Curling Sweaters

 I received an email which began like this:

     "Dear Yankee Whisky Papa, I live in an old Scottish castle..."

Off to a good start!  But as it turned out, he is a graduate student exchanging free rooming for volunteer docent/caretaker duties at a landmark which expends endowment largess on all but salary and heating.  With genuine and understandable wallowing, the scholar continued:

     "I am miserable!  Its cold beyond belief and my [thesis] is the only thing that keeps me here in this bargain."

So much for the romantic notion of outdated European castle living.

 
Much of the iconic Edwardian style we hold dear actually has less-than-romantic origins.  The heavy tweeds, layering, and snugged neckwear were all components of a society which attempted to proceed formally and  normally while indoor temperatures were often between 50 and 60 degrees (10-15 for those with a European ISP, and roughly 286 for the Kelvinists).  Many of the old houses in Europe were cold and drafty, with wildly differing temperatures from room to room.  Because heating was a relatively expensive and inefficient pursuit, one would heat the room in which they planned to stay for a while, close off the doors to other rooms, and hope that the waistcoated suit would keep the torso warm while the hot tea cup or pipe thawed the stiff fingers a bit.  Old city houses and old farm houses tend to have cold and drafts in common.  In many historically registered neighborhoods, things like storm windows are effectively illegal, with municipally-chartered review committees disallowing certain modernizations.  While there is a preservation argument to be made, the effect becomes architectural taxidermy, and the frustrations concerning it are why you see old Yankees using hair-dryers to shrink-wrap their sashes (frame and all) every December.  Guests are occasionally taken aback by strong temperature differentials in these old houses, and a trip up a back stair or down a hallway to an unoccupied bathroom during a party can be a temperature drop of 20 degrees.

Enter the curling sweater.  The lovably ludicrous sport of curling has produced platoons of very attractive and nimble (including Olympic level) athletes, and while they now wear more contemporary designs, the curling sweater lasts on an a style staple.

 

Wife: "Honey, I'm going out to pick up some hot curlers for tonight."    Husband: "Me too."

The curling sweater (often confused with the "Cowichan" sweater) is nearly jacket-lengthed, unusually thick (packing them for travel is difficult), and always with a heavy shawl collar.  Patches showing allegiance to a curling club are standard, and a conservative and spare stripe or two across the shawl-front give it a sporting look.

These dashing gents wear the Glengarry hat, while other traditionalists opt for the Tam.

Their design is meant for both warmth and maneuverability, and most have an extra button towards the top of the neck to close it should things get very cold.

Canada, Minnesota, the Dakotas, Michigan, and the Lakes Region all have thrift stores with beautiful and imposing curling sweaters in them.  I still regret cheaping-out on a white and red number I found at a Toronto consignment shop years ago.

 

When I venture onto a frozen pond, multiple giant stone weights are not in my usual safety inventory.

My usual around-the-house one is a genuine artifact, though only wearable below 65 degrees.



Cousins to the curling sweater are the hybrid curling/Cowichans.  I found this delightfully ridiculous one at an online thrift shop.  It's lined in cheap-but-heavy windbreaker-nylon, very warm, and with a zipper.

 

A trip outside for a pipe, cigar, or private fresh-air conversation during a winter party will be far more tolerable in one of these.  If you do get one second-hand, consider unstitching and returning the patch to the curling club from where it was issued.  If the club no longer exists, keep it on.

Vintage baseball "warm-up" sweaters (nearly identical to curling sweaters) are very rare, because while a curling sweater from the 1920's is tossed to the thrift stores, baseball sweaters are (unfairly) considered  precious memorabilia with the free market dictating astronomical prices.  In the picture below, you can see that our beloved Boston team once dressed well.

In the next photo, we see a misnamed team from New York take the field on opening day in 1923.  All are in matching sweaters fastened high, and are being drummed in by a marching band.  Also of note is that every face in the stands has a hat above it, and a tie below it.


Note the advertisements at the stadium: Gem Safety Razors, Boston Garters (to hold a man's socks up in those days), Arrow Collars, Harry & Mannie (discussed, but unkown), and what appears to be a cement company.

