Manly Machinery

(Part 2 of the series "The Island of Misfit Clothes")

Chapter 35

Last week, I made mention of a needle and thread for the purposes of sewing a button. The more astute among you may have seen the dark clouds looming on the horizon -- at some point, you're gonna have to sew! Fear not, my Average Guys: sewing for you will be a Dark Art no longer, for I shall reveal its intricacies for you, right now. Don't panic -- deep breaths now -- it's not that hard, really.

There's a small stash of stuff you will need to accumulate throughout this new series to do alterations on your clothing; none of it is too esoteric, and it's all pretty cheap and easy to find. First, though, I'm going to introduce you to what shall soon be your best friend: a good old used sewing machine.

 In my opinion, every man should have a sewing machine. Even if it sits in the attic and is only used once every couple of years, it's worthwhile. Don't bother buying one new; pick one up at a flea market or yard sale for a few dollars. I got this Sears Kenmore from the mid-60s, tucked away in a robust little sewing table from the 1940s, with a bucketful of accessories, at a garage sale a few years ago, for little more than pocket change.

They are remarkably robust pieces of machinery, full of manly crankshafts, rods, levers, and cams. Like any purpose-built machine, every knob and lever serves an important function. (And, like any purpose-built machine, you'll never have a reason to use 90% of its capability!) But, like any precision-engineered chunk of rapidly spinning metal, they do require maintenance, and more frequently than you might think. Keeping a bottle of light machine oil, like "3-in-1 oil," with your machine will be a constant reminder to keep it in good nick.

I always think it's good to know why things work the way they do. There's a ton of really good source material on sewing machine mechanics, if you want to be a real gearhead about it... On the other hand, you don't need to be a microwave electrician to cook a burrito; and the world is full of little blue-haired old ladies happily sewing away without the foggiest notion of what's happening inside their Shiny White Box.

Sewing machine technology has changed very little since Isaac Singer's machine in 1850. They all do a simple two-thread lockstitch. All the modern computerized frou-frou of today's machines is totally unnecessary for basic sewing. Even a hundred-year-old machine will do a straight line and a zigzag, and that's all you really need. All machines share the major components: the thread comes off a spool on the spool pin, down to the tensioner, up to the take-up lever, and down to the needle. A second, smaller spool (called the bobbin) sits under the bed. Compare this illustration to my 1960's era Kenmore:

They look different, but the mechanism is the same. Look at the business end (called the head) and you can easily identify the basic parts. You can see the thread coming down to the tensioner at A, up to the take up lever at B, and back down to the needle at C. The needle jabs down between the 'toes' of the presser foot at D, and underneath the presser foot are the feed dogs at E. The feed dogs are little serrated strips that grab the fabric and scoot it along between stitches. The presser foot holds the fabric down so the dogs get a good bite. You can even adjust how hard the presser foot presses, using the silver knob at the top.

To get an idea of how it stitches, let's take off the silver bed cover and take a peek below decks. You can see the needle at the top, punching down past the feed dogs. The cylinder bit at the bottom is the bobbin case, where resides the bobbin full o'thread. I've taken the bobbin out, the easier to show the curved, dagger-like circular piece inside the bobbin case called the shuttle. In a really cool mechanically-choreographed ballet, the needle plunges down through the fabric, while the shuttle rotates around and back, taking the bottom thread and looping it through the top thread. The needle pulls back up, the feed dogs move the fabric along, and the take-up lever jerks upwards, pulling the thread tight. The top needle plunges down again, the shuttle stabs across, and the process continues.

Now let's crack open the top and peek in at the works. Out of frame on the far right hand side is the hand wheel (called the machine pulley in the non-electric days), and you can see the crankshaft to the left of it. Further to the left are some cam-followers that do the fancy stitchin'. The important thing to see is that all the moving parts have little cups and holes on top; each one gets a single drop of oil. (Most noticeable here on the crankshaft.) Everything that moves or slides should get a drop of oil every so often. How often depends on how much you use it. If you let your machine sit for more than a few months, or use it more than two days in a row, oil it. Better too much than not enough.

Here are the complex cams, levers, and slidey bits that coordinate the needle and take-up lever; everything has a little oil hole.

