I’ve been sleeping under down comforters for more than thirty years. But when my puppy Lenore recently turned my bedroom into what looked like the massacre of a flock of seagulls (with an impressive debris field, I might add), I took the opportunity to try an alternative to a feather-stuffed comforter.
I recently posted a link on social media to an article in Huffington Post that challenged the ethics of Canada Goose’s use of real coyote fur on their jackets. For the record, I am vehemently opposed to fur.
I recently had a great lunch meeting with a friend who wanted to overhaul his wardrobe from the ground up. He had picked up on what I was doing, and wanted to get into a tailored look with custom suits, classic dress shirts and good shoes. To start, he wanted to keep things very simple and then expand his sartorial horizons once he got his sea legs. I was extremely flattered that he saw me as a good source for counsel. Not only was I happy to help, but I saw this as a personal opportunity to refresh my perspective on solid foundational essentials, dialing it back to the very basics.
In today’s men’s wear culture, it’s so easy to get caught up in what’s hot and so very right now while ignoring the ever-important basics. One might have the wardrobe to look super fantastic in a nightclub, at a fashion show, at Pitti Uomo or at a selvedge denim flea market packed with bearded bros, but put some of those guys at a wedding, an important business meeting or at the occasional black tie affair and they often look like they’re in the wrong room. At funerals, such sartorial illiteracy even looks disrespectful. It’s like having a collection of unique ornaments, glittering tinsel garland and flashing lights but no tree. It goes back to having the basics, which starts with shoes.
I should start by saying that I was a happy Indochino customer for years. They enabled me to afford some of the best-fitting suits I’ve ever worn and suits that rival far more expensive premium brands. I get compliments every single time I wear one of their suits or jackets.
This “fantasy rebrand” is an effort to raise the bar for the first company to put made-to-measure into the hands of men who – until Indochino – could never afford it. I think Indochino is great, but I think it could be amazing. The challenge is to elevate the brand from an entry-level “first suit” brand into a bigger league among heavier players – something that would also be attractive to a more seasoned and sophisticated suit buyer.
Ian Fleming was an average looking man with an ordinary physique. What he lacked physically he made up for with exceptional intelligence, wit, taste and talent for storytelling. From a privileged upbringing, he became a British naval intelligence officer (though not with assignments as intense as a 00 agent’s) and then a journalist. When he created the character of James Bond for his first novel (Casino Royale, 1953), Fleming essentially created an idealized version of himself: the man every women wanted to be with and every man wanted to be.
Have you guys seen the documentary The True Cost? It’s on Netflix. I watched it last night.
The film vividly highlights the global effects of a fashion industry on meth – an industry that pushes fast fashion with a furious fervor for more: more clothes, more stores, more stuff, more profits. Though it is often repetitive and redundant in making its point, the film’s point is an inconvenient and albeit important one.
I had the recent pleasure of being interviewed for Modern Renaissance Man, an up-and-coming Seattle-based style blog focusing on accessories. They posed some very interesting questions, giving me a free soapbox from which to spout my perspective on suits, “fashion” vs. “style,” trends, dressing for your age, and affordability.
My friend Baylen sent me a short but fascinating article in The Atlantic about the power of wearing a suit. The piece explores recent research about the psychological effect of “formal” clothing, both on the wearer and on those around him. In this episode of the podcast, I talk about how the article articulated and validated much of my own personal experience with a suit’s effect. When I made the decision in my late thirties to start regularly representing myself in suits (both for work and social occasions), things changed – and all for the better.
The operative word? Empowerment.
In certain sub-sects of menswear enthusiasts, there is a serious fetish for an extremely fine type of suit wool with an extraordinarily soft hand. These wools are delineated by what is called an “S” or “Super” number. The higher the S number, the finer the wool.
The number itself refers to the number of times the wool thread is twisted. The more the yarn is twisted, the finer and thinner it gets, yielding a super-soft fabric with an extremely silky feel.
The average wool suit that most men wear is probably made with somewhere between a Super 100s and a Super 120s. Maybe up to a Super 130s on the outside. The ultra soft (and ultra expensive) wools happen at around a Super 150s and can flirt with 200 or higher.
Here’s the thing with the higher numbers, though: While these high Supers are extraordinarily soft, they’re also very delicate, making them very impractical for regular wear. Sit for an hour in a suit made with Super 180s wool, and you’ll be far more wrinkled than someone wearing a Super 110s. Another drawback is that the high Super wools don’t “bounce back” like the lower numbers, which means your suit will need a press or a steam before each wearing.
Anyone with money can acquire. What’s more interesting to me is when someone does something fantastic with limited resources. There is a popular school of thinking that equates style and refinement with big spending – a frustrating philosophy backed up by countless magazines, blogs and online influencers pushing the luxury agenda. The new Men’s Style section of The New York Times appears to be yet another one.