For more excellent vintage baseball sweaters, check out the photos at uniwatchblog.

Happy deep winter from New England.

An Affordable Black Tie Wardrobe

Over the weekend, Giuseppe Timore and I took an evening of black tie and racquet sport awards functions.  Pictured above in the more quiet moments before the evening got a hold of itself, Giuseppe is sporting a vintage silk shawl-collared dinner jacket and equal trousers.  His shirt is a fantastic black-watch tartan which presents only the white bib and cuffs when worn under a jacket (with a removable collar).  While his wardrobe's acquisition expenditure was literally fractions (1/1000 by his estimate) of many of the other assemblies that evening, it was of a better fit and patina than just about anything at the event (speaking only of the men, of course).  If he is convincingly clear in his writing, he is surgically articulate in person, and embodies a quiet and certain combination of pragmatic discipline, easy humor, and time-warp charisma.  My overcoat for the evening was a purchase from his online shop, and is now my most frequent winter outer.

The evening once again proved that attention to tradition combined with vigilant skepticism of contemporary guidelines will produce a firmly excellent men's wardrobe... and if you're lucky, for pennies on the dollar.




***NOTE: Blog followers and commenters: Thank you for the emails and questions.  I automatically post comments from followers (click the 'follow' button to the right), but indicate whether or not the comments are for posting or are for me.  Your questions and ideas (even some of the rude ones) contribute to the content of this blog, so keep them coming!

Handmade Pocket Squares

"Sale Price: $75".  That was the tag on a pocket square I found recently.  I put it back as quickly as I had picked it up.  $75?  Once in a while, a nice Hermes square fits the bill handsomely, but they are a bit more than just a simple pattern on silk... many are nearly art pieces themselves, and with a pricetag to match.  From plains to patterns, there are endless directions that one can take when choosing them.  When a friend decided that the shops were not offering anything unique, the dapperjack allowed his frustration an outlet and began putting together his own squares.  While he works occasionally in silk, vivid cottons are his preferred textile, and he produces some unique and eye-catching squares.  Always double sided, his pieces stand sturdy in the pocket, and whether in peaks or folded edges they become a bold and talked about element whenever worn.

Another touch, is the bordering high-contrast threads color he chooses, perhaps as a mark of "hand-made", drawing attention to the fact that they are stitched together from two independent pieces of fabric.  Sometimes, the fabrics on either side represent two opposing or complimenting views or moods, sometimes they are just two different fabrics that look great together with no meaning behind them.




 

Below, a square with nouns on one side as a tribute to a baby son's first word, finished with a striking midnight blue and patterned backing:

  

A dark square with contrasting white stitching as tribute to a wife's beloved childhood pet:

 


Other Adventures In Pocket Squarery


I had some surplus silk I found 15 years ago in Charlottesville, VA, and took it from its hibernation den shoebox and brought it to Beacon Hill Cleaners (151 Charles St. Boston) who are capable of truly elegant stitching and making clothing fit right.  They turned my two yards of postage-stamp patterned silk into a scarf and two pocket squares.





A thrift store in Keene, NH offered this vivid and LARGE scarf for fifty cents.  While my eyes are always on the lookout for navy/white pocket squares, this one had another surprise.



Some slender and attractive Nordic neck was once kept fashionably warm while greeting passengers.





Below, a stack of thin-yet-lasting linens with appropriate initials were found for $1 each on an antiquer's booth table at Brimfield (www.brimfield.com), and can peak out of a jacket pocket or wait in another pocket to be deployed should a teary citizen present themselves on a neighboring subway seat.





The underside of each shows a small reminder of the larger design perhaps for those with poor short-term memory.





And finally, some old and gallantly-served Jermyn Street-made shirts get one last hurrah in the wardrobe, this time as handkerchiefs.





Some brightly patterned silk from Chinatown awaits its rebirth:

Are You Being Served?

It's very likely that you're not.  Few are these days.