All the varieties of stitches any machine is capable of, is simply a combination of needle movement left or right, and feed dog movement fore or aft. The needle movement determines the degree of zig-zag in the stitch, and the dog movement determines the stitch's length. The action of the stitch itself is always the same. The "programming" of the stitch variations is (on any machine of any age) done with an analog mechanical computer comprised of of cogs, cams, pins, and followers, that control the needle and dog movements; not a circuit board in sight.

Mastering a sewing machine is no different that mastering any other mechanical device. Once you procure one for yourself, practice and play around with it; most makes have owners' manuals online if yours doesn't still have one, and of course, there are online resources to familiarize yourself with the details of the adjustment controls, so I won't get too technical on that aspect here.

And another shot, this time looking up from below. Don't forget the rods and levers down here, too! They are harder to get at, but just as important. The bobbin case comes apart for easy cleaning, and the outer surface of the shuttle needs oil too. The main reason to break this area down is to clean out the lint and dust that accumulates. More often than not, a sewing machine that is given away because it "doesn't work any more" only needs a good cleaning, oiling, and a new needle, and it's good as new. (Don't tell the seller that, though!)

Next, let's talk about what you'll need for the basics of sewing by hand. Again, not as daunting as you might think. There's a place for machine sewing, and a place for handwork, but all sewing needs thread: so we'll look at that first. It doesn't look basic when you find yourself staring blankly at a wall full of Technicolor thread at your local mega-mart, but trust me on this.

You'll notice that thread comes in different weights for different uses: for us, an All-Purpose or Dual Duty variety will do fine. Fortunately, we can ignore all the bright rainbow colors, and choose some neutral grey tones that will match 90% of your wardrobe. (Since our stitching will be hidden and not decorative, getting "close" will be enough for us.) I wouldn't go darker than Oxford grey or lighter than Flannel. That'll limit our palette to this section of the Wall-O-Thread:

See? Getting simpler all the time.  Thread is inexpensive enough that if you wanted to match something exactly, you could...but you'd end up with endless spools you'll have no use for after one use. Trust me.

Next, you'll need hand sewing needles. To the uninitiated, something as simple as a needle can get complex quickly. There are upholsteries, embroideries, darners, tapestries, betweens, sharps...all in differing lengths and gauges, and eye sizes. Some are even curved. Fortunately, they're all well labelled, packaged so you can see what you're getting, and they're cheap.

Every needle is designed with a specific purpose in mind. Most of these you'll never have to worry about. With the kind of work we'll be doing, a good middle-of-the-road "sharp" will do fine. You want the length a little more than the first joint of your index finger, with an eye large enough that you can thread it easily. (Tiny needles and small eyes are for delicate silk work, so no need to torture yourself with a needle eye that's too small to easily thread.) We'll be mostly working with stout suiting fabrics, so the needle needn't be too delicate, either. If you're the type that just has to have a little of everything, a variety pack of needles can be had for just a couple bucks, and you'll never buy a needle again.

You'll need a pair of fabric shears (otherwise known as "scissors.") You can lay out big bucks for a pair of tailor's shears to hand down to your great-grandchildren, but something simple will work just as well. I have the pair shown here, a Westcott Titanium, and they've cut their way through dozens of yards of fabric and haven't gotten dull yet; a great bargain.

While we're in the mega-mart's sewing section, you'll need a box of Quilting Pins. These little babies are handy as heck for, well, pinnin' stuff together. The bright yellow heads make it easy for you to see them when you accidentally drop the box and send pins flying all over your carpet. (Again, trust me on this.)

You may not find these next few things at a general merchandise store ...you may have to try fabric or craft stores. Truthfully, it can be a little daunting if you've never frequented one, since you will be the only male there. (The blue-hair grandmotherly types will adore you, though.)

A tape measure of the flexible kind. Traditionally they were cloth; most now are vinyl or plastic.

Tailor's chalk. No, regular chalk won't work. Tailor's chalk is made with clay, sharpens well, makes a good sharp line, and brushes off most fabrics without a trace. Usually comes in triangular or bar form, in several colors. Handy stuff. 



