I return to the drape style with recognisable regularity. For those without a big chest – and not that bothered about big, wide shoulders – it is a very flattering shape. Many also forget how slim it is usually cut through the waist, enhancing the contrast with the chest.

But I wasn’t going to talk about drape. I was going to use this excuse of a fitting with Steven Hitchcock on a new jacket – in a beautiful grey from the W Bill Lamlana bunch, which mixes lambswool and angora – to talk about the customer’s interaction with his tailor. 
  

  
Men that are new to bespoke are often thrown by the number of options: width of trouser, length of sleeve, number of buttons. Unfortunately, some react by trying to learn about every single aspect of the suit, and then dictate to the tailor. 

This is rarely a good idea. Almost every man I know that has suits from multiple tailors ends up coming to the same conclusion: just let the tailor cut their style. 

Don’t get an English tailor to cut a Neapolitan jacket. Distrust any tailor that says they can cut in every style. And don’t start moving around buttoning points, lapel rolls and pockets. 

I’ve made all these mistakes in the past – the English/Neapolitan one, the tailor in any style one, removing structure from a structured jacket, removing drape from a draped jacket, perhaps worst of all trying to make a traditional jacket ‘younger’. 

Just because there are so many variables in bespoke, it doesn’t mean you should change them. You may get 8 out of 10 right, but not 10. The Florentine tailor, on the other hand, would have cut a perfect Florentine jacket. 
  

   
This same lesson goes for behaviour in a fitting room. For a start, leave the basted fitting to the tailor; it’s about balance, not style; just stand there and answer if asked. Then, at the forward fitting, only consider the options that are obviously questions of personal taste. The obvious ones are sleeve length, trouser length and perhaps trouser width. 

Some bespoke customers seem to be under the bizarre impression that tailors are trying to deceive them. That if they don’t come in armed with requirements for every aspect of the suit, the tailor will screw them over. 

They won’t. The tailor will simply cut to his style and taste. And if you don’t like his style and taste, you shouldn’t be using this tailor. 

Others seem to be under the impression that they know more than their tailor. You may know more about international styles, but you don’t know more about how to cut his style that he does. And again, if you know more than your tailor, you shouldn’t be using him.*

I mention all this, of course, because it occurred to me how few choices I made with this jacket from Steven. We have made a jacket before of course, so that helps. But all I really had to do was select cloth and buttons, the number of breasts and buttons, and confirm Steven’s assumptions about my sleeve length. 

Steven cuts a damn good jacket. I know his style and I came to him because I like his style. That’s it. 

It’s also nice to see Steven and Celia settling into the premises on George Street. As soon as you walk in you can see them working away at the back, with Steven often preparing his own bastes (as he usually prefers to do). There are other tailors in the building, of course, but the downstairs area feels like Steven’s pad, and it suits him to have one.
  

  
Steven is, by the way, in the US in a couple of weeks, and will be in Boston for the first time. Do give him a warm welcome. 

Details: 

• New York: Sunday 4th to Tuesday 6th October (until noon), The Benjamin Hotel
• Boston: Wednesday 7th to Thursday 8th October, The Eliot Hotel
• Contact +0207 287 2492 and steven@stevenhitchcock.co.uk 

*The only possible exception is a very limited access to tailors, which means you’re stuck with him. 

Photos: Jack Lawson

If you’re looking for a good bespoke suit in London, there aren’t many English options between £1000 and £3000 or so. Most are closer to the £1000 make and finish, but simply charge twice as much.

An interesting option is to have the bespoke cut and finish, but with some parts of the work done abroad. Having one or two of the fittings done in China or India makes a huge difference to the cost, even with the distances the suit will travel.

Kilgour tried this several years ago, but suffered rather from the PR of making in China. That was a shame, because the results were good. Recently a few others have started using a single workshop in China, which also seems to be going well.

I will be trying out some of these over the next few months, as I hope they could offer a good option for someone trying to step up to high-end bespoke, but afraid of the tripling in price. For clarity and consistency, I will refer to this service as ‘foreign bespoke’.

In this post we will be looking at Whitcomb & Shaftesbury. Despite the name, W&S is run by two Indian brothers, Suresh (above) and Mahesh Ramakrishnan. They have a nice room on the top of 11 St George St (the same building as Steven Hitchcock, on the ground floor).

Their cutter is John McCabe (pictured top), who has been cutting around Savile Row for 40 years – at J. Dege & Sons and at Kilgour from 1993 to 2010.

Suresh manages most of the operations in London, and is effectively front of house. Importantly, he offers two services – both with John cutting, but one where the suit is entirely made in London with standard tailors, and the other where most is made in the brothers’ workshop in India.

In my experience this is important because over time it brings the two offerings closer together. The same cutting is going into each, and you expect the same coat-making to come back. At every stage, John is comparing the work of both local and foreign makers and bringing them to the same standard.

The two offerings are referred to as Savile Row Bespoke and Classic Bespoke, and cost £3040 and £1360 respectively (both exclusive of VAT). It’s quite a cost saving; and given that I’ve always said the fit is the most important thing, it makes the latter a great introductory option.

I try to be cold and objective about these things, but it might also matter that Suresh and Mahesh’s workshop was set up in the wake of the 2004 tsunami, in order to offer training and work to fishermen that had lost their livelihoods. Since 2009, it has turned to helping abused and deprived women. Around 300 people have been trained in that time, of which 70 work there today.

From what I’ve seen so far, the craftsmanship is on the same level as London. Indeed, the women in India are often able to take on things that some coatmakers would not, such as lapped seams and embroidery.

One jacket (below) features two strips of leather embedded down the front of a jacket. It’s not really my taste, and the work wasn’t perfect, but that kind of range enables Suresh to offer unusual details and very low prices.

I was going to have one suit made in the Classic Bespoke, but Suresh offered to make me the Savile Row level as well, in order to compare the workmanship in each. It will be interesting to see how they turn out.