Some of the shows I watched as a 10 year old, I still love today.  Perhaps if we had more Magnum/Higgins and Capt. Peacock/Mr. Humphries on television, style would be a bit different.  As much as I try to avoid waxing nostalgic on the ol' blog, I can't resist certain elements.  Netflix has available the DVD's for Are You Being Served?, and they are as dry, lovable, and hilariously steady as I had remembered.  Of course, the show had its own spin-off, (Are You Being Served? Again!) which still contained the great core-shenanigans, double entendre, and predictable and awkward angles of the first, with more than a hint of the sad, salvaging desperation of a spin-off.  Despite the painfully accurate send-up of Anglo status-consciousness and the paranoia of class anxiety (including corporate hierarchy) the clothing was a bizarre time-capsule of an era that ended just as that show began.

Class-anxiety transcending friendship, and occasionally, vice-versa.

Frank Thornton's character, the perpetually fuss-veneered Capt. Peacock, wore the exact same assembly every day (including the stroller), and the flower was "purchased daily at [his] own expense".  However, when they left London to reside in the countryside, the cast shifted into various strata of country clothing.*  

Here, Capt. Peacock's "country suit" is fantastic, and still more formal than the majority of city suits seen today in the US.

When the entire floor was required to participate in ballet to foster health and fitness, the ever status-anxious Capt. Peacock showed up in black tights, a rugby shirt (thankfully untucked) and an ascot, shooing all but his superior from his warm-up bar which was "reserved for management only".

I  always enjoyed the original (including the early black and white), and noted even then how Mr. Humphries would pin his tie under his vests/waistcoats to lift it, creating a subtle convex display.  While some of the wardrobe cuts are outdated, the overall mode is as permanent as can be, and the show represents the end of an era (both good and bad), serving as a snapshot for the (possibly last) moments that Anglo and American culture teetered on a coal-fired, leather-soled, presentation-at-all-costs era. 

*To avoid a larger post, the "city vs. country" rule for clothing is largely irrelevant in the States, considering that a country Prince Of Wales Check suit with a blue shirt, spotted or noun tie, and brown shoes will still leave the wearer more formal than nearly all of those in most US cities.

New Years Emails

Dear Sir,
We hosted a party in our first apartment together for new years eve. We were roommates in college and wanted to throw something nice and have a good time with other friends and even people from work, we were pretty open about the invitation and welcomed anybody. A very handsome dressed guy -grad student- had a silk pocket square, tie, and a heavy charcoal color wool suit that looked great and I think he was a friend of a friend. We served wine and mix drinks and beer. 

[Photos were attached here, and very charming descriptions of what a lot of the men were wearing]

It was a really great party and the most fun NYE!

[After more descriptions, the final paragraph]

The guy in the really nice suit said that he only drinks micro-brews or scotch and did we have any.  We were both sorry to say no that we didnt. We had [Bud and Bud Lite] which everyone liked. We realized that we should set up a small bar for future parties and wanted to know what we should by for well dressed gentlemen.


Addie and Sarah,
Atlanta, GA



Dear Addie and Sarah,
You threw a perfectly elegant party.  Your first apartment looks charming, and judging by the photos, everybody was at ease and you were great hostesses.  As for the well-dressed young man there and his disdain for what you offered him, you should see that he is never invited back.  He is an ass.


Happy 2011 to you both!


P.S. I will have a post about setting up a bar for a party soon.

*********

Y-W-P,
Happy New Year! My older sister is getting married in April in Chapel Hill inside at night and I want to know if I should wear the blue suit or the gray suit? . I am single and she has tons of single girlfriends.
 [photos of each suit were attached along with a link to the venue]


C.
Raleigh, NC


Dear C.,
You should wear whatever suit will be the most comfortable for sitting, eating, dancing, and then draping over the shoulders of the young lady with whom you stroll outdoors for fresh evening air. The daffodils are likely to be poking through then in North Carolina, so be sure to pick one for her during your stroll, and offer her your arm. 

[...]