A seam-ripper. Also called a stitch unpicker. Zips apart stitches without damaging the fabric. To be honest, even the best purpose-built seam rippers can't beat a good ol' Xacto knife. You have to be a little more careful, as it isn't as idiot-proof as a 'ripper; but it's a good deal sharper and more precise.

This covers your basic equipment. No, you don't have to run out and get everything today -- as the Misfit Clothes series progresses, we'll continue going from simple and basic to more complex tailoring fixes, so there's plenty of time for you to get familiar and practice from week to week. See you then!

Click here to go to the next essy chronologically, Part Three of The Island of Misfit Clothes.

Click here to go back to the previous essay chronologically, Part One of The Island of Misfit Clothes.

Click here to go back to the beginning.

Who's Got The Button?

(Part 1 of the series "The Island of Misfit Clothes")

Chapter 34

If there is one thing that I have hopefully impressed upon you over lo these many months, it is that the most important attribute of your clothes is an exactness of fit. And if there are two things, it is how very beneficial it is to find a good local tailor who both makes traditional clothes and does alterations. Money spent on altering your clothes to fit you, is money well spent.

But I am also aware that money is tight in these dark times; and when jobs are scarce, unemployment is high, economies are weak, and currencies are unstable, money for tailors will nearly always take a back seat in favor of money for food.

In previous installments, I have shown you how to take the thrifty path to dressing well: how to measure yourself, and shop for your togs in an efficient way that saves both time and ready cash; the result of which is an old-money look on a no-money budget. The rule stands that the more work you can do yourself, the more wampum remains in your wallet; and this is equally true for tailoring and alterations as for anything else.

So here we embark at the start of a brand-new mini-series that will take us through Christmas (thus the name!) and beyond. No, I will not try to make you into a tailor! What I will do, is show you some minor alterations you can do on your own clothes to improve their exactiude of fit -- and why your clothes act the way they do. In many cases, these corrections are "work-arounds:" they take a major problem and redirect it into a minor one. It won't take the place of a professional tailor re-working your clothes, but it will greatly reduce the number and severity of your misfits, to the point that your clothes will withstand all but the most critical scrutiny, and with no undue outlay of capital.

We will start on the most basic, and simplest, of alterations. It involves the slight repositioning of a jacket button, to the extent of perhaps a half-inch. It will take you very little time, but it is a good basic start to the series -- and it will make a tremendous impact on the way your jackets will fit.

Like all clothing misfits, this one comes about because the shape of your clothing does not exactly jibe with the shape of you. Jackets are cut straight and symmetrical -- but no one stands exactly straight. We invariably meet with some element of contrapposto, which results when you stand with your weight more on one foot than the other. This results with one leg straighter than the other, which affects your hips, your spine, your shoulders, and your neck; each twisting a bit one way and then a bit the other way to compensate for the shifts in balance. Nothing wrong with that; to the contrary, a contrapposto stance is a relaxed and natural one. With the passage of years, your particular stance becomes habitual. Let's look at an example.

This tailor's form is an exact duplicate of my natural stance. (You can make one too: I show you how in the installment called Say Hello To My Little Friend.) You can clearly see the contrapposto in the shoulders. The red line is the horizontal plane, and the yellow line runs from shoulder point to shoulder point. You can see how the right shoulder is noticably lower than the left. You may have never noticed this in yourself -- but take a closer look at what happens with a jacket that doesn't reflect that difference!

This jacket is a proper fit across the chest. That's important: for an alteration like this, the jacket should fit as well as possible otherwise. One that isn't the right size to start with will swallow this relatively minor problem up in much larger ones, as we'll see later. Here's the misfit: when the jacket is buttoned, the right side is pushed up, because it is trying to sit square across both shoulders. Since the right shoulder is low, the jacket will feel heavier and tighter on the left shoulder, and light on the right.

A jacket's collar should sit tight to the back of the neck at all times: that is the hallmark of good fit. Any misfit in the jacket will more often than not show up and make itself most readily apparent by gapping the collar. Here you can clearly see the collar gapping on the right hand side only, as the button pushes the lapel upwards and over the shoulder. This makes the lapel gape open, too, and the whole right side of the jacket feels loose and "off."