 
My apologies to Philip, who wrote recently that he’s been waiting for my review of this Camps de Luca suit. And to anyone else. 

The suit was completed a few months ago and we managed to take some photographs last month. But books, polos and events have conspired to get in the way since then.

This, then, my 13oz grey worsted single-breasted suit from Camps de Luca, Paris.

For anyone that’s not familiar with the French tailors, Camps shares many of the attributes of fellow Parisians Cifonelli and Smalto: lightweight canvas and shoulder padding; clean chest (cut close, no drape); pronounced shoulder roping; and absolutely superb finishing. 
  

  
Camps is also known for its fish-mouth lapels. As you can see in the top image, the lapel is angled up slightly after it meets the collar, closing off that space and creating quite a strong horizontal line.

After the shoulders, this meeting of collar and lapel (the gorge) is one of the most important aspects in the style of a suit, and makes a distinct impact. So what do I think of it on my first Camps suit? I like the way it adds subtle personality, without resorting to the silliness of multi-angled pockets or horizontal stripes. But it also hasn’t won me over; I’m not about to ask any other tailor to cut my lapel in a similar way. 
  

  
Looking at those shoulders, it is interesting how far around the sleevehead Camps puts it wadding to rope the shoulder. Most only put in roping at the top, creating that focal point at the end of the shoulder that gives width to the physique. 

But Camps continues the roping further round, front and back, emphasising the work and leading to an impression of the shoulder almost being separated from the rest of the jacket. 
  

  
Elsewhere on the style, the jacket is a touch shorter than I would normally have in a suit, and the foreparts (the jacket below the fastened waist button) are relatively open. I like the style of the latter, but may have altered the former. (As with most commissions, I start by asking the tailor to cut their house style, with minimal changes from me.)

Another distinctive aspect of a Camps suit is the folding of the cloth inside the vents. The normally hard line of the side vent is softened by having both sides butting up against each other. I like this principally because it prevents any chance of the seat being exposed when you put your hands in your pockets (which I do a lot). 

On that point, there are several making aspects of the suit that I found fascinating – and hadn’t realised before. For example, the pocket bag in the trouser is attached to the fly on the inside. This stops the pocket bagging out too much, as it is constrained by that attachment to the fly. It is no less comfortable to use, but means the pocket keeps its shape. 

It is also striking that the front of the trouser is perfectly flat and smooth – yet the fastening is one of the simplest you will find. There are merely two fastening points on the waistband, one on the left and one on the right. It rather undermines the point of complicated fastenings used by the Neapolitans (and Cifonelli). 

I’ll post some pictures of these making aspects in a separate post, which will make them easier to illustrate and explain. 
  

  
As we would expect, the finishing on the suit is first class. The cloth runs all the way around each in-breast pocket, with the lining being hand-sewn down first, then top stitched for decoration. The lapel buttonhole is a small but absolutely perfect Milanese.

And we have the distinctive tear-shaped pocket on the inside hip of the jacket (shown above) with the Camps de Luca name above it. Although the initials under the cuff, which again is a house trade mark, aren’t quite as fine as the work elsewhere.

Those in-breast pockets, by the way, are noticeably high and angled. Only Anderson & Sheppard does them quite as high, and I do like it. Wallets and phones remain in the chest area, and don’t encroach at all on the closely fitting waist. That’s one thing I would certainly ask every other tailor to replicate. 
  

Worn with a burgundy silk tie from Loro Piana, with small and refreshingly widely spaced motifs in white and blue. Deep red works with a mid-grey like this better than any other colour of suit. 

Handkerchief from Drake’s. The matte texture of the wool is of course a nice balance to the silk of the tie, and green is a classic colour to pair with red in such accessories, given they are complimentary colours. 

Previous posts in this series, with other details on Camps and their work, can be found here:

• Introduction to Camps
• Commissioning of my first suit
• Second fitting (of four) on the suit

Photography by Jamie Fergusson @jkf_man
  

  
Apparently people are becoming more casual. There are now such things as luxury jogging bottoms.

But I’ll put my money on the fact that – even as the fashion wheel turns – the suit will remain the formal attire of choice. There are just no other contenders. 

For those that understand – hopefully, those that read this blog – there are also grades of formality to the suit. At one end of the spectrum are Neapolitan linens. In the middle are Milanese and drape cuts. And at the other end are super-sharp English suits like this, from Edward Sexton.

When do you wear the different things on that spectrum? It is a consideration of people and place.

In the office most days, I wear a Neapolitan jacket and trousers. But when I’m on show, it’s more than often a suit. And when I really want to feel put together, it’s a structured, roped piece of double-breasted flannel.
  

  
Here, I was on TV. Being interviewed by a German television station about my latest book Best of British: The Stories Behind Britain’s Iconic Brands.    

I’m on display. I am representing myself and even British menswear – with all its history, craft and tradition – for this German audience. 

Clothing for people and for place. 

So a double-breasted grey flannel suit, with Edward’s broad lapels and fantastic roped shoulders, his long legs and slim sleeves.

White shirt (most formal colour) with double cuffs (most formal style). Muted grey/green tie. White linen hank.

And beautiful GJ Cleverley bespoke city shoes. With their thin uppers, thin sole and waist that disappears under the foot. Lending delicacy to the tread.

Dressing up makes you feel good. It makes you feel pointed, ready, prepared. Which is exactly what you need when someone puts a camera in your face.
  

   
I recently had the basted fitting for my two suits from Whitcomb & Shaftesbury – the tailor that runs a workshop in India but has all the suits cut by the same person London. 

They had offered to make me two suits – one put together in Chennai and one in Savile Row – in order to be able to compare them. There is a big price difference: £1360 for the former and £3040 for the latter (ex-VAT).