-Y-W-P

*********

What is Really Worn - Behind The Curtain's (Social) Fabric

Writer's Note: This post is largely in response to several emails I received containing angry and near-dogmatic understandings of the importance of dressing.  Most of these partially venomous screeds theorized correlation between tie and pocket square wearing to some non-existent ghost of "the Gentleman", with a naive impatience for those who conduct themselves differently.  While I love finding, buying, wearing, and thinking, talking, writing, and reading about more formal clothing, I do prefer to keep it in perspective.  The beauty of the human soul and spirit are quickly consumed when devoted to keeping one's outward self alight, leaving the eyes window to a spent and desolate core wrapped in a fussed-over presentation of grooming and bother.  

 ******

Catalogs, websites, blogs, commercials, and television would like us to think that worlds exist where the aesthetic is unblemished,  the mood is just so, and people dress to the most picturesque end of the spectrum as possible each moment of the day.  In reality, there are no set-designers to provide rich low lighting to walnut panels, no costume designers to bulldog clip the waist of the jacket to give it a drinking-straw taper, and no casting directors to ensure that the event will be filled with tall slender/chiseled models to provide the cocktail chit-chat which we imagine they are capable of.  If you watch television or go to the movies, you will be certain, CERTAIN, that the intelligence apparatus of each federal (or even state) agency is staffed by models who dress well and gaze analytically at state-of-the-art technology with desks and floors that are modern and back-lit.  In reality, desks, computers, filing cabinets and coat racks are all purchased from the near-lowest bidder on a commercial procurement, which until recently, had largely remained stagnant with Steelcase-type furnishings and fluorescent lighting.  Only recently have our federal agencies allowed themselves a much-needed and well-deserved sprucing up, with windows, carpeting, and  more human lighting, finally bidding farewell to the remaining 70's/80's furniture and style that certainly provided no dignity to its users. 

 

While the college experience is available to more people now than ever, the myth of the heavily tweeded and flanneled bow tie academic may be dying somewhat, and we no longer expect to see cardigans under herringbone jackets with patched elbows.  If you want to bring back these styles with academic halls, simply discontinue heating in classrooms and offices, and you'll likely see more heavy woolen suits, sweaters, and tightened ties. 

Other images that we tend to carry around are also inaccurate (though charming).

Country Clubs

Image: bright madras, white pants, straw hats, blazers of all colors, bow-ties, ascots, lobster-embroidered pants, and seersucker, hands holding dry Martinis.

Reality: non-descript golf shirts and plain pants, and when there's a dress code, more khakis/white shirt/navy blazer combinations than can be imagined, generally draped unflatteringly around aged stomachs.  Shoes are either loafers or a boat shoe, hands holding cheap beer or well-grade gin and tonics.

City Clubs

Image: Dark three-piece suits with club-collared shirts and striped tie, black-tie, spread-collar with spotted bow tie and flannel pants, ascots, heavy wool blazers with collar pins lifting four-in-hand knots, highly shined black cap-toes, argyle sweater vests and ties with small nouns on them.

Reality: Mostly what people wore to work that day, blazers, suits, occasional camel-hair jackets or tweeds, and often unremarkable ties.

Yacht Clubs

Image: Navy double-breasted blazers, white pants, Bengal striped shirts, yellow ascots, yachting caps (seriously), ribbon jackets, anchor patches on blazers, and bold primary colors, drinking rum or Champagne.

Reality: Gross sailing clothing for those recently afloat, sun-faded shorts and shirts, baseball caps, sunburn, ratty sweaters and sweatshirts, bucket hats for the oldsters or headwear with under-the-chin drawstrings, white-soled tennis shoes or Top Siders, khaki shorts, and jackets which seem too warm for summer but are appropriate away from land.  If it's an evening event, blazers, khakis, and ties, with very occasional yellow cotton sweater vest with boat shoes.  Watery American beers are favored, as most guests are already dehydrated from sailing, swimming, and summer sun.

