White Suit Addendum

Here's one I missed from my favourites: fashion designer Christopher McDonnell, as featured in The Telegraph Magazine in 1973, via Flickr. It strikes me that the magazine seemed to attract more cream-of-the-crop fashion coverage and photography than did its closest competitors, judging by the references I've seen in recent tomes like the indispensable Day of the Peacock, published this year by the V&A

McDonnell's ensemble is extremely well considered, dynamically cut and well-fitting. His judiciousness is particularly borne out by the thinking man's approach to boldly printed neckties - leave much of it to the imagination - and he crowns this by balancing this bombast with the ready-made ostentation of the suit, achieving this through the complementary hue of the shirt

I'd replicate this outfit in a heartbeat. I'd certainly appreciate the model

Air - 'Alpha Beta Gaga' (2004)

Not Only For Southern Boys

   I want a white suit

  Yes, that's correct. I want to look like a plantation owner. Actually, I want to own a plantation. That's exactly why I want a white suit. My superiority complex must be indulged in the face of racial sensitivity, the stares of children and dry cleaning bills

   Speaking of children, for a great many of us growing up in Britain of the 1980s and early 1990s, this venerable institution below was our initiation into the intractable allure that a white suit holds. I write of course, of The Man From Del Monte, a tastemaker so prepotent that he could even subjugate Doctor Who 's definitive leading man into performing his narration:



   Of course, I'm quite willing to settle for off white or that light shade of beige that old people favour for upholstery

   Now, I've thought about styling one in a variety of forms. I've even considered ensembles in a Tony Montana or Miami Vice-like vein; utterly germane when matching the large quantities of Bolivian Marching Powder that line one's drawing room. And therein lies a decent line of approach - pastel shirting is an easy gateway to the fun of sporting white suiting - The King of Pop, for one, wrung an enduring image out of royal blue silk and barely-noticeable pinstripes. I do, however, recommend practically any colour other than darker purple - it's a touch too hard on the eyes, really:

Frankly, Mr. Jagger, this is not one of my favourites. But then, Mr. Watts has been consistently putting you to shame since the 1970s hit their middle period

   Nevertheless, Jagger has hit on another interesting aspect - bold shirts and white suits do not necessarily require neckwear; the tropical mode the look connotes makes for a particularly dégagé air; nothing speaks of summer's bright delights like a shirt that brings to mind the concentrated colouring of a particularly punchy cocktail. It's the dressing incarnation of optimism

   If one is particularly insensible or talented, a print shirt, worn in the Tynan fashion, is a step in a similar direction, and these are widely available, from H&M and Topman to Holliday & Brown, Gucci and Prada. The neckwear possibilities for these are a little looser than their pastel cousins - where the latter works best with plain or subtly patterned neckties and bow ties in both contrasting and similar shades, the former allows one to fool around with clashing prints or adventurous textures like raised ribbing and dupioni (both types may also support a neckscarf, where bravery permits). Worn at a function, it's an aesthetic that suggests one has brought all of the fun pills to the party. In the best potential interpretation of that hypothesis, of course

   So, how about a fellow who dons them habitually? Someone who did not earn the word "iconic" by making himself unavoidable via Jersey Shore, perhaps. A fellow who has been renowned for almost 40 years, who has designed garments of exquisite grace and idiosyncrasy, who challenges the Beastie Boys' Mike D for the sobriquet, "Man of Leather"

   Behold, The Last Emperor himself, Valentino Garavani:

   In contrast to rock'n'roll theatricality and dandyish offhandedness, Signor Garavani hews to the side of propriety and age-appropriate formality through simple, sedate accessorising to go with his uniquely Continental manner of quiet authority. Soporific to write about this may be, but for some, the mere act of donning a white suit is a statement in itself. Indeed, this approach makes the suit particularly safe for the city, whereas the playful version has a wider, wilder adaptability. Do not ever let it be said that I cannot cater for more conservative approaches

   Seemingly every neo-haberdashery, designer shop and department store proffer white suits each spring and summer, be it Banana Republic, Hackett, Zara or Ralph Lauren. The choice is very much the preserve of the buyer; my tastes are fairly easygoing and also dependent on fabrics,with one or two caveats - some enticing takes by Tom Ford in his Gucci days aside, I would preferably wear a double breasted version if it were silk. And in the discussion of linen vs. cotton, I'm with cotton - with less of a propensity to wrinkle heavily, it tends to suit three buttons and three pieces more neatly

   Did I mention that they go very well with Panama hats? In this case, I do recommend any hatband colour for one's straw, as long as it is not black

   Here are my three favourite white/light suit examples:

Barry Sainsbury, former director of the iconic Mr. Fish design boutique, in a summer ensemble complete with Fish's signature same fabric shirt and tie

James Salter, novelist and writer, posing for Jill Krementz. Imagine, if you will, that his shirt is either a leafy green, a rich tan or a pale orange and it still would tastefully complement his paradoxically stern yet relaxed demeanour