Of course, as soon as you know there are differences, you seek them out. You notice that the waistband of the trousers on the Indian suit is just canvas at the baste, where the London one has cloth over the top. It makes no difference at all to the final suit, but you focus on the differences rather than the similarities.
  

  
And there were a lot of similarities – pretty much everything was the same. The same hand-padding of the chest, the same canvas and horsehair, the same hand-sewn buttonholes.

This is no coincidence, as Whitcomb & Shaftesbury’s coatmaker – Bob Bigg – has been going back and forth to India for years, slowly training the local women to sew in the same way he does.

“The biggest challenge was consistency and clean finishing,” he told me over dinner that evening (with owner Suresh and cutter John McCabe, pictured here). “Their hand-speed was excellent, but they weren’t used to having to sew with such precision. It had been more about volume, in the absence of any machinery.”
  

  
Bob, who has been a coatmaker on and around Savile Row for decades, wasn’t sure he’d like India to start with, but has slowly taken to it.

“I just had to get used to the heat – and then the food,” he recalled. “A lot of the locals found it surprising how I’d wear my jacket all the time, even when it was scorching hot, but I always find it cooler.”

A lot of Bob’s stories echoed things tailors have been telling me for years – in the UK, Italy or anywhere. How the hand holding the cloth is more important than the one sewing, as it sets up the cloth and maintains the tension. How it’s always surprising how many ways there are to do the same thing, and usually one is no better than the other, just easier.

It’s the same challenges, whether you’re training an ex-fisherman in Chennai or a graduate in London.

It’s still early days for the two suit, but signs are good that the Indian suit in particular (Whitcomb & Shaftesbury called it Classic Bespoke) will be a great value option for anyone looking to try bespoke for the first time.

Photography: Jack Lawson

More on Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, such as John’s background at Kilgour, in the first post here
  

  
*London trunk show details:
February 18-20
info@sartoriadalcuore.com
+393458404232
32 Royal Crescent, London W11, UK*

It’s been interesting to watch in recent years how more and more small tailors have come to prominence, getting coverage and an international reputation with remarkable speed. Everyone loves a new name, and social media spread it faster than ever.

Of course, bespoke tailoring is a long game. It has awful margins, requires large fixed costs, and these days involves a lot of travelling. The reward, if there is one, is in the long term. The stability of a loyal clientele with a large disposable income; the ability to pass that clientele onto the next generation.

I really hope, then, that being the latest ‘internet sensation’ does not prove to be more of a curse than a blessing for anyone. That any of those sensations flare up and fade away, perhaps even damaging some of the reputation of bespoke along the way.
  

  
Sartoria Dalcuore is one of those recent growth stories. Although they’ve been working with people like George Wang at Brio for a few years (on both RTW and bespoke), the team has only recently begun travelling, seeking out the big markets in London and New York.

Dalcuore, like many Italian tailors, was founded after World War II – in this case a little later than some, in 1966. Luigi (Gigi, pictured top) was an apprentice at Del Duca, as well as working at his aunt’s dressmakers. 

Gigi founded his own shop at the age of 26. That could be reassuring to any new cutter deciding to start out on his own, until you realise he started apprenticing at 16. Ten years is still really the absolute minimum of training and experience.
  

  
I took the opportunity to try out Dalcuore during their first trip to London back in December (they’re here again from the 18th of February, and in New York from the 24th). We then had a fitting in Florence during Pitti (pictured here).

The signs were good. The trousers were too tight around the seat and a little short, but the jacket was very good for a first fitting, and the pitch of the sleeve absolutely spot on.
  

  
The cloth helped – a high-twist summer cloth from Holland & Sherry in dark brown. I’ve wanted a summer suit in this shade for a while, and it will look amazing with a white shirt, monochrome tie and polished black oxfords.

In terms of cost, Dalcuore sit between Solito and Caliendo – the other two Neapolitan tailors I regularly use. Their suits start at 3000, 2500 and 3500 euros respectively. On first sight, that looks like very good value. One tailor you hope will flare up and stay there.
  

  
Photography: Luke Carby. Pictured above: Damiano Annunziato

  
Back in October there was a lot of interest around my post on the bespoke service at Whitcomb & Shaftesbury. Their ‘classic bespoke’ service, which involves cutting the suit in London (by a very experienced Row cutter), and then having it largely made in India (in a workshop run by a Row tailor) promised fantastic value at £1350 + VAT for a suit.

I’m glad to say that this promise is fulfilled. I have received and worn the suit, and can highly recommend it. It is as good in cut as most other Savile Row suits, and almost as good in make.
  

  
Whitcomb actually offers two services – one partially made by this Indian workshop (wholly owned by them) and one by a normal Row tailor. I had suits made in both, in order to compare them.

I’ll post pictures of the second one later, but there are so few differences that it’s barely worth pointing them out. The chest, lapel and collar are still hand-padded; the buttonholes are finely hand-stitched; every other area of finishing you’d expect from Savile Row bespoke (eg hand-stitching the lining of the waistband) is there.
  

This shouldn’t really be surprising. The same cutter and coatmaker (John McCabe and Bob Bigg) managed the making of both. The only thing you’d be looking for is a difference in execution – and there are some tiny points there.

The finishing on the lining isn’t quite as neat – but as you can see on the images above, it’s still good. And the buttonholes have had a machine stitch on the back as a guide, before being finished by hand. This is something most tailors don’t do, but you do occasionally see it used on particularly soft or lightweight cloths.

There are also things the Indian workshop can do that you wouldn’t give to most Row tailors. Like the lap seam down the back of the jacket (an idea I shamelessly copied across from my Chittleborough & Morgan suit). And although some of these details weren’t perfect on the examples I saw in the Whitcomb & Shaftesbury workrooms, this lap seam was very nicely done.
  

  
The cut is lovely and lean, with the suppression of the waist accentuating the sharp style we were going for – single button, more open foreparts, unflapped pockets, plus that lap seam of course.