Now see what happens when we unbutton the jacket! The shoulder falls immediately into place, the lapels fit against the chest, and the jacket feels more comfortable overall. Notice that the extra fabric has to have somewhere to go, so the right side "falls away" at the bottom more than the left side does, and the right hem looks just barely longer.

Look at the neckline again: the collar gap has disappeared, and the right chest now fits as smoothly as the left. You may be temped to merely wear the jacket unbuttoned all the time, but this can be darned inconvenient. Unlike formal wear, casual jackets can and should be worn buttoned whenever the weather or your inclination dictates.

Take a closer look at the button-point and see what the fabric is doing. Because of the lower shoulder, the jacket is acting like the right side is physically longer than the left, and the button ends up lower than the buttonhole. If you were to take a line around the back of the jacket, as shown by the yellow arrow, you would notice it winds downhill in a slight spiral. The body of the jacket is acting like a tube that has been split open and slightly offset. Simply moving the buttons up slightly would do a world of good in the coat's fit.

It wouldn't be a perfect solution, though. Any correction that doesn't take into account where the fabric goes, only shifts the error from one part of the jacket to another part. To see how, let's look at a jacket's balance.

The balance of any coat is the relationship of the relative length of its front and back. A jacket that is too large will have a proportionately larger chest, which necessitates more fabric out in front to cover it. When worn buttoned, the extra fabric will pull the lapels up, the collar will gape open at the back, and the shoulders will be loose, and too far back. When unbuttoned, the neck will fall into place, but the fronts will fall away, and the jacket will billow out at the rear. Sound familiar? That's just what's happening with one half of this jacket; as if the right half is too long. Which, as we now know, is essentially correct. So we also know that the extra fabric in front will be thrown down and to the rear, as the red arrows show. That is the trade-off of this fix: the extra fabric at the neck when buttoned, is shifted to the vent, which is a much less noticable area. (It is also much easier to fix later by taking in the side seam a bit, but we will cover that in later weeks!)

The fix is simple. Cut the threads that retain the button.

Pull the cut threads out of the fabric, and smooth the fabric with your fingers until the holes are no longer visible. Easier to do with tweed than broadcloth, obviously.

Smooth the collar and lapels down, and put the fronts together where they should go. Mark the position of the buttonholes on the button side with horizontal marks made with tailor's chalk. (Tailor's chalk is very handy and cheap, and available at the sewing section of your neighborhood craft store...more on that next week.)

With the fronts still together, stick a pin through the buttonhole where the button will come through.

Take the fronts apart, and make a vertical mark where the pin is. Make a mark for the bottom button too, the same distance from the edge as the top button.

A line across the back, as before, now shows a straight line between the two points. The actual grain of the fabric is still on a slight spiral, but the degree of twist is so slight as to not be noticable by any but the closest scrutiny.

 

Re-attach the buttons at the marks. The jacket will now fit properly through the neck, whether buttoned or not, and the fall-away at the fronts will be minimal. The length of the hem and the height of the pockets will be different on left and right, but not noticeably so -- and this is a small price to pay for the much improved fit and ease of wear overall!

Which shoulder actually sits lower on you depends on the way you stand, of course; and the buttons can just as easily be moved down as up. Generally, right-handed people stand with their right shoulder slightly lower, but this isn't a hard-and-fast rule.

(If you don't know how to sew a button, there are many good Internet tutorials covering the sewing basics. Being handy with a needle will certainly be a help in the coming weeks of this series, but I will leave the basics for you to learn on your own; as the aforementioned tutorials can do a much better job of instruction at whatever particular level of expertise you require.) 

Click here to go to the next essay chronologically, Part Two of The Island of Misfit Clothes.

Click here to go to back to the previous essay chronologically.

Click here to go back to the beginning.

Emmy or Isn't He?

(The first annual "Best Dressed Man at the Emmys" award)

Chapter 33

The Emmy Awards has come and gone, that multimillion-dollar orgy of smug self-congratulation for managing to fill the earth's airwaves for another year with show after show after show of mind-numbing sameness. Yay! With any luck, the aliens that have been monitoring our television transmissions since 1948 can't figure out the change to digital broadcasting, and will assume our society has imploded under the weight of its own dullness. Which wouldn't be that far off the mark, come to think of it.