There seems to be an (understandable) assumption that were a young man to enter one of these clubs or organizations as a guest or new member, that the existing membership would scrutinize and whisper details of the young man's wardrobe with one another.  It simply does not happen.  So long as the dress code is met, other members are more concerned with making sure you're not there to "network" and whether or not you are holding your liquor well.  That is not to say that each of these clubs don't have a few members who dress in handsome and noteworthy assemblies, but a yacht club is about cruising, racing, or teaching your kids to sail or swim, and not about wardrobe.


Where it may have gone wrong



Because most of these organizations are populated by middle-to-late-aged Baby Boomers who brought us the 1960's rejection of decades of formality, there is often little pleasure taken in dress code adherence.  Weddings and parties rented out to people unaffiliated with the clubs usually have better dressed guests that the club members themselves.  The same demographic that invented and implemented indulgences like "casual Fridays" has no interest in the formality of those who survived the Depression and the Second World War, and possibly resent it.  This voting block ushered in Country Club by-laws establishing "casual dining" and "grill room dining".  The sad result is that jackets and ties are left only for the "Main Dining Rooms" which once required reservations, but are now thinly populated and pleasantly without televisions above the bar.  A note-worthy feature of a restaurant these days requires pants in non-denim and with dress shoes, and a sleeve or jacket requirement places a restaurant at legitimate risk of bankruptcy.  Certainly most eateries should NOT have dress codes, but when a clothing standard is dangerously close to a business death-sentence, it points out that perhaps we have gone too far in one direction.  Considering too, how many actual cultural restrictions of conduct and custom we adhere to in restaurants, hostile resistance to clothing requirements seems infantile and overly precious.

For those in their 30's and 40's (roughly), childhood was still formal, shorts were not for church, dinner, restaurants, or birthday parties, and visiting the Statehouse on a field-trip was a solemn event for which one dressed respectfully in whatever they owned or could borrow.  This same demographic is now perplexed by the shift in parental formality, and while most embrace the the new relaxation from that which once ruled them, judging by the niche blogs I read, a small and dedicated array of younger men and boys have turned the tables on the new casual-dress attitude of their parents, often to the delight of grandparents who worked in suits their entire careers.  I hear it steadily in emails, including this quote from a 32 year old son of two university professor parents:




"My whole childhood was spent getting lectured about dressing right.  When we went to DC  we were dressed up even though we were young and just going to museums. My parents are both still teaching at [university] and [same university's medical school], but along with all of the faculty they always wear the minimally formal clothing with white sneakers to restaurants and the like.  Once [their demographic] got in charge it was regular wearing of what they used to call "play clothes" when I wore them with sneakers, jeans, teeshirts. I'm the only one in a tie during holidays and its by my own choice!"

Law and finance still dress well by culture, but don't expect healthcare to get out of their pajamas, preferring surgical "scrubs" regardless of whether or not they will be anywhere near the operating room.

There is a legitimate argument to be made for aesthetic value, but that is different from the idea of tradition and a false sense of propriety.  The trap into which many young men fall is becoming too vocal a jerk about it, jamming it down the throats of everyone within ear/eye shot.

Tread not dandily

There will always exist the risk of aesthetic nostalgia leading one towards costume or near-parody, and taking the time to choose and assemble ones daily clothing separates people only to the degree that hobbies, personal incomes, or music preferences are perceived to do... a shallow and pitifully thin common-thread with no correlation to personal quality, manner, or conduct.  I get disturbingly misguided emails occasionally from male readers in their 20's and 30's who I can only assume have alienated those around them by their costume approach to dressing, forcing attention towards themselves for their ascots and bowlers (you should see some of the photos I get), their cargo-pocketed mono-chrome kilts, or their long fur coats and canes (!).  Too much is often assumed by those dressing well, and when the magical "access" fails to materialize, the flood of "exclusive" invitations don't polish the mail slot, and the nasty social agenda isn't realized, they end up embittered and unpleasant with a nice wardrobe being their only feature.  

Removable Collars and Misplaced Nostalgia

On a trip to Dublin Ireland, I wandered into TM Lewin for a few shirts and possibly a tie or two.  As I dug and poked about the store, I came across these two shirts in my exact size.