The shoulders are quite soft and natural, although the team can certainly do more roping if requested. Interestingly, there is also quite a lot of drape to the chest – something I like on my Anderson & Sheppard suits both for their comfort and impression of a bigger upper body.

Back in the day, Kilgour French and Stanbury cut with a good bit of drape. That’s where John worked until 2010, and it is still his style.

This is a proper Savile Row suit. It is made to the same standards, by people with the same training, with most of it (pattern, cutting, fitting, alteration) still done in London and the heavy-lifting done in India.
  

  
I can understand why some people don’t want a suit where any of it is made abroad. People even complain when they find out some of the work is being done just off Carnaby Street, rather than in a basement off Savile Row.

If those people want that product, they now know exactly what they need to pay for it – £3,050 (the price of the Savile Row Bespoke product) rather than £1,350 (the Classic Bespoke). Location makes no difference to me, but if you want it you can pay £1,700 for the privilege.

I’ll reflect more on the overall style of Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, and where it sits relative to other tailors I have tried, when I publish the pictures of the Savile Row Bespoke suit.

Cloth: Holland & Sherry, Classic Worsteds, 12/13oz

Worn with:

• Lime-green silk print tie, Drake’s
• Blue spread-collar shirt, D’Avino
• White linen handkerchief, Simonnot-Godard via Mes Chaussettes Rouges
• Deco whole-cut shoes, Gaziano & Girling
    

  
Images: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man

  
Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, the fabulously good value tailor I have written about recently, visit the US 5-6 times a year. 

They will be there next in a couple of weeks – in New York for three days and then Los Angeles for one. 

The details are:

• New York: 18, 19, 20 April. Plaza Athenee Hotel
• Los Angeles:  21 April. The Peninsula, Beverly Hills

Email karen@whitcombshaftesbury.com for appointments. Prices start at $2100 for a 2-piece suit under the Classic Bespoke process I have written about, and $250 for shirts (both ex-VAT). 

Classic Bespoke involves the suit being cut and finished by ex-Kilgour cutter John McCabe (pictured above) in London, but made by a team in India trained by Savile Row coatmaker Bob Bigg. Hence the value. 

Read my review of the resulting suit here. 

  
Earlier this year I started a bespoke summer suit with tailors Manning & Manning. They are a small operation comprising old Row cutter Bryan Manning (above) and his son, with the making outsourced to various coatmakers and trouser makers. 

Rather like other tailors covered recently, such as Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, I was interested whether Manning & Manning could provide an entry-level bespoke experience, given their low costs but experienced cutting. 
  

  
Bryan has an interesting background, having worked for many film and TV operations making period suits. He won an Emmy in 1985 for his work on the suits for ‘Wallenberg: A Hero’s Story’ starring Richard Chamberlain. 

Bryan came from a family of tailors, apprenticed at Kilgour French & Stanbury and became a trainee cutter there a few years later, in 1959. In 1970 he opened his first shop on his own, and had outfits on St Christopher’s Place, Savile Row and Maddox Street. 

In the early 1990s Bryan shifted to being a travelling tailor, and was joined by his son in 1997. He sees clients in the Holland & Sherry showrooms on Savile Row. 
  

  
In yet another twist on the standard Row model, Bryan offers two services: Semi-Bespoke and Full Bespoke. 

Both are cut by Bryan to a fully bespoke paper pattern, but the former has a fused chest piece and the latter a floating, hand-padded one.

Semi-Bespoke with a fused interlining costs £1000. It’s hard to recommend that, given that you can get a Graham Browne floating interlining for the same price. But the Full Bespoke costs only £1350 (both inclusive of VAT). 
  

  
For the commission, I went for a summer-weight wool – the Cape Horn bunch from Holland & Sherry. (Number 1323, 8.5 ounce.)

It’s a high-twist fabric, so like Fresco it can have a slightly open weave and wears cool in the heat. It is also pretty crease-resistant, making it good for travelling. Hard creases will need to be pressed out, but that’s the same with most high-twists. 

It isn’t as coarse as Fresco, which makes it nicer against the skin, although not as hard wearing (not much of a concern for me as it’s unlikely to be an everyday suit). 

I liked the colour as it is a muted tan, with a touch of olive. Not too classic and colonial, but definitely a summer suit.
  

  
The photographs here are of the second fitting. Bryan likes ready-made fitting jackets alongside measurememts, which some people sniff at but several high-end tailors (including Camps de Luca) also use.

He makes use of that system to go straight to a forward fitting, with no baste. This works well if fundamental things like balance are correct straight from the off, but involve more work if they are not. In my case, the front-to-back balance did need some alteration. 

The second fitting was good. Just a few minor things to clear up here and it should be ready.  

Bryan’s style is solidly English military, with a built-up shoulder, structured chest and longer jacket. (By comparison to the French and Italian tailors, rather than others around the Row). 

Photography: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man
  

  
Shirt: Luca Avitabile
Shoes: Bespoke, Stefano Bemer
Tie: Green cashmere, Howard’s 
  

  
A couple of years ago the Royal Academy asked Bryan to comment on Moroni’s well-known painting of a tailor. There are a few nice points in the video create, here:

  
Before the public part of Tailoring Symposium in June, we all gathered next to the pool at the Four Seasons to have a chat about tailoring and its future, with The Rake busily making a video of the event in the background. 

This was perhaps the most pleasant part of the day, with myself and Wei posing questions to these greats of bespoke tailoring – gathered together for the first time. As expected, everyone had similar stories to tell, about difficult customers, about the benefits and dangers of having a house style, and about new blood coming into the craft. 

  
Our two Italians, Antonio Liverano and Antonio Panico, didn’t speak enough English to interact directly with, say, John Hitchcock of Anderson & Sheppard, but with the kind aid of Tommaso Melani of Stefano Bemer, it became clear that the three of them were saying exactly the same thing about the rigidity of house styles. Just with different mannerisms and anecdotes. 