But enough of that -- on to the clothes! No, not the dresses, we'll leave that to, well, everyone else. Here, the focus is on the masculine side of things. I've tortured myself on your behalf, watching hours of the Yearly Travesty, to bring you a representative sample of the good, the bad, the ugly, and worse, when it comes to Hollywood formal wear.

Seth Myers made the comment on the red carpet, that the "best dressed man doesn't look as good as the worst dressed woman," and that "no one wants to see the tuxes." Well, Seth, I would only add that you may be right, but only because most of the men all dressed so poorly. There were a very few instances of truly properly dressed gents, and yes, they were notable by their neat appearance.

The first thing to note, is that in contrast to the Tony awards, which I covered in a previous installment, the overall look was more trendy and far less classic. And the second thing to note, is that the further off-track from the classic tuxedo one deviates, the worse one looks. It was demonstrated here again and again.

As per the tradition here, the photos here were taken on the red carpet, before the ceremony, at the start of the evening -- so theoretically, the outfits are at their freshest, best, and least rumpled. The examples are given in natural light for the overall impression, and then I turn up the contrast, so we can study the details.

Let's start with the least painful examples, and gradually descend into the depths of sartorial Perdition; then I will give my ruling and present the Dress Like A Grown-Up! Award for Best-Dressed At The Emmys.

 I'll start out with Jim Parsons, for the simple reason that he was the only person in attendance wearing a waistcoat, as well as the only person wearing a batwing bow tie. The entire ensemble is inky black velvet, with silk covered buttons and peak lapels. The fit is spot-on: notice the width of the shoulders and the length of the sleeves.

Now let's turn up the contrast:

There are some errors here: you can see pulls across the chest of the jacket, as it strains against the button point. This jacket is designed to be worn open, and should be worn so. No fault of Jim's, but the jacket itself is cut too short; notice the stingy length of the hem. The jetted pockets, single button, lack of a breast pocket, and the high peaked hand stitched lapels tick all the right boxes. A longer hem would make it look a little less bottom-heavy, as would a bit more shaping to the chest...

Or would it? Wait for it.....

You can see how simply wearing the jacket open solves many of the apparent fit problems across the chest. The wrinkles and pulls fall out, the waist suppression falls into place, and the whole thing sits easier on him. Is it perfect? No -- I wouldn't have gone with velvet for the waistcoat and trousers, and Jim should have worn braces with his trousers: you can see the dreaded Flash of Shirt under the waistcoat. Still, he wins Runner-Up for Best Dressed of the night in my estimation, for the use of this classic cut with the waistcoat, instead of ditching it like everyone else did.

Next, let's look at Jeremy Piven. Jeremy frustrates me at these events: it's obvious he knows what formal wear is supposed to be, has very good taste, knows what looks good on him, and wears it well. He just always bends the rules too far. Here, the shoes are sharp, trouser length is perfect, sleeve length is perfect, shoulders are elegant and the overall silhouette is fantastic. So why would he ruin the effect with a long tie and unbuttoned collar?! Why, Jeremy, WHY?

Let's turn up the contrast and take a closer look at that jacket... 

The jacket is elegant and correct at all points -- just look at those grosgrain silk lapels! But having stepped right up to the line of perfection, Piven backed off with the hiphugger pants and awful tie. Just imagine this jacket with real pants, a matching grosgrain bow and cummerbund, with the jacket worn open! So close, Jeremy, so very, very close.

Oh, bee-tee-doubleyou: I'm fairly certain you had sufficient prior warning of this event to have scheduled a shave. Just sayin'.



I must say I expected better of Hugh Laurie. Proper formal wear is in the British DNA, after all. This looks a little awkward on him, which is surprising. You can immediately see his sleeves are too long, as are his trousers, and his shoes are some sort of grey suede. Let's look closer...

Here we see the problem. Although the overall length is correct, the three-button stance makes the fronts far too long for his already tall frame. Even though he (quite correctly) wears it at the second button, the lapels are rolling to the first. This gives a stubby lapel and that weird tube-shape to his silhouette. The shoulders are too wide as well. And notch lapels? Hugh, old bean, what were you thinking?

