Astaire for summer

Astaire is a great style hero for summertime. Clothes can grow lean and baggy with winter, but, with the possible exception of linen pants, summer clothes seem to me to look best lean.

The Wisdom of Fine Dress

I've been thinking a bit about Solomon recently, Solomon and his proverbs. Now, you don't have to be a neo-puritan to recognize the guy had some smart things to say. His words about diligence, intelligence, the value of knowledge and hard work are well worth reading. He also might surprise the uninitiated with some thoughts rather unlike those of modern mainstream Christianity.
For example: it is interesting that, while Proverbs warns against the dangers of many of the "finer" things of life - wine, women, fine beds, fine foods, etc... but it does not warn against fine clothes. In fact, it encourages fine clothes, and encourages the wise woman to clothe her families in the finest style of the day.
It seems obvious that the writer of Proverbs understands better than many how important fine dress is, even in his day. How much more are they important today, when we have become so much more highly visible, and when the demands of modern life encourage quicker judgments of character.

Picture taken, with all the greatest respect, from the Sartorialist.

Jimmy Stewart and the Double Breasted Suit

Last week, I watched "The Shop Around the Corner" a delightful old film, with plenty of delightful winter clothes. I know it's not winter, but I want it to be, and just about August is a good time to start thinking about what clothes one wants to wear in winter, as, if he's going to get any sort of deal on them, he must get them now.

One of the little interesting details in this movie is (you can just barely see it in this picture) that Jimmy Stewart wears a double breasted suit with vest. Some cry fowl at this, but I think it a quite allowable point, especially since the vest, always covered by the buttoned front, will always be subtle. One could even, had one the tendencies of a dandy, wear a colored vest, perhaps in a knit or even in silk.

Also, watch for the shopkeeper's fur-lined coat. There's something that looks warm and cuddly inside, yet without the buisness-inappropriate nature of fur on the outside.

You can read my full review of The Shop Around the Corner in my other Blog, kingdom of information.

Daniel Craig

When Esquire made the announcement that Daniel Craig was Esquire's best dressed man for 2008, I heard a lot of crap about "just because he's Bond." those people haven't been paying attention.







There you are. Proof enough for me, and there is more.

The T Shirt

As much as there are times when a the best, even the only thing a man can wear is a suit. There are other times when the best thing to wear is a t-shirt.

When these times come, as they often do with summer, the two best to turn to are (obviously) James Dean and Marlon Brando. Note about Brando and Dean - their t-shirts are solid, or, in this rare Dean moment, have a small logo. Also note, when they wear them, they are lounging or moving, not doing business. Or wearing a suit jacket.

The t-shirts are also not emblazoned with a humorous, pithy slogan, which, while fitting for a college t-shirt, is far too loud for a man. If one must indulge (and is young enough) I highly recommend picking a favorite quote from literature or film and having it affixed to a t-shirt. Not terribly difficult or expensive, but, at least, unique.

In Search of History: Heroes of Style

Perhaps what every orphan searches for is a history he can believe is his own.

And so, I too, will try to find a history, by speaking of people I admire when it comes to clothes.

One of whom: Charlie Chaplin.

Chaplin may not be the first thought on the mind of so many today in whom there is a proper return to elegance. Chaplin was the dark side of elegance.

It is quite possible that few understood the clothes of his age as completely as Chaplin. To begin with, he consistently used dark suits and white shirts to highlight his high-contrast complexion, furthered by the washed-out effect of early black and white film, as well as the darkness of his mustache. The mustache itself accomplished the effects of good clothing - focusing and refining the emotions of the face. We are constantly drawn to his face, and he constantly draws us there, only rarely by the obvious means of the close-up shot, more often by the way he looks, the way he dresses. This faciocentrism (face-centeredness) is an effect many others can only hope to accomplish.

Even more, Chaplin's most well-known creation was born in clothes, and midwifed by the sartorial urge: Chaplin said: "I thought I would dress in baggy pants, big shoes, a cane and a derby hat. everything a contradiction: the pants baggy, the coat tight, the hat small and the shoes large." In these clothes he birthed that clown who is "higher than a politician" and as elegance's dark side, revealed the true elegance of witty self-depreciation.

Orphan: A perspective on the history of clothing

I've been reading a few books on clothing recently, Esquire's Man at his Best, and Boyer's Eminently Suitable. While both of them are excellent, they seem repetitive. They share the same stories about blazers, about Harris Tweed, about Cary Grant. What I feel we need, and perhaps desperately, are not new styles, but new perspectives to add richness to the old styles. New stories, new memories. Unfortunately, to this I can add very little.

Some of the best writing about clothes I can remember is writing about one's father's clothes. The smell of his tweed. The strange, unearthly shine of his shoes. I have none of these. I was not interested in clothes when I was young, and, on top of that, my father had no aged Edward Greens. He dressed well, certainly, and wore suits regularly, but there was no age there, not enough money for rich style. He made do. He made do very well, but it was, ultimately, making do, at least, from what little I remember. Even if he had a strong sense of style, it was not a lesson he taught me. He taught me better things. And so, I feel like a sartorial orphan, with strange, adoptive parents, Gary Cooper, or James Dean... adoptive parents who were never personal, and have all the strange, otherworldliness of a shining screen.