As I say, it’s what you’d expect – similar experiences, similar headaches – yet it was a pleasant surprise to see it play out before our eyes. 

I’m sure we’ll organise something similar next year. Here’s hoping it is equally as productive and as enjoyable. 

The event was kindly supported by Stefano Bemer and Vitale Barberis Canonico, with The Rake as official magazine. Check out Tom’s great article on the event in the current issue of The Rake.

Posts on the public part of the Symposium here, and analysis of the styles of the different tailors here.
 

  
I return to the drape style with recognisable regularity. For those without a big chest – and not that bothered about big, wide shoulders – it is a very flattering shape. Many also forget how slim it is usually cut through the waist, enhancing the contrast with the chest.

But I wasn’t going to talk about drape. I was going to use this excuse of a fitting with Steven Hitchcock on a new jacket – in a beautiful grey from the W Bill Lamlana bunch, which mixes lambswool and angora – to talk about the customer’s interaction with his tailor. 
  

  
Men that are new to bespoke are often thrown by the number of options: width of trouser, length of sleeve, number of buttons. Unfortunately, some react by trying to learn about every single aspect of the suit, and then dictate to the tailor. 

This is rarely a good idea. Almost every man I know that has suits from multiple tailors ends up coming to the same conclusion: just let the tailor cut their style. 

Don’t get an English tailor to cut a Neapolitan jacket. Distrust any tailor that says they can cut in every style. And don’t start moving around buttoning points, lapel rolls and pockets. 

I’ve made all these mistakes in the past – the English/Neapolitan one, the tailor in any style one, removing structure from a structured jacket, removing drape from a draped jacket, perhaps worst of all trying to make a traditional jacket ‘younger’. 

Just because there are so many variables in bespoke, it doesn’t mean you should change them. You may get 8 out of 10 right, but not 10. The Florentine tailor, on the other hand, would have cut a perfect Florentine jacket. 
  

   
This same lesson goes for behaviour in a fitting room. For a start, leave the basted fitting to the tailor; it’s about balance, not style; just stand there and answer if asked. Then, at the forward fitting, only consider the options that are obviously questions of personal taste. The obvious ones are sleeve length, trouser length and perhaps trouser width. 

Some bespoke customers seem to be under the bizarre impression that tailors are trying to deceive them. That if they don’t come in armed with requirements for every aspect of the suit, the tailor will screw them over. 

They won’t. The tailor will simply cut to his style and taste. And if you don’t like his style and taste, you shouldn’t be using this tailor. 

Others seem to be under the impression that they know more than their tailor. You may know more about international styles, but you don’t know more about how to cut his style that he does. And again, if you know more than your tailor, you shouldn’t be using him.*

I mention all this, of course, because it occurred to me how few choices I made with this jacket from Steven. We have made a jacket before of course, so that helps. But all I really had to do was select cloth and buttons, the number of breasts and buttons, and confirm Steven’s assumptions about my sleeve length. 

Steven cuts a damn good jacket. I know his style and I came to him because I like his style. That’s it. 

It’s also nice to see Steven and Celia settling into the premises on George Street. As soon as you walk in you can see them working away at the back, with Steven often preparing his own bastes (as he usually prefers to do). There are other tailors in the building, of course, but the downstairs area feels like Steven’s pad, and it suits him to have one.
  

  
Steven is, by the way, in the US in a couple of weeks, and will be in Boston for the first time. Do give him a warm welcome. 

Details: 

• New York: Sunday 4th to Tuesday 6th October (until noon), The Benjamin Hotel
• Boston: Wednesday 7th to Thursday 8th October, The Eliot Hotel
• Contact +0207 287 2492 and steven@stevenhitchcock.co.uk 

*The only possible exception is a very limited access to tailors, which means you’re stuck with him. 

Photos: Jack Lawson

If you’re looking for a good bespoke suit in London, there aren’t many English options between £1000 and £3000 or so. Most are closer to the £1000 make and finish, but simply charge twice as much.

An interesting option is to have the bespoke cut and finish, but with some parts of the work done abroad. Having one or two of the fittings done in China or India makes a huge difference to the cost, even with the distances the suit will travel.

Kilgour tried this several years ago, but suffered rather from the PR of making in China. That was a shame, because the results were good. Recently a few others have started using a single workshop in China, which also seems to be going well.

I will be trying out some of these over the next few months, as I hope they could offer a good option for someone trying to step up to high-end bespoke, but afraid of the tripling in price. For clarity and consistency, I will refer to this service as ‘foreign bespoke’.

In this post we will be looking at Whitcomb & Shaftesbury. Despite the name, W&S is run by two Indian brothers, Suresh (above) and Mahesh Ramakrishnan. They have a nice room on the top of 11 St George St (the same building as Steven Hitchcock, on the ground floor).

Their cutter is John McCabe (pictured top), who has been cutting around Savile Row for 40 years – at J. Dege & Sons and at Kilgour from 1993 to 2010.

Suresh manages most of the operations in London, and is effectively front of house. Importantly, he offers two services – both with John cutting, but one where the suit is entirely made in London with standard tailors, and the other where most is made in the brothers’ workshop in India.

In my experience this is important because over time it brings the two offerings closer together. The same cutting is going into each, and you expect the same coat-making to come back. At every stage, John is comparing the work of both local and foreign makers and bringing them to the same standard.

The two offerings are referred to as Savile Row Bespoke and Classic Bespoke, and cost £3040 and £1360 respectively (both exclusive of VAT). It’s quite a cost saving; and given that I’ve always said the fit is the most important thing, it makes the latter a great introductory option.