Jimmy Fallon, on the other hand, was a pleasant surprise. Most comedians go for shock and ridiculousness in their evening wear. Jimmy's tux was fitted and tailored well, and he wore a bow tie and very nice classic starched-collar shirt. The collar shape, although you can't see it in this picture, was perfect for him. Such things do matter.

He followed the trend (erroneously, I believe) of narrow notch lapels, low trousers and no vest or cummerbund; but it fit so well I could almost overlook that. Almost.

Will Arnett went similarly classic, but did Jimmy one better by going for the peak lapel.

Of a greater shock was LL Cool J, who, despite the silly hat, looked amazing. His trousers fit -- and do you notice the lack of shirt-flash under the jacket? Could this be a cummerbund in play?

Yes, there were minor style problems: it's a notch-lapel, and wearing a white tie is bending the black-tie rules just a little, and it is a button-two, and he is wearing it closed...BUT look at the fit, look at the lines!  See the shaping over the chest, and the cutaway of the fronts? Very well, done, L. (Can I call you L?)

One way to skirt the issue of trouser height without deferring to braces, cummerbunds, or waistcoats, is to simply employ the option of the double-breasted jacket. They are completely correct for evening wear, simply a more casual option. Let's look at the details of Jon Hamm's jacket.

This is a six-button-two, buttoned at the top button. Unlike single-breasted tuxedos, which should always be worn unbuttoned, a double-breasted jacket should always be worn buttoned like this. The shawl collar is perfect for the casual lines of this style, and notice the cuff at the wrist? A nice Edwardian touch. It may be the style of Mad Men rubbing off on him, but Jon got this outfit right in spades.

Topher Grace is also wearing a double-breasted model, in midnight blue, albeit with much less success. A hallmark of good formal wear is a generous expanse of shirtfront to just above the waist. The unbroken swath of black gives him the "I'm a funeral director" look, rather than a look that says "I'm at a gala party." Let's see why that is...

First, there's not nearly enough shirt showing. The long tie just covers too much. The lapels are a problem: they're rather broad and awkwardly shaped. The button stance is too tall, the waist point is too high, and it's the wrong size -- it hangs from the lapels and drags forward. Good effort, but it's a swing and a miss. Back to the dugout for you.

These next few guys are examples of a disturbing fashion trend. I won't even bother to show these in natural light, but we'll jump straight to the high-contrast. You've seen one, you've seen them all...

 

Chris Colfer was the worst offender. The jacket is horrid, short and shapeless, with wee little tiny lapels. The skinny little tie and skinny little trousers just give the effect of some kinda grotesque, Tim Burtonesque marionette.

Colfer may be excused for just following blind fashion labels, he's young enough to not know any better, although some one should really have told him he looks like an idiot.

Not so Rainn Wilson; he's too old to dress like this. The sad little lapels and tiny bow tie make him look like he's a bobblehead trying to squeeze into Pee-Wee Herman's tux. There's no elegance here, nor drape, nor shape, nor anything that gives a tuxedo its sense of easy elegance. Like Colfer, he looks uncomfortable just having to wear it.

Blues Brother or Man In Black? Wilmer Valderrama does know better than this; he should be ashamed for blatantly following such a cheesy fashion trend. Itsy-bitsy lapels and skinny tie notwithstanding, it's not even a tux, just a black suit...and he's showing way too much bling for a formal affair anyhow.

And we continue our slide, ever downward into the quicksand of inexplicable sartorial choices.

Ian Somerhalder is a poster-boy illustration of what goes horribly wrong when an Average Guy tries to do formal without any real knowledge of what he is doing. Perhaps his handler shoved this tux in his hands, and he was told to wear it. Maybe he had to get someone else to tie his tie. Maybe no one told him that perhaps a haircut and wash would make him look like less of a douchebag. Regardless of any of this, here he stands, a loathsome smarmy grin on his face, agonizingly self-aware of how good he thinks he looks.

And here's the train wreck. Nina Dobrev obviously took a little bit of care with her appearance. Contrast that with the slouchy, I'm-here-with-my-mommy posture, lank hair, askew tie, hands jammed in his pockets, pants around his hips, and that same Bell's-Palsy-grin. Absolutely shameful: this could be the drawing in my very first post, illustrating the disparity in maturity of "adult little boys" who don't dress like grownups.

