashion change over time, but there is no reason these can't look just as sharp as they did 'way back when they were new.

Let's start off with the guy in the red. See just how easy it is to alter the Old Standard into a classic ensemble? By merely swapping out a tee-shirt for a light sweater, cargos for Bermudas, and sneakers for white canvas boat shoes, you simply and easily stand out from the massed legions in their mass-produced crapwear. The guy on the left sports a prime example of a casual Bermuda suit.  His shoes might as well be modern Sperrys, and the light linen blazer he wears over a short-sleeved golf shirt keeps things breezy.  A straw hat, and bandanna in his breast pocket finishes the elegant look: all are just minor tweaks to the basic outfit. 

If you're off the shore and on the streets, don't discount a light summerweight suit for strolling around town. This tan suit with madras tie, suede blucher shoes and straw fedora would certainly look good at a nice dinner or walking the local shops. Notice especially the use of the scarf with the other outfit. Don't downplay the importance of the light scarf: loosely tied as a day cravat around the neck, it enables the jacket to be worn over a tee-shirt while avoiding the dated Miami Vice vibe. Use it with a jacket over a shirt without a collar, or paired with a jacket instead of a shirt altogether -- (be sure to keep the jacket buttoned unless you are going for the Yul Brynner look.)

There's no need to be tied slavishly to the jacket, though. Notice how the use of basic white slacks with a simple striped golf shirt can be just as striking. The details, like the white suede shoes with red rubber soles, and day cravat, make the simple outfit timeless and classic. Don't fear the day cravat. The day cravat is your friend.

This demonstrates just how easy it is to make a regular "home" outfit that one might wear in the summer, into one equally suitable for vacation wear, just by swapping out dark slacks for light grey ones, a brown trilby for a white Panama hat, and conservative brown captoe shoes for flashy spectators.

Here's the other extreme in resort wear -- probably as far as you'd want to push this classic ideal without crossing over into costumery. The chap on the left looks a bit ordinary, what with the shorts and plaid top. 

By swapping the shirt for an unstructured jacket, and adding a square scarf, you get a whole different "old money" vibe that works today, right down to the blue Sperrys. Worn with no shirt and a neckerchief, the jacket becomes the primary covering. With an unlined jacket, this way is actually more comfortable than wearing no shirt at all -- you have free cooling airflow while keeping off the direct sun.

As with any of these suggestions, possessing the force of character to be able to pull off these ensembles is a mitigating factor. Let's face it, some people can do the day cravat look, and some can't. The trick is to not wear anything self-consciously. If you are uncomfortable in an outfit, others are guaranteed to be uncomfortable with it as well. If you wear your clothes indifferently and well, all others will notice is how good you look. Give the Bermuda suit a shot when you go "on holiday" this spring and summer!

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The Science of Style

(Part Five of the series "Dressing the Average Guy.")

Chapter 5

Welcome back, my young charges! The time has finally come to step into the world of Classic Style. As I alluded to last week, Classic Style is not "just a suit," despite first appearances -- it is the framework upon which all modern variations of grown-up clothes are built. Since the early eighteenth century, what we call "a suit," viz., the trousers/vest/jacket combination, has undergone continual refinement and perfection, both in design and construction. But, before going forth and shelling out your dollars, you need to know just exactly what Classic Style is, and why it works. With this knowledge, you will be able to look at any piece of clothing, and not just realize that it looks wrong, but be able to quantify exactly why.

The basis of Classic Style is simply that clothes are fitted to the natural shape of the human form. This may seem obvious -- clothes are made for Homo Sapiens, after all -- but most articles of clothing deal in various exaggerations and distortions of form. These exaggerations can work within the Classic Style framework to enhance the proportions of any figure, but without knowledge of this all-important framework, things can get ugly and unflattering very quickly.

To illustrate the proper fit and proportion of Classic Style, we shall use the familiar Leonardo da Vinci sketch of the Vitruvian Man, marked as shown, and then virtually dress him from the feet up.

We won't go into any details of fabric, color, pattern, or texture just at present -- solely the fit. First, the shoes. They must be made of leather, with leather soles. There are a myriad of styles and methods of fastening, which I will detail at a later date, but the proportions must not be extreme in the length of the toebox, the height of the heel, or width of instep. In short, they must match the shape and proportions of the human foot, and if properly made and cared for, they will support the foot at all points and be comfortable to wear for decades.