I try to be cold and objective about these things, but it might also matter that Suresh and Mahesh’s workshop was set up in the wake of the 2004 tsunami, in order to offer training and work to fishermen that had lost their livelihoods. Since 2009, it has turned to helping abused and deprived women. Around 300 people have been trained in that time, of which 70 work there today.

From what I’ve seen so far, the craftsmanship is on the same level as London. Indeed, the women in India are often able to take on things that some coatmakers would not, such as lapped seams and embroidery.

One jacket (below) features two strips of leather embedded down the front of a jacket. It’s not really my taste, and the work wasn’t perfect, but that kind of range enables Suresh to offer unusual details and very low prices.

I was going to have one suit made in the Classic Bespoke, but Suresh offered to make me the Savile Row level as well, in order to compare the workmanship in each. It will be interesting to see how they turn out.

 
My apologies to Philip, who wrote recently that he’s been waiting for my review of this Camps de Luca suit. And to anyone else. 

The suit was completed a few months ago and we managed to take some photographs last month. But books, polos and events have conspired to get in the way since then.

This, then, my 13oz grey worsted single-breasted suit from Camps de Luca, Paris.

For anyone that’s not familiar with the French tailors, Camps shares many of the attributes of fellow Parisians Cifonelli and Smalto: lightweight canvas and shoulder padding; clean chest (cut close, no drape); pronounced shoulder roping; and absolutely superb finishing. 
  

  
Camps is also known for its fish-mouth lapels. As you can see in the top image, the lapel is angled up slightly after it meets the collar, closing off that space and creating quite a strong horizontal line.

After the shoulders, this meeting of collar and lapel (the gorge) is one of the most important aspects in the style of a suit, and makes a distinct impact. So what do I think of it on my first Camps suit? I like the way it adds subtle personality, without resorting to the silliness of multi-angled pockets or horizontal stripes. But it also hasn’t won me over; I’m not about to ask any other tailor to cut my lapel in a similar way. 
  

  
Looking at those shoulders, it is interesting how far around the sleevehead Camps puts it wadding to rope the shoulder. Most only put in roping at the top, creating that focal point at the end of the shoulder that gives width to the physique. 

But Camps continues the roping further round, front and back, emphasising the work and leading to an impression of the shoulder almost being separated from the rest of the jacket. 
  

  
Elsewhere on the style, the jacket is a touch shorter than I would normally have in a suit, and the foreparts (the jacket below the fastened waist button) are relatively open. I like the style of the latter, but may have altered the former. (As with most commissions, I start by asking the tailor to cut their house style, with minimal changes from me.)

Another distinctive aspect of a Camps suit is the folding of the cloth inside the vents. The normally hard line of the side vent is softened by having both sides butting up against each other. I like this principally because it prevents any chance of the seat being exposed when you put your hands in your pockets (which I do a lot). 

On that point, there are several making aspects of the suit that I found fascinating – and hadn’t realised before. For example, the pocket bag in the trouser is attached to the fly on the inside. This stops the pocket bagging out too much, as it is constrained by that attachment to the fly. It is no less comfortable to use, but means the pocket keeps its shape. 

It is also striking that the front of the trouser is perfectly flat and smooth – yet the fastening is one of the simplest you will find. There are merely two fastening points on the waistband, one on the left and one on the right. It rather undermines the point of complicated fastenings used by the Neapolitans (and Cifonelli). 

I’ll post some pictures of these making aspects in a separate post, which will make them easier to illustrate and explain. 
  

  
As we would expect, the finishing on the suit is first class. The cloth runs all the way around each in-breast pocket, with the lining being hand-sewn down first, then top stitched for decoration. The lapel buttonhole is a small but absolutely perfect Milanese.

And we have the distinctive tear-shaped pocket on the inside hip of the jacket (shown above) with the Camps de Luca name above it. Although the initials under the cuff, which again is a house trade mark, aren’t quite as fine as the work elsewhere.

Those in-breast pockets, by the way, are noticeably high and angled. Only Anderson & Sheppard does them quite as high, and I do like it. Wallets and phones remain in the chest area, and don’t encroach at all on the closely fitting waist. That’s one thing I would certainly ask every other tailor to replicate. 
  

Worn with a burgundy silk tie from Loro Piana, with small and refreshingly widely spaced motifs in white and blue. Deep red works with a mid-grey like this better than any other colour of suit. 

Handkerchief from Drake’s. The matte texture of the wool is of course a nice balance to the silk of the tie, and green is a classic colour to pair with red in such accessories, given they are complimentary colours. 

Previous posts in this series, with other details on Camps and their work, can be found here:

• Introduction to Camps
• Commissioning of my first suit
• Second fitting (of four) on the suit

Photography by Jamie Fergusson @jkf_man
  

  
Apparently people are becoming more casual. There are now such things as luxury jogging bottoms.

But I’ll put my money on the fact that – even as the fashion wheel turns – the suit will remain the formal attire of choice. There are just no other contenders. 

For those that understand – hopefully, those that read this blog – there are also grades of formality to the suit. At one end of the spectrum are Neapolitan linens. In the middle are Milanese and drape cuts. And at the other end are super-sharp English suits like this, from Edward Sexton.

When do you wear the different things on that spectrum? It is a consideration of people and place.

In the office most days, I wear a Neapolitan jacket and trousers. But when I’m on show, it’s more than often a suit. And when I really want to feel put together, it’s a structured, roped piece of double-breasted flannel.
  

  
Here, I was on TV. Being interviewed by a German television station about my latest book Best of British: The Stories Behind Britain’s Iconic Brands.    

I’m on display. I am representing myself and even British menswear – with all its history, craft and tradition – for this German audience. 

Clothing for people and for place. 

So a double-breasted grey flannel suit, with Edward’s broad lapels and fantastic roped shoulders, his long legs and slim sleeves.

White shirt (most formal colour) with double cuffs (most formal style). Muted grey/green tie. White linen hank.