The puzzle that is Ian complexifies a bit in high-contrast, for here we can see that his jacket is, in fact, very, very nice! Jetted pockets, shawl lapels, and very well shaped and proportioned, from the shoulders right down to the hem. And notice the link-front buttons! What we have here, then, isn't a bad outfit -- merely the complete inability to wear it. If he had completed the outfit, whether by cummerbund or vest, tied his tie better, and worn the jacket opened, this would have been a very nice outfit. Too bad his acting experience hasn't yet extended to displaying elegance. Or insouciance.

Jon Cryer: Leather lapels? Really? Really?

Steve Buscemi: tall and thin, he is the ideal build for a tuxedo. He should be able to pull of a fitted, broad-chested look that is classic and elegant. So why, why does he always look like a Goth scarecrow? Scorcese, who is built like a fire hydrant, wears a tux so much better. Of course, he comes from an era when guys knew how to wear tuxes.

This next group is so wrong, they don't even deserve the high-contrast studies. A glance shows their errors in stark relief.

Michael Pitt, who is channeling either Hamlet, Johnny Cash, Anakin Skywalker, or a kabuki puppeteer. His date has apparently killed an emu in the parking lot for a snack later.

Oh, my, Joel McHale has stolen a tux from a twelve-year old, and is wearing it inside-out! Oh, the humanity! Oh, the humiliation!

 

Alan Cumming has apparently gone insane again. His sleeves are far too long, his lapels aren't silk lined, and, although he IS wearing a proper cummerbund, the odd square-cut fronts of his jacket and low button position are a little outre for this venue.

And, oh yes...the geisha pants.

 

Seal shows more cleavage than Heidi. I need say no more.

There are more -- many more -- examples with which I may scorch your retinas, but I will force myself to stop just shy of the Worst Dressed Attendee. Instead, I shall reverse course, and end on a high note.

And that high note, is the First Annual Dress Like A Grown-Up Best-Dressed Guy At The Emmys, who I award to...

David Boreanaz.

The tux is absolutely classic. The details are all there: the perfect amount of pocket square showing, the bow tie of ideal proportion, the shirt collar crisp and starched. There is not a hint of shirt showing under the jacket. And most importantly, he wears the tux; the tux does not wear him. He strikes the casually elegant ideal; dressed perfectly and seemingly effortlessly.

The jacket is deepest midnight blue, with shawl collar and jetted pockets. The only deviation from classic standard is that the silk facing doesn't run all the way to the edge of the lapels. The length, proportions, and size are all spot-on -- length, button-point, sleeves, shoulders, chest shaping, are just what and where they should be. In short, all the areas where others have failed by changing the proportion, he triumphs by preserving them.

Is it perfect? No...It should still have been worn unbuttoned and with a cummerbund, but without one, buttoning is the next best thing. The tie knot is a little small to my eyes: one a bit more substantial would have looked nice.

Congratulations, David...Seth Meyers may not be looking at the tuxes, but your sartorial insight did not go unnoticed in this little corner of the interweb.

So what have we learned from the parade of black suits on the red carpet?

One, the going fashion aberration is tiny little lapels, short jackets, and hiphugger pants, the silhouette that of a boy who has outgrown his childhood coat but continues wearing it...

Two: no one knows dinner jackets are supposed to be worn unbuttoned, or that your shirt is only supposed to be seen as far as the jacket's button point, arrested by a cummerbund or waistcoat. A bit of shirt showing under those short jackets is thus the sad standard.

Third: designer labels mean nothing. I don't care if your tux was designed by John St. Ugliè. I would respect you more if you said your tux was made by a 90 year old man I've never heard of, who works in a basement in an alley of Jermyn St., and it took him eight months of stitching by hand to make it.

And finally, fourth: there's no excuse for these blazingly rich Hollywood darlings to not have fitted, bespoke classic tuxedos. They have mountains of cash to spend on jets to Savile Row for multiple fittings, and a highly public lifestyle to make such purchases a wise investment.

Click here to go to the next essay chronologically.

Click here to go to the next annual "Best Dressed Man at the Emmys" award.

Click here to go back to the previous essay chronologically.

Click here to go back to the beginning.