Removable collars?  Each shirt came with their own matching one, but the salesman also helped me to a few plain white collars in different shapes at very low prices.  They thankfully had the collar studs on hand, and I left the store anxious to try on the new shirts.

The assembly and attachments are as easy as they seem, with a post to anchor it astern, and a long post to join four layers of fabric at your throat-front.

The white collars looked great as well, and attached with the same ease.

Back in Boston, I was strolling along one of the city's architecturally particular streets where I saw a "CLOSING by Month's End" sign at a favorite antiques dealer.  In the back of the shop I found a pig-leather case sitting quietly on the top of a dresser, and I thankfully went in for a closer look.

A single snap to close it, and a buckled loop on the back.

A collar case... and full of old collars... still stiffened, and yellowed with age, wadded with an equally ancient tissue paper.

The printing on the insides of the collars are quite charming: "Brooks Brothers", "Prom", and a few names of long-extinct clothiers.

The collars were in several shapes, and in varying degrees of discolor, though all were still as sturdy as wooden planks.

A sleeve for the studs had a short-post already in it and of a predictably pleasant patina.

I added my bow and stern posts to the sleeves, and they seemed right at home.

I rolled my collars together and tried them out... success.

Awfully charming, needlessly nostalgic, and archaically specific.  It got me thinking about things of this sort, and some of the misplaced nostalgia that is easy to conjure. 

When I bought the removable collared shirts, I was really into the idea of so "retro" a shirt concept.  It seemed so formal and quaint at the same time, but then the reality of their use kicked in.  They are FAR less comfortable that sewn collars, and like a bow tie, loosening them cannot be accomplished with any sort of elegance... they are on or off.  This effectively rules out summer use.  The tie hides the hardware, and even with a contrasting collar color (white), they still only look like nice shirts, as the novelty-portion is hidden away.  The truth is that they are not particularly comfortable, must be worn in full form with tie in position, and require the keeping track of additional pieces of hardware.  It was easy to be nostalgic (almost smug) about how kooky and cool the shirts were, but it would be misplaced.  Laundry machines have made these approaches and efficiencies irrelevant, and these shirts are the antique cars of the shirt world... they'll still do the trick stylishly, but not comfortably.

Similar to suggestions that men should wear hats whenever they venture out, or the modern use of a cane for "style" (unjustified by a physical limitation), clothing minded young men can get too caught up in the nostalgia that seems to originate from watching too many old movies. Like monocles and spats, somethings are better left to costume. 

Watches

Maybe the staggering volume of email spam offering "CHEAP IMITATION ROLEX" (or similar catch-lines) has caused a few people to wonder about spending money on watches. The following are portions of emails I received asking about watches:

"Can you please tell me what to look for in a watch?"
"I am considering investing in a nice watch. What should I look for?"
"What is the best watch to wear when formally dressed?"

If you are interested in spending a few-to-several thousand dollars on a watch, I suggest that you put little-to-no stock in what some writer of a blog has to say about it.

So long as the watch isn't ugly or flash to the point of distraction, the three qualities it should have are:

(1) keeps accurate time
(2) won't fall off easily
(3) if you lose it, you will be able to get over it

I have several friends with very pricey watches and very fast cars - two devices that should facilitate a prompt arrival - yet they are unable to meet me anywhere close to the agreed upon time. For the most part, the watch hides under the cuff, and if you're in a social setting it's best not to check it in view of others ("I'm sorry, do you have someplace better to be? Is my anecdote about Margaret Thatcher boring you?"*). Without fully fleshing out the possibilities in a longer and far more tedious discussion, my advice is try harder to be on time, and not really worry about buying the "right" watch.

Merry Christmas, all.
-Yankee-Whisky-Papa



*Yes. It is boring. After she quipped smugly, you had a well-phrased response. We've heard. At least a dozen times. But your wife told us that this was when [The Rt Hon. The Baroness] Thatcher [LG, OM, PC] was Education Secretary, and that you later apologized to her lead aid.