And beautiful GJ Cleverley bespoke city shoes. With their thin uppers, thin sole and waist that disappears under the foot. Lending delicacy to the tread.

Dressing up makes you feel good. It makes you feel pointed, ready, prepared. Which is exactly what you need when someone puts a camera in your face.
  

   
I recently had the basted fitting for my two suits from Whitcomb & Shaftesbury – the tailor that runs a workshop in India but has all the suits cut by the same person London. 

They had offered to make me two suits – one put together in Chennai and one in Savile Row – in order to be able to compare them. There is a big price difference: £1360 for the former and £3040 for the latter (ex-VAT).

Of course, as soon as you know there are differences, you seek them out. You notice that the waistband of the trousers on the Indian suit is just canvas at the baste, where the London one has cloth over the top. It makes no difference at all to the final suit, but you focus on the differences rather than the similarities.
  

  
And there were a lot of similarities – pretty much everything was the same. The same hand-padding of the chest, the same canvas and horsehair, the same hand-sewn buttonholes.

This is no coincidence, as Whitcomb & Shaftesbury’s coatmaker – Bob Bigg – has been going back and forth to India for years, slowly training the local women to sew in the same way he does.

“The biggest challenge was consistency and clean finishing,” he told me over dinner that evening (with owner Suresh and cutter John McCabe, pictured here). “Their hand-speed was excellent, but they weren’t used to having to sew with such precision. It had been more about volume, in the absence of any machinery.”
  

  
Bob, who has been a coatmaker on and around Savile Row for decades, wasn’t sure he’d like India to start with, but has slowly taken to it.

“I just had to get used to the heat – and then the food,” he recalled. “A lot of the locals found it surprising how I’d wear my jacket all the time, even when it was scorching hot, but I always find it cooler.”

A lot of Bob’s stories echoed things tailors have been telling me for years – in the UK, Italy or anywhere. How the hand holding the cloth is more important than the one sewing, as it sets up the cloth and maintains the tension. How it’s always surprising how many ways there are to do the same thing, and usually one is no better than the other, just easier.

It’s the same challenges, whether you’re training an ex-fisherman in Chennai or a graduate in London.

It’s still early days for the two suit, but signs are good that the Indian suit in particular (Whitcomb & Shaftesbury called it Classic Bespoke) will be a great value option for anyone looking to try bespoke for the first time.

Photography: Jack Lawson

More on Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, such as John’s background at Kilgour, in the first post here
  

  
*London trunk show details:
February 18-20
info@sartoriadalcuore.com
+393458404232
32 Royal Crescent, London W11, UK*

It’s been interesting to watch in recent years how more and more small tailors have come to prominence, getting coverage and an international reputation with remarkable speed. Everyone loves a new name, and social media spread it faster than ever.

Of course, bespoke tailoring is a long game. It has awful margins, requires large fixed costs, and these days involves a lot of travelling. The reward, if there is one, is in the long term. The stability of a loyal clientele with a large disposable income; the ability to pass that clientele onto the next generation.

I really hope, then, that being the latest ‘internet sensation’ does not prove to be more of a curse than a blessing for anyone. That any of those sensations flare up and fade away, perhaps even damaging some of the reputation of bespoke along the way.
  

  
Sartoria Dalcuore is one of those recent growth stories. Although they’ve been working with people like George Wang at Brio for a few years (on both RTW and bespoke), the team has only recently begun travelling, seeking out the big markets in London and New York.

Dalcuore, like many Italian tailors, was founded after World War II – in this case a little later than some, in 1966. Luigi (Gigi, pictured top) was an apprentice at Del Duca, as well as working at his aunt’s dressmakers. 

Gigi founded his own shop at the age of 26. That could be reassuring to any new cutter deciding to start out on his own, until you realise he started apprenticing at 16. Ten years is still really the absolute minimum of training and experience.
  

  
I took the opportunity to try out Dalcuore during their first trip to London back in December (they’re here again from the 18th of February, and in New York from the 24th). We then had a fitting in Florence during Pitti (pictured here).

The signs were good. The trousers were too tight around the seat and a little short, but the jacket was very good for a first fitting, and the pitch of the sleeve absolutely spot on.
  

  
The cloth helped – a high-twist summer cloth from Holland & Sherry in dark brown. I’ve wanted a summer suit in this shade for a while, and it will look amazing with a white shirt, monochrome tie and polished black oxfords.

In terms of cost, Dalcuore sit between Solito and Caliendo – the other two Neapolitan tailors I regularly use. Their suits start at 3000, 2500 and 3500 euros respectively. On first sight, that looks like very good value. One tailor you hope will flare up and stay there.
  

  
Photography: Luke Carby. Pictured above: Damiano Annunziato

  
Back in October there was a lot of interest around my post on the bespoke service at Whitcomb & Shaftesbury. Their ‘classic bespoke’ service, which involves cutting the suit in London (by a very experienced Row cutter), and then having it largely made in India (in a workshop run by a Row tailor) promised fantastic value at £1350 + VAT for a suit.

I’m glad to say that this promise is fulfilled. I have received and worn the suit, and can highly recommend it. It is as good in cut as most other Savile Row suits, and almost as good in make.
  

  
Whitcomb actually offers two services – one partially made by this Indian workshop (wholly owned by them) and one by a normal Row tailor. I had suits made in both, in order to compare them.

I’ll post pictures of the second one later, but there are so few differences that it’s barely worth pointing them out. The chest, lapel and collar are still hand-padded; the buttonholes are finely hand-stitched; every other area of finishing you’d expect from Savile Row bespoke (eg hand-stitching the lining of the waistband) is there.
  

This shouldn’t really be surprising. The same cutter and coatmaker (John McCabe and Bob Bigg) managed the making of both. The only thing you’d be looking for is a difference in execution – and there are some tiny points there.