Inside the shoes are worn socks. Not much to say on this subject, but they must not be white, must not sag, and must cover your calf to such an extent that we can't see your leg under your pants.

Trousers of any sort have a few very simple rules. There is not a lot of trouser structure dictated by Classic Style other than width and length.

Notice the blue line marked at A on the diagram. It is placed at the top of the pelvic bone, a couple inches below the navel. This is your waist, and thus where the waist of the trousers must sit. Fashion tends to adjust this line up or down over time, but the ideal place is right there. The pelvic bone is a solid anchor point which doesn't change when you move or walk, making it the best place for the waistband to firmly sit. Visually, it puts the transition between the chest and abdomen where it belongs naturally, hides any prominence of the belly, and frames the entire length of the leg.

If the waist sits too high, it restricts the abdomen and becomes uncomfortable, not to mention the soft tissues of the gut are not ideally suited for holding up pants. It also makes the torso look truncated, the legs overly long, and the long fly emphasizes any prominence of the stomach.

If the waist sits too low, the trousers sit on the hips, which is also uncomfortable and restrictive. The waistband then strains against any movement of the legs, and tends to "walk itself" even lower, necessitating continual "hitching up." The current trend is toward these low waists, and not only is its placement suboptimal, it visually lengthens the torso and makes the legs look disproportinately stubby, any "spare tire" is unveiled to the world, and in the worst of cases, the upper glutes are actually over the waistband, making the simple act of sitting a revealing experience.

Notice now the purple line at E. This is the southernmost extremity of the legs. The fashionable length may rise and fall with the rolling years, like the waistband, but ideally it sits just at the ankle. When standing, the hem should be on a slight diagonal, just covering the top of the shoe as to show no sock, and laying lightly across the instep of the shoe. When sitting with your legs crossed, the pant legs will rise to show just a bit of sock -- this is right and proper.

The width of the legs, as well, varies with the decades. Ideally, they should be wide enough to allow the fabric to fall in a smooth line from the widest point of the hips to the ankle, without sitting tight against the leg at any point, or billowing out at the hem.

Concerning your shirt, there are a great variety of styles and colors, but it is good to keep the proportions of the body preserved: the armholes should not be too large around, the collar buttoned should fit smoothly and comfortably around the neck without gaping, and it should be fitted from the shoulders into the waist to avoid excess fabric at that point. The tails should be long enough to tuck into the trousers and stay tucked. The cuffs should extend no further than the wristbone. Barrel cuffs (i.e., those that aren't French) are preferred for everyday use.

Now let's move on to the waistcoat (vest, in America.) This is most often by men considered optional, and is the first article of clothing regularly dispensed with. Before dismissing the humble vest out-of-hand, though, give it some consideration. There is a great deal of latitude in cut and fit, and it has historically been the point of greatest personalization in everyday wear. Fitted waistcoats are preferred to those which buckle across the back, but in all cases the one inviolate rule is that the bottom edge of the waistcoat must always extend further than A in the diagram, so as to cover the waistband of the trousers. Seeing a flash of shirt peeking out from under your waistcoat is reprehensible.

Classic Style ex desideratum includes a tie of some sort. Ties come in all shapes and sizes, long tie, bow tie, ascot, cravat, etc., and the one you require depends largely upon your personality and your personal morphology. (If this sounds like a topic suited for its own post at a later date, you're right! We'll cover this in detail later.)

But the most essential element is the jacket. There is some odd primal drive in the species to wear a jacket, so this is a concept that you will inherently understand. Your jackets may have in the past been of leather or denim or vinyl, and may have gone by the name of Biker, Bomber, Windbreaker, or Letterman. Even if you lived your life in a tee-shirt, and if it was cold you threw on a flannel shirt, untucked and unbuttoned, guess what -- your shirt had just become an ad hoc jacket!

So allow me to formally introduce you to the Grown-Up Jacket. It is in fact a highly engineered and constructed piece of clothing, that serves an important aesthetic function as well as a practical one. Underneath a jacket's fabric is a complex matrix of felt, canvas, horsehair, (yes, really!) melton, and cotton batting. There is a forest of pad-stitching, quilting, stay-stitching, and a dozen other stitches you haven't heard of yet, hidden deep inside. The modern jacket is a marvel of illusion: it looks simple, but isn't. The lapels, which look like they would fasten to the neck, don't. It looks like it simply wraps around you, but is made of multiple panels and darts. It looks like it fits right on your shoulders, but is in fact supported by a shaped canvas scaffolding. It looks like it would be restrictive and warm, but (especially in summer-weight fabric) it can be cool and comfortable.

There are a thousand details that differentiate one jacket from another, but for now we will only concern ourselves with the bare details of fit within the framework of Classic Style.

As to the silhouette: a proper jacket does not unduly accentuate any aspect of the human form. The shoulders, to the waist, to the hem, should follow the line of the body, the fabric following the curves smoothly, without wrinkling, pulling, or puckering. The shoulders should not be too wide, should be only moderately padded, and constructed so as to be in the shape of the natural shoulder. The collar should sit firmly against the back of the neck, and into the transition from the notch to the lapels. The lapels themselves should lay flat and tight against the chest at the top, and smoothly roll over to the buttoning point at the bottom.

As to the fit, it is very important that a jacket fit properly. Unlike the unconstructed jackets that you are used to wearing, a real jacket needs to fit you. When you wear a jacket, it should sit naturally to your body, as described above. It should not be too tight across the chest, nor should it gape open. When unbuttoned, the fronts should stay in place and not cross over or fall away. The armholes should not be so large that your jacket restricts you when you raise your arm. The jacket sleeves should sit slightly above your wrist bone, so that you show a quarter-inch of shirt sleeve at the wrist. (Many men wear their sleeves far too long.)

Now let's return to the Vitruvian Man.

The total length of a jacket should be as shown in the diagram with the green line B: the length from under your arm to the hem should be the same as the length of your arm-- in other words, you should be able to curl your fingers and grasp the bottom edge of your jacket when your arms are at your sides. Notice that this puts the bottom edge of the jacket at the red line C, which being as equidistant from the center of the Vitruvian Square as the waist at blue line A, the symmetry of the figure is preserved -- and also points out the vital importance of keeping a proper position of the waistband.

Take note of the lapels, shown by the yellow lines D at this point: by following the position of the inner lapel line from the neck to the waist point, and continuing these lines to the bottom edge, the cutaway from the buttoning point to the bottom edge is determined. As mentioned before, lapels are today purely cosmetic. Fashion has changed the width and length of lapels over time, but it is important to keep in mind the lapel's functional roots. 

The lapels should not be so thin that they won't meet if they were flipped over. Time, and decades of fashion change, have shown us that the ideal width for lapels is midway across the chest, between the lapel's inner edge and the armhole; so that the outer edge of the lapel points more or less to the edge of the shoulder. This provides a neat division of the width of the chest, evenly breaking the expanse of fabric. Less width than this, and you look all chest, and the lapels seem stingy and anemic. An error in the other direction, and the lapels look large and bulky.

This brings us to the buttoning point. There is a very simple rule that is followed with a proper jacket: the only button that is ever fastened is the one at (or nearest) the waist point, for reasons demonstrated above, at the intersection of lines A and D. Never button the bottom button of a two-button jacket, and never button the top button of a three-button. They are there for show. A vestige of historical use -- nothing more. They are not designed to be used. You have surely seen jackets of five or six buttons, that button all the way up like a vest -- they are not adherents of Classic Style, but aberrations of Fashion. (With the knowledge you have now, you should be able to instantly see the insignificant lapels, broad swath of chest, awkward front cutaway, and tubelike fit of this style.)

Since we started with shoes, we shall end with the Hat. Fortunately for all, the advancement of hat science was arrested around 1960, and has progressed very little since. This means any hat made in the last hundred years is pretty much equally acceptable today. In keeping with the overall theme, the watchword is moderation. A hat is a very personal purchase, and rest assured I will cover the topic in depth in future installments. While fedoras and trilbys of all manners are acceptable, (as is the newsboy and driving cap,) you should eschew extremes, like overly low crowns like the porkpie, overly round crowns like the bowler, and brims that are either too narrow or grandiose. (A brim of two inches for a fedora is a good average.)

You may well notice that basing the Classic Style on a Classic model like Mr. Vitruvius here, will work very well on a man of, well, perfect proportion. But what if you aren't perfect? What if you're too short, or fat, or tall, or have a prominent gut, or are barrel chested, or have no chest at all? What if your neck is scrawny, or walk with a stoop? Well, the brilliance of Classic Style is that by working within these limits, and tweaking the proportions of the details, you can compensate for just about any physical shortcoming. And we'll cover that, the next time we meet. See you then!

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