Speaking of the 1990s, being a Britisher, my first introduction to the American basketball legend Walt 'Clyde' Frazier came from a line in 1992's Beastie Boys song, 'Pass The Mic.' Here, he models a combination that, due to the red shirt and the high contrast, is potentially overpowering on much lighter complexions. The off white colouring is certainly a wiser choice over the purer shade; it prevents Mr. Frazier from resembling a European flag, for one thing


Those who would not chance a pair of correspondent shoes can still rely on stalwart footwear accoutrements in brown, black, tan and blue (thought those two may be best in suede) and oxblood. We cannot all be Clydes

   If a summer stand-out is required, backless chaps and string vests aside, I can think of few better aesthetic responses to the brilliance that this season brings. As long as one doesn't rub up against any surfaces

Inside Maurice Sedwell

Mr. Ramroop has the floor:

Also of interest is the edifying and interesting blog (English Cut for the non-fogey?) authored by Sedwell's head cutter and former assistant to Edward Sexton, Davide Taub, whose appreciable versatility and idiosyncratic detailing nevertheless deserves as wide an audience as possible. This sort of adventurousness seems to be on par with the European operations with venerated names like Camps de Luca and Cifonelli

"You thought that was Jerry Lewis?"

   What a treat it was to watch the Steve Buscemi written, directed and lead Trees Lounge (1996) once more on BBC Two last night; a throwback to the teenage times when that channel and Channel 4 were my leading outlets for independent and global cinema. It's no mean feat making an inveterate screw-up into a compelling screen character, but by God does Mr. Buscemi bring a particular wit and élan to this superficially sleepy small-town universe and its cornucopia of characters who move through it by ignoring or reacting against as many of their burdens as possible. And whilst this is an illicit admission in the context of the story, Chloë Sevigny has rarely been more fetching

   Indeed, what is more topical in these recession days of 2011 than the daily grind of a drink sodden, unemployed life? Idle hands, people, idle hands

Black Caesar at the Crib

Needless to say, this genre pleasure from 1973 boasts some of the funkiest stuff James Brown (in collaboration with Fred Wesley and Barry Devorzon) ever deployed. It is also buoyed by the forceful yet magnetic work of leading man Fred Williamson, the visceral visuals helmed by director and writer Larry Cohen, and the odd moment of stylistic verve - like the cheeky mise-en-scene involving the cinema/theatre board above the cast's heads in the first photograph


Let's dance:

Who is Shelley Berman?

An eyeframes mystery via The Vintage Frames Company:

Leather Lust Object No.10 - Chomping at the Bit

A closer look at the Alan McAfee for Neiman Marcus vintage snaffle bit slip-ons I wore in my recent homage ensemble

The first time I ever wore these, I went out dancing until 3am. I think one can see why:

Similarly, it may come as no surprise that in its heyday, Alan McAfee took bespoke commissions for Fred Astaire, amongst a great many other of the well heeled. An example is retained in the currently dormant fashion collection at The Victoria and Albert Museum. The company,which began in the 19th century,  had an extensive history, as the forvms explain:

In an earlier era, Alan McAfee based its bespoke operation in Dover Street, London, with the ready-to-wear models sold in the US made by Church's and other manufacturers. At one time Church sold relabeled Church shoes as McAfee in cities with competitive retail accounts. The first account would have Church, the second would stock McAfee. Thus, in San Francisco Cable Car Clothiers stocked one brand and Bullock & Jones might stock the same shoe with the other brand. I forget which had which. The dovetail toplift (heel bottom) insert is generically known as a "McAfee Heel" regardless of shoe brand. McAfee later, in the US anyway, used a label that had "London, Paris, New York" without the polo player logo.

McAfee floundered in the late 1980s and tried to raise its profile with Oliver Sweeney as a design director in the early 1990s or so. It didn't save the firm from failing and being bought out by Church's. Church's then used the name on a line of shoes apparently made by Cheaney.

My pair, being made for the American market, is most certainly not made in London. That doesn't take away from how enjoyable they are to own, give or take the adjustment to my protuberances this pair requires

Now, my other pair of McAfees, going by the mod styling and interior logo, are from the London operation. But that is an entry for another day

James Bond vs. Lord Brett Sinclair

   So, two Roger Moore-portrayed adventurers of the 1970s walk into a haberdashery and -

   Oh, that ridiculous scenario is not worth the contriving I'm trying to produce, but suffice to say that whilst my outfit is very much akin to 007's stylings-circa The Man With The Golden Gun - without even observing my higher heeled Alan McAfee snaffle bit slip-ons, a girl actually and facetiously told me that evening, "You scare me, Baron Samedi" (and never mind that I did in fact dress as that particular character for Halloween in Hong Kong last year to the total bafflement of the entire metropolis) - the shirt is certainly more at home in Sir Roger's Tony Curtis-co-starring, Peacock Revolution-set series, The Persuaders!, a reference that is particularly apposite, given that it was created by now-esoteric shirtmakers Deborah&Clare of Beauchamp Place, London some time between 1965 and 1975. They made the shirt Mick Jagger wore for his wedding to Bianca Pérez Morena de Macias, don't you know

   D&C will return in a future Mode Parade entry

Special thanks to The Suits of James Bond