The finishing on the lining isn’t quite as neat – but as you can see on the images above, it’s still good. And the buttonholes have had a machine stitch on the back as a guide, before being finished by hand. This is something most tailors don’t do, but you do occasionally see it used on particularly soft or lightweight cloths.

There are also things the Indian workshop can do that you wouldn’t give to most Row tailors. Like the lap seam down the back of the jacket (an idea I shamelessly copied across from my Chittleborough & Morgan suit). And although some of these details weren’t perfect on the examples I saw in the Whitcomb & Shaftesbury workrooms, this lap seam was very nicely done.
  

  
The cut is lovely and lean, with the suppression of the waist accentuating the sharp style we were going for – single button, more open foreparts, unflapped pockets, plus that lap seam of course.

The shoulders are quite soft and natural, although the team can certainly do more roping if requested. Interestingly, there is also quite a lot of drape to the chest – something I like on my Anderson & Sheppard suits both for their comfort and impression of a bigger upper body.

Back in the day, Kilgour French and Stanbury cut with a good bit of drape. That’s where John worked until 2010, and it is still his style.

This is a proper Savile Row suit. It is made to the same standards, by people with the same training, with most of it (pattern, cutting, fitting, alteration) still done in London and the heavy-lifting done in India.
  

  
I can understand why some people don’t want a suit where any of it is made abroad. People even complain when they find out some of the work is being done just off Carnaby Street, rather than in a basement off Savile Row.

If those people want that product, they now know exactly what they need to pay for it – £3,050 (the price of the Savile Row Bespoke product) rather than £1,350 (the Classic Bespoke). Location makes no difference to me, but if you want it you can pay £1,700 for the privilege.

I’ll reflect more on the overall style of Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, and where it sits relative to other tailors I have tried, when I publish the pictures of the Savile Row Bespoke suit.

Cloth: Holland & Sherry, Classic Worsteds, 12/13oz

Worn with:

• Lime-green silk print tie, Drake’s
• Blue spread-collar shirt, D’Avino
• White linen handkerchief, Simonnot-Godard via Mes Chaussettes Rouges
• Deco whole-cut shoes, Gaziano & Girling
    

  
Images: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man

  
Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, the fabulously good value tailor I have written about recently, visit the US 5-6 times a year. 

They will be there next in a couple of weeks – in New York for three days and then Los Angeles for one. 

The details are:

• New York: 18, 19, 20 April. Plaza Athenee Hotel
• Los Angeles:  21 April. The Peninsula, Beverly Hills

Email karen@whitcombshaftesbury.com for appointments. Prices start at $2100 for a 2-piece suit under the Classic Bespoke process I have written about, and $250 for shirts (both ex-VAT). 

Classic Bespoke involves the suit being cut and finished by ex-Kilgour cutter John McCabe (pictured above) in London, but made by a team in India trained by Savile Row coatmaker Bob Bigg. Hence the value. 

Read my review of the resulting suit here. 

  
Earlier this year I started a bespoke summer suit with tailors Manning & Manning. They are a small operation comprising old Row cutter Bryan Manning (above) and his son, with the making outsourced to various coatmakers and trouser makers. 

Rather like other tailors covered recently, such as Whitcomb & Shaftesbury, I was interested whether Manning & Manning could provide an entry-level bespoke experience, given their low costs but experienced cutting. 
  

  
Bryan has an interesting background, having worked for many film and TV operations making period suits. He won an Emmy in 1985 for his work on the suits for ‘Wallenberg: A Hero’s Story’ starring Richard Chamberlain. 

Bryan came from a family of tailors, apprenticed at Kilgour French & Stanbury and became a trainee cutter there a few years later, in 1959. In 1970 he opened his first shop on his own, and had outfits on St Christopher’s Place, Savile Row and Maddox Street. 

In the early 1990s Bryan shifted to being a travelling tailor, and was joined by his son in 1997. He sees clients in the Holland & Sherry showrooms on Savile Row. 
  

  
In yet another twist on the standard Row model, Bryan offers two services: Semi-Bespoke and Full Bespoke. 

Both are cut by Bryan to a fully bespoke paper pattern, but the former has a fused chest piece and the latter a floating, hand-padded one.

Semi-Bespoke with a fused interlining costs £1000. It’s hard to recommend that, given that you can get a Graham Browne floating interlining for the same price. But the Full Bespoke costs only £1350 (both inclusive of VAT). 
  

  
For the commission, I went for a summer-weight wool – the Cape Horn bunch from Holland & Sherry. (Number 1323, 8.5 ounce.)

It’s a high-twist fabric, so like Fresco it can have a slightly open weave and wears cool in the heat. It is also pretty crease-resistant, making it good for travelling. Hard creases will need to be pressed out, but that’s the same with most high-twists. 

It isn’t as coarse as Fresco, which makes it nicer against the skin, although not as hard wearing (not much of a concern for me as it’s unlikely to be an everyday suit). 

I liked the colour as it is a muted tan, with a touch of olive. Not too classic and colonial, but definitely a summer suit.
  

  
The photographs here are of the second fitting. Bryan likes ready-made fitting jackets alongside measurememts, which some people sniff at but several high-end tailors (including Camps de Luca) also use.

He makes use of that system to go straight to a forward fitting, with no baste. This works well if fundamental things like balance are correct straight from the off, but involve more work if they are not. In my case, the front-to-back balance did need some alteration. 

The second fitting was good. Just a few minor things to clear up here and it should be ready.  

Bryan’s style is solidly English military, with a built-up shoulder, structured chest and longer jacket. (By comparison to the French and Italian tailors, rather than others around the Row). 

Photography: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man
  

  
Shirt: Luca Avitabile
Shoes: Bespoke, Stefano Bemer
Tie: Green cashmere, Howard’s 
  

  
A couple of years ago the Royal Academy asked Bryan to comment on Moroni’s well-known painting of a tailor. There are a few nice points in the video create, here: