Wednesday 28 January 2015
Power Cords
Happy New Year my friends - may it be a fabulous one for us all!
I'm slowly getting back to my fighting weight, after what has been a particularly sinful Christmas, and am delighted to report that business has got off to a cracking start.
There's a real Seventies vibe going on at the moment, with bold checks, wide lapels and deep collared shirts increasingly featuring in the armoury of my victims.
My apprentice, Mr Anderson, has fully embraced this nod to the days of helmet-hair and flashing dance-floors, with the addition to his wardrobe of this plush, burgundy corduroy suit.
Back in the days of disco and devilment, corduroy was worn by the likes of Jagger and Dylan, but has also been embraced by the landed gentry and Oxbridge professors.
Whilst I have nothing again brains, or blue-blood, we wanted something sharp, more strutting rock star, than fusty fuddy-duddy. So, we've turned up the volume, put on our platform shoes and given it the right royal Michelsberg treatment.
It's skin tight, fitted to the max, with one button to fasten, flamboyant four-inch peak lapels and a turn-up on the (very slim) trouser.
The look has a raffish air about it - perfect attire for deflowering a fur-clad lovely in St. Moritz, rather than taking tea and crumpets with Stephen Fry in West Bilney.
Corduroy has a wonderfully soft, luxurious and indulgent handle. Together with moleskin and velvet, it was part of a group of cotton and linen based fabrics, known in the Nineteenth Century as the 'fustians'.
Today, it's usually made of 100% cotton, although the cloth company Scabal have a lovely bunch blended with 10% cashmere.
In terms of its manufacture, the loom is set up with a higher number of weft threads (running left to right) than warp threads (running up and down) so that a dense, smooth, fabric is produced. This is then cut using special machines to form 'ridges' of raised pile down the length of the piece.
Cord is classified according to the size of the ‘wale’, or the number of ridges per inch.
I prefer ‘needlecord’ or ‘pincord’ which has a finer amount of wales, meaning the cord count is higher. It's softer and more subtle than the brown 'jumbo' cord trousers of my youth :-)
Another trend that's very popular at the moment, is 'separates' - mixing up jackets, trousers and vests in different materials, colours and textures.
One of the benefits of investing in a corduroy suit is that you’ll have a sharp jacket to wear with jeans, flannels, or, cotton chinos. Alternatively, you can wear the trousers with knitwear, or, a closely fitted wool blazer, or, top-coat.
It takes a certain degree of style and flair to get it right, but that's all part of the fun. Bringing together a selection of garments and accessories to create a look that is harmonious and unique.
We've just taken delivery of a stunning new Italian jacketing bunch, as well as Scabal's Spring / Summer collection in cotton, linen and silk.
Whilst most will work with jeans, they are just crying out for that perfect pair of strides. Whether that's a light grey shade of cool wool, or a seriously bright gabardine is up to you.
Roll on Spring and let the dressing up begin!
Monday 29 December 2014
Yuletide Greetings
On Monday 23rd December, Christmas came early at Michelsberg Tailoring with an exciting delivery from the elves at UPS.
Introducing our new selection of Donegal tweed, knitted silk ties, and assortment of pocket hanks - deep joy.
With the frenzied excitement of my three year old daughter Elizabeth, faced with a new "Frozen" costume, I ripped off my Hermes number and slipped on a burgundy Donegal, secured with my favourite knot - the half-Windsor.
My subsequent preening was then rudely interrupted by Charlie, my twenty two year old side kick, who informed me that I should really be using the Four-in-Hand.
Let the heated debate begin.
When it comes to tying one's neck-candy, the question of which knot to use is overwhelming. The half-Windsor, full-Windsor, Four-in-Hand, Double-Four-in-Hand (Prince Albert), Balthus, Trinity, Pratt, Nicky, Kelvin, Fishbone are just a few for consideration.
Any of the above can be viewed using the powers of Google and You-Tube, but for the purpose of this little missive, I'm going to stick with two, as they represent two very different schools of thought.
In the red corner: asymmetrical, smaller, slightly elongated, and often called the "school boy's knot" we have the Four-in-hand.
In the blue corner, symmetrical, looks like an inverted triangle, the half-Windsor (it's larger cousin, the Windsor, often called the "foot-ballers knot")
Technically, what works best for you will depend on how spread (open) the collar is, the size and proportion of your face, the tie itself (weight of fabric, its dimensions) and of course, the style of the coat you are wearing it with.
The Four-in-Hand Knot, because it's smaller and longer, works well on shirts with narrower, or button down collars, skinny or medium-width ties, and men who have slimmer faces with a more defined chin.
Take for example, Mr Connery in the picture below.
His skinny, knitted silk tie and slim 60's style lapels add weight to the above. As far as his chin goes, it's certainly slimmer than mine after several Christmas dinners and seven days on the sauce.
In From Russia With Love, Ian Fleming wrote that, "Bond mistrusted anyone who tied his tie with a Windsor knot; it showed too much vanity. It was often the mark of a cad."
Strong words that must be taken with a pinch of salt, particularly when considering he also said "sumo wrestlers can retract their testicles."
I now call two chaps into the Witness box as further ammunition for my defence:
1) Mads Mikkelsen from Hannibal.
Here, I think the Windsor knot is a perfect foil for this outfit. It works well with the cut-away collar and echoes the V line created by those fabulous wide, plunging, pointed peak lapels.
2) Patrick McNee from the Avengers
One of my true style heroes. Immaculate, dandified but certainly not brash. Everything has been considered and laundered to perfection. The starched shirt-collar, vest, lapels and tie all work together in perfect harmony, creating razor sharp lines. Here is a man for whom a wonky knot simply wouldn't do.
Being realistic, both the four-in-hand and half-Windsor knots each have their own merits, and neither would disgrace a Michelsberg bespoke shirt and suit.
To me, choice depends less on size and proportion and is more about your character and how you wish to be seen by others.
If you are a regular reader of GQ, the Rake Magazine and participate in various online style forums, there is a widely held belief that the four-in-hand is the Gentleman's knot of choice.
They argue that because it is imperfect and slightly askew, it creates are more free-spirited, laid back impression and is more unconventional.
A man, frequently lauded by the above is Gianni Agnelli, the "Rake of the Riviera."
Here was one seriously debonair dude. A bon viveur and lover of Caraceni bespoke suits he epitomised what the Italians call "sprezzatura" - defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as "studied carelessness".
Effortlessly chic, too cool for school, to me, this is the heart and soul of Italian dressing.
Creating an air of apparent modesty and nonchalance, and living with your Mother to be able to afford it :-)
Knitted ties aside, I'll always be more of a Steed than an Agnelli, but don't let that polished exterior fool you.
Behind that velvet top collar and Whangee umbrella, lies a mischievous heart and a disgraceful sense of humour.
Ciao for now and here's wishing you all a wonderful start to 2015.
Sunday 30 November 2014
Running the gauntlet
I've just finished Ranulph Fiennes's autobiography, "Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know."
His 'why can't I?' approach to life is uplifting and truly inspirational. He too had his heroes, and in life, I believe you need people (and their work) to look up to and emulate.
Inspiration comes in many ways. As far as tailoring and style go, for me it's the likes of Sir Paul Smith, Chittleborough & Morgan, Ralph Lauren, Mark Powell, Ermenegildo Zegna, Cifonelli and Attolini who drive me on to do better and achieve more.
When sitting down with a customer for the first time, often is the case they haven't got a clue what they want. Then it's all about listening, probing, connecting, getting on a level and building trust and rapport.
Understanding what will work for any given customer is not something that can be taught. Good taste is born in your DNA and there's no substitute for experience.
Naturally, I have my own sense of style and know what I love, but the many hours I've spent, pouring over other tailors work (past and present), is a treasure trove to be plundered with relish.
Style icons are often another source of inspiration for my customers, and that was certainly the case when making a tuxedo for my friend (and Bond geek) Mr Paul Dunphy.
What man doesn't grin inside, when Mr Connery light's up his cigarette in Dr No and utters those immortal words, "The name's bond. James Bond."
In my opinion, the one button shawl lapel cannot be beaten and here is what we came up with.
One of the details that we included were "Gauntlet Cuffs" and these are highlighted in the picture below.
A first for Michelsberg Tailoring, I feel they are worthy of some debate. Whilst I'm a fan, detractors liken them to a circumcised sleeve.
The "Gauntlet's" history goes back to medieval days as a metal plated glove used to protect a Knights sword hand.
Thrown down to signify a duel, it's got a whiff of "Game of Thrones" about it, perhaps striking a cord with today's immoral, wine-drinking, wench-biffing, wannabee from The House of Lannister.
The first time I came across them was in the work of Soho based tailor, Mark Powell. As far as his threads are concerned, I'm a big fan. Tailor to The Krays, The Stones and other men of disrepute, his clothes are flamboyant, edgy and not afraid to turn heads.
Whether a gauntlet cuff will work or not, in my opinion, depends on the fabric and the style of the rest of the suit, and of course the wearer who needs confidence to pull it off.
Like a storm collar, I feel it works very well with Tweed, as can be seen in the picture below of a suit cut by Steven Hitchcock of Anderson & Sheppard.
Also, a perfect foil to a classic tuxedo, or smoking jacket, it was very much a feature of Edwardian dress and smacks of days done by. This, I feel needs to be reflected when designing the rest of the garment.
As far as a lounge suit goes, I'd have wide, pointed peak lapels, a longer length coat, exaggerated skirt and one button to fasten.
There'd probably be a velvet / silk contrasting collar and pocket jets, high-waisted trousers with wider legs and a beautiful pair of shoes by Gaziano & Girling.
The image below is on the right lines and is what I am talking about earlier. Finding something that strikes a cord and twisting and tweaking it to make it your own.
Here's a final shot of Gordon Gekko incorporating what just might be the signature cuff of a man who is mad, bad
and dangerous to know.
Whist both Sir Ran and I might not agree with his notion that "Greed is Good," you don't get anywhere in life without hard graft, so there just might be a grain of truth in his maxim that "lunch is for wimps."
Thursday 23 October 2014
Feeling Horny.
My Grandma, Edith, used to come out with some wonderful phrases:
"She's all teeth and temptation," was one of my favourites, as was, "don't spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar."
The former young filly, is often encountered by a chap, resplendent in a Michelsberg bespoke suit. The latter, is my call to arms when making it.
When it comes to tailoring, the devil is very much in the detail, and economising on trivial things is dangerous ground. It's all very well selecting a beautiful cloth and lining, but just as important are the use of quality trimmings.
Decent canvas, shoulder pads, pocket bags, thread, zips, will all help to ensure a long and happy life for your bespoke garment.
As far as trimmings go, I'm a big fan of Richard James Weldon, one of the oldest trimming merchants in Britain, who have supplied the trade since 1826. Sourcing top-end silk facings (used to make the lapels) for dinner suits isn't easy and these guys have a lovely selection.
Another of my firm favourites is Bernstein & Banleys.
Based in Southend-on-Sea, I've done business with them for years, but it wasn't until a recent dinner at the Merchant Taylors Hall in London, that I actually met with one of their tribe.
Here is Peter Lockwood, their Operations Manager, who, like myself, had sneaked off to the bar, during one of the less stimulating speeches...
In my opinion you just can't beat putting a face to a name / voice at the end of a phone. So even better, when one of their directors, Fran Bardhi, took a deep breath and made the journey North of Watford gap to come and show me his wares.
Without doubt, one of the most important things to me, from a visual perspective, is using beautiful buttons. They are in many ways the alloy wheels of a bespoke suit and can make it, or, break it.
Done right, they are the perfect foil to a prestige marque that oozes style and sophistication. Go wrong and you've got a twat-mobile with go-faster stripes, spoilers, and a bangin' bass booster.
There's something about the feel of a plastic / polyester button that leaves me cold.
Not so, when you have a nugget of buffalo, or, ox-horn in your hand. It's warm and weighty. You can almost smell the rolling meadows and hear the thunder of hoofs, as you caress the notches endured over a thousand ruttings.
James Grove and Sons, based in the West Midlands, were one of the world's largest horn button manufacturers, but sadly ceased trading at the end of 2012.
Bernstein and Banley acquired their entire stock, and for me, are de rigueur when the suit is ready for 'finishing.'
Here's Judy, in 'button-corner' of the workroom, selecting the brown horn-buttons for my apprentice Charlie's first bespoke suit, made-up in a fawn wool worsted fabric, by Hardy Minnis of Savile Row.
Whilst horn buttons will work with many fabrics, there are of course exceptions.
I'm currently making a suit, in baby-blue cloth by Scabal, for a wedding in Skiathos and have decided to use Mother of Pearl buttons. The pink and green hues will sparkle in the sunshine and provide a nod to the creamy silk lining that lies underneath.
For a razor sharp black cocktail suit, in silky Halstead Super 120's, we've gone for Smoked Mother of Pearl buttons with a gunmetal grey lining.
When it comes to dinner suits, or a mod inspired Tonic Mohair suit, we make our own silk / cloth-covered buttons using the machine below.
As I've always said, making a bespoke suit requires team-work and is a genuine collaboration between the customer and myself.
Whilst I will always make my own suggestions, often is the case we use buttons sourced by my customers.
They've come from 'Duttons for Buttons,' a flea-market in Paris, a vintage garment they already own, to something (a silver Yorkshire rose) that they just want to use as the last cuff button.
The amount of time and energy that can go into making a bespoke suit is incredible, and it is finishing touches like these that can turn a garment into something sentimental and highly personable.
As far as Charlie goes, he's made-up with his new threads (pictured below) and who can blame him. Getting the horn is all part of the territory for a thrusting twenty one year old.
"She's all teeth and temptation," was one of my favourites, as was, "don't spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar."
The former young filly, is often encountered by a chap, resplendent in a Michelsberg bespoke suit. The latter, is my call to arms when making it.
When it comes to tailoring, the devil is very much in the detail, and economising on trivial things is dangerous ground. It's all very well selecting a beautiful cloth and lining, but just as important are the use of quality trimmings.
Decent canvas, shoulder pads, pocket bags, thread, zips, will all help to ensure a long and happy life for your bespoke garment.
As far as trimmings go, I'm a big fan of Richard James Weldon, one of the oldest trimming merchants in Britain, who have supplied the trade since 1826. Sourcing top-end silk facings (used to make the lapels) for dinner suits isn't easy and these guys have a lovely selection.
Another of my firm favourites is Bernstein & Banleys.
Based in Southend-on-Sea, I've done business with them for years, but it wasn't until a recent dinner at the Merchant Taylors Hall in London, that I actually met with one of their tribe.
Here is Peter Lockwood, their Operations Manager, who, like myself, had sneaked off to the bar, during one of the less stimulating speeches...
In my opinion you just can't beat putting a face to a name / voice at the end of a phone. So even better, when one of their directors, Fran Bardhi, took a deep breath and made the journey North of Watford gap to come and show me his wares.
Without doubt, one of the most important things to me, from a visual perspective, is using beautiful buttons. They are in many ways the alloy wheels of a bespoke suit and can make it, or, break it.
Done right, they are the perfect foil to a prestige marque that oozes style and sophistication. Go wrong and you've got a twat-mobile with go-faster stripes, spoilers, and a bangin' bass booster.
There's something about the feel of a plastic / polyester button that leaves me cold.
Not so, when you have a nugget of buffalo, or, ox-horn in your hand. It's warm and weighty. You can almost smell the rolling meadows and hear the thunder of hoofs, as you caress the notches endured over a thousand ruttings.
James Grove and Sons, based in the West Midlands, were one of the world's largest horn button manufacturers, but sadly ceased trading at the end of 2012.
Bernstein and Banley acquired their entire stock, and for me, are de rigueur when the suit is ready for 'finishing.'
Here's Judy, in 'button-corner' of the workroom, selecting the brown horn-buttons for my apprentice Charlie's first bespoke suit, made-up in a fawn wool worsted fabric, by Hardy Minnis of Savile Row.
Whilst horn buttons will work with many fabrics, there are of course exceptions.
I'm currently making a suit, in baby-blue cloth by Scabal, for a wedding in Skiathos and have decided to use Mother of Pearl buttons. The pink and green hues will sparkle in the sunshine and provide a nod to the creamy silk lining that lies underneath.
For a razor sharp black cocktail suit, in silky Halstead Super 120's, we've gone for Smoked Mother of Pearl buttons with a gunmetal grey lining.
When it comes to dinner suits, or a mod inspired Tonic Mohair suit, we make our own silk / cloth-covered buttons using the machine below.
As I've always said, making a bespoke suit requires team-work and is a genuine collaboration between the customer and myself.
Whilst I will always make my own suggestions, often is the case we use buttons sourced by my customers.
They've come from 'Duttons for Buttons,' a flea-market in Paris, a vintage garment they already own, to something (a silver Yorkshire rose) that they just want to use as the last cuff button.
The amount of time and energy that can go into making a bespoke suit is incredible, and it is finishing touches like these that can turn a garment into something sentimental and highly personable.
As far as Charlie goes, he's made-up with his new threads (pictured below) and who can blame him. Getting the horn is all part of the territory for a thrusting twenty one year old.
Tuesday 30 September 2014
It's not a party without Charlie..
On Monday September the 8th, my new apprentice, Charlie Anderson, pushed the Michelsberg Tailoring buzzer, and climbed the stairs towards sartorial heaven for the first time.
Whilst it's early days, the lad's done well, enthusiasm dripping from each of his twenty-one year old pores.
He's shown initiative, has boundless energy and has already started to get to grips with the tape-measure, chalk and pins.
Most pleasing is his eye. Spotting a 'drop shoulder' is all very well, but it's getting those little things right, like the button position, width of lapel, depth of pocket flap, that makes all the difference.
You can't teach someone good taste, and apart from a frightening penchant for elbow patches and coloured shoe laces, we're pretty much on the same level.
I've also enjoyed the banter. He's ripped into me about my small feet. I just laugh at his incredibly prominent seat.
On Thursday of that week we threw a party to celebrate his arrival.
A four piece New Orleans Jazz Band led by Jim Wright let it rip, as family, friends, customers, suppliers, and my fellow Victoria Quarter tenants hammered the Michelsberg bar and raised a glass to the new kid.
Big respect must go to Charlie's ex-boss David, who made it all the way up from London to show his support.
My spies tell me that he was the leader of the after party shenanigans at Smokestack, setting up the sambuca shots until well after two in the morning.
Finally, a doff of the cap to Paul at Westmount Wines for the fabulous fizz, and a mighty hurrah! for Bruce at Salt's Delicatessen for the wonderful Yorkshire-sized canapés.
Using the considerable talents of my friend Christopher Thompson at Lightsmith Visuals we've put together a short video of the party and the link for viewing is here.
Enjoy!
Friday 22 August 2014
Short tempered
The one crumb of comfort I'll take from the end of Summer, is no more encounters like this one in Leeds.
As he swaggered past me, rapping "A'm rollin' wi mi backie..." I didn't know whether to laugh, or, cry.
Sunshine can bring with it a multitude of sins, and last week, on my way down to Newquay, my retinas were once again subjected to more horrors of the flesh.
When it comes to shorts, my viewpoint from a sartorial perspective is unwavering. They are ugly, unsophisticated and I will not make them.
Even Ralph Lauren, who I admire considerably, is unable to promote them with aplomb. Check out his advert below.
What on earth is going on here? Wayward boaters, hunting a lost canoe on the streets of Milan, assisted by hippy chicks and a handy spin-bowler?
A company who I do feel deserves a mention is Orlebar Brown and their "tailored swim shorts." Often featuring outlandish designs, they've cunningly added a metal buckle and side fastener onto the waistband, which I do like.
All they need to do is incorporate a removable colostomy bag, for when you hand over two hundred and forty five pounds to pay for them.
No matter how toned of calf, or, bronzed of flesh a chap might be, I will always give shorts a resounding no. Their only place is the beach, the sports-field, or the school playground.
I can hear the cry's of "poppycock" from those of you who wallow in a climate more favourable than my own.
Trust me. Shorts are God's way of having a little joke with those of you who think heat is an excuse to lower the tone.
Last month, it hit eighty degrees in my showroom and I still wore a tie, vest and leather shoes. God save the Queen!
A pair of linen, cotton, seersucker, mohair, trousers, will always look great and keep you cool. Whilst I like the skinny bottom, flash of ankle vibe, I feel these (spotted on my travels) are a tad on the short side.
Anyway, now that you've let me have my rant, I'm feeling much better and so on to more positive things.
It's been a great month here at Michelsberg HQ. Business has been brisk and I've fitted out an office / new kitchen above the showroom, in preparation for my new apprentice, Charlie, who starts early next month.
As a celebration, I am hosting a customer party on Thursday, September 11th from 6pm (in the Victoria Quarter), so you can help me raise a glass and welcome him into our tribe.
There will be live jazz, canapés from Salt's deli and a disgraceful amount of alcohol.
Dress Code will be Michelsberg Tailoring. No Shorts.
Hope to see you soon and remember, now is the time to get in those orders for pre-Christmas dinner suits and overcoats :-)
À bientôt mes amis!
Wednesday 30 July 2014
Tennis, trofie and tailors
It's 4.30pm on a Friday afternoon in Leeds.
Blue sky, twenty seven degrees, and a white-wine and Peroni soaked crowd of suits, are wallowing on the sun-drenched pavement outside the Bar & Grill.
Now is the time of the year to kick back and suck the marrow out of every bone Mother Nature throws at us.
Earlier this month, I decided to take a cheeky day off, and my wife and I headed down to Wimbledon for the tennis.
With yet another glorious day on the cards, and wanting to look the part, my first port of call was to my favourite hatters Lock and Co on St James's street, to treat myself to a Panama hat.
Armed with my new head candy, we jumped on a bus and crawled along the streets of gold to the grass lawns of the All-England club.
To be honest, tennis isn't really my game. The highlight for me was the nimble footed lineswoman who, a dead ringer for Miss Marple, was a magnet for an extremely powerful Russian's serve.
Watching the old dear, busting shapes to avoid getting clattered by a tennis ball, reduced me to a giggling wreck.
After three hours of play, I'd had enough. My long-suffering wife, Nikki, agreed we could up sticks and head to Mayfair, where there just happened to be a couple of tailors I wanted to visit...
First stop was Spencer Hart's new flagship store on Brook Street. Here I am with Moaz, one of their Sales Associates.
He's the one in the black suit. Not the Michael Winner look-a-like showing more chest hair than Simon Cowell.
Ten years ago, I visited their shop on Savile Row and met Nick Hart, the founder.
For someone just starting out in the trade, it was pretty inspirational stuff. Dark wood, soft jazz music, razor sharp threads on the wall. The place had soul, a real edge to it.
Since then, they've gone from strength to strength, building their brand and launching successful ready-to-wear and made-to-measure collections. They now have a truly international presence, dressing numerous high-profile celebrities.
In a past life, the new shop was a bank, and Moaz was kind enough to let me check out "The Vault," their underground, luxury personal shopping suite.
Whilst upstairs is "L.A" bright and beautiful, the darker side of Spencer Hart was once again revealed.
Very much a Bond villains lair, you'd be very happy to chill on the leather banquet and select a vintage Rolex, or, commission a bespoke pair of velvet slippers.
Next on the radar was Thom Sweeney.
Based on Weighhouse Street, these guys are currently making a real name for themselves and deservedly so.
The two founders, Thom Widdett and Luke Sweeney, used to work for Timothy Everest before sailing off on their own ship.
I met with Thom and Matthew Gonzales, one of his junior cutters, on a recent trip overseas and it was clear to me then that these guys have style and ambition in abundance.
Their signature dish is the "Horse-shoe" vest, served with a side order of old-school glamour. They've also recently launched a ready-to-wear line and I have no doubt we'll be hearing much more from them in the near future.
Matthew was in their basement workrooms when I arrived and gave me the grand tour. Their shop was fabulous. It oozed with charm and character and like the chaps themselves, impeccably attired.
Judging by the pile of re-cuts he had to do, business is brisk for them at the moment!
After that, it was time for cocktails.
Heading down Bond Street towards Soho, we passed Sotheby's, the auction house. Directly outside was a crowd of photographers and a sign in the window: "Impressionist & Modern Art Evening Sale."
One of my customers, Paddy, works for them at a senior level and so, seizing the day, I wandered across to the doorman (dressed in full morning suit and top hat) and enquired as to whether he was in attendance.
He popped inside to find out. Moments later, a frightfully British chap, who introduced himself as Harry, bustled through the door. We were greeted like long lost friends and swept inside.
After eight years in tailoring I can spot a five grand suit at twenty paces and this place was rammed to the gills with them.
The rarefied atmosphere buzzed with expectation. The art-strewn walls, a shimmering backdrop, to this cultured oasis for the wealthy, privileged, and beautiful.
It turned out Paddy had just left, but Harry ushered us into the sale room and proceeded to give us the lowdown on paintings by Monet, Picasso, Renoir and Mondrian.
The collection raised just over one hundred and twenty million pounds. Not a bad little earner for a Monday night's work.
I later found out that Harry was in fact, Lord Harry Dalmeny, Deputy Chairman of Sotheby's. It's not often I'm given a private tour of art-work by a member of the peerage. Surreal.
We were 'papped' as we left the building (hilarious) and the best was yet to come. Dinner at Bocca Di Lupo.
If there are three words you must remember from this post, these are it. Utterly, totally and unequivocally the best Italian food I have eaten in this country.
The courgette flowers filled with mozzarella and anchovy were boules of joy. The roast suckling pig with grapes, white wine and bay, so unctuously magnificent, I felt bereaved when it came to an end.
London really is, a truly special place. Wonderful things can, and will happen for you there, if you have the desire to seek them out.
Fine threads, good food and a smidge of culture are always on my hit list, and as usual our wonderful capital city delivered.
Blue sky, twenty seven degrees, and a white-wine and Peroni soaked crowd of suits, are wallowing on the sun-drenched pavement outside the Bar & Grill.
Now is the time of the year to kick back and suck the marrow out of every bone Mother Nature throws at us.
Earlier this month, I decided to take a cheeky day off, and my wife and I headed down to Wimbledon for the tennis.
With yet another glorious day on the cards, and wanting to look the part, my first port of call was to my favourite hatters Lock and Co on St James's street, to treat myself to a Panama hat.
Armed with my new head candy, we jumped on a bus and crawled along the streets of gold to the grass lawns of the All-England club.
To be honest, tennis isn't really my game. The highlight for me was the nimble footed lineswoman who, a dead ringer for Miss Marple, was a magnet for an extremely powerful Russian's serve.
Watching the old dear, busting shapes to avoid getting clattered by a tennis ball, reduced me to a giggling wreck.
After three hours of play, I'd had enough. My long-suffering wife, Nikki, agreed we could up sticks and head to Mayfair, where there just happened to be a couple of tailors I wanted to visit...
First stop was Spencer Hart's new flagship store on Brook Street. Here I am with Moaz, one of their Sales Associates.
He's the one in the black suit. Not the Michael Winner look-a-like showing more chest hair than Simon Cowell.
Ten years ago, I visited their shop on Savile Row and met Nick Hart, the founder.
For someone just starting out in the trade, it was pretty inspirational stuff. Dark wood, soft jazz music, razor sharp threads on the wall. The place had soul, a real edge to it.
Since then, they've gone from strength to strength, building their brand and launching successful ready-to-wear and made-to-measure collections. They now have a truly international presence, dressing numerous high-profile celebrities.
In a past life, the new shop was a bank, and Moaz was kind enough to let me check out "The Vault," their underground, luxury personal shopping suite.
Whilst upstairs is "L.A" bright and beautiful, the darker side of Spencer Hart was once again revealed.
Very much a Bond villains lair, you'd be very happy to chill on the leather banquet and select a vintage Rolex, or, commission a bespoke pair of velvet slippers.
Next on the radar was Thom Sweeney.
Based on Weighhouse Street, these guys are currently making a real name for themselves and deservedly so.
The two founders, Thom Widdett and Luke Sweeney, used to work for Timothy Everest before sailing off on their own ship.
I met with Thom and Matthew Gonzales, one of his junior cutters, on a recent trip overseas and it was clear to me then that these guys have style and ambition in abundance.
Their signature dish is the "Horse-shoe" vest, served with a side order of old-school glamour. They've also recently launched a ready-to-wear line and I have no doubt we'll be hearing much more from them in the near future.
Matthew was in their basement workrooms when I arrived and gave me the grand tour. Their shop was fabulous. It oozed with charm and character and like the chaps themselves, impeccably attired.
Judging by the pile of re-cuts he had to do, business is brisk for them at the moment!
After that, it was time for cocktails.
Heading down Bond Street towards Soho, we passed Sotheby's, the auction house. Directly outside was a crowd of photographers and a sign in the window: "Impressionist & Modern Art Evening Sale."
One of my customers, Paddy, works for them at a senior level and so, seizing the day, I wandered across to the doorman (dressed in full morning suit and top hat) and enquired as to whether he was in attendance.
He popped inside to find out. Moments later, a frightfully British chap, who introduced himself as Harry, bustled through the door. We were greeted like long lost friends and swept inside.
After eight years in tailoring I can spot a five grand suit at twenty paces and this place was rammed to the gills with them.
The rarefied atmosphere buzzed with expectation. The art-strewn walls, a shimmering backdrop, to this cultured oasis for the wealthy, privileged, and beautiful.
It turned out Paddy had just left, but Harry ushered us into the sale room and proceeded to give us the lowdown on paintings by Monet, Picasso, Renoir and Mondrian.
The collection raised just over one hundred and twenty million pounds. Not a bad little earner for a Monday night's work.
I later found out that Harry was in fact, Lord Harry Dalmeny, Deputy Chairman of Sotheby's. It's not often I'm given a private tour of art-work by a member of the peerage. Surreal.
We were 'papped' as we left the building (hilarious) and the best was yet to come. Dinner at Bocca Di Lupo.
If there are three words you must remember from this post, these are it. Utterly, totally and unequivocally the best Italian food I have eaten in this country.
The courgette flowers filled with mozzarella and anchovy were boules of joy. The roast suckling pig with grapes, white wine and bay, so unctuously magnificent, I felt bereaved when it came to an end.
London really is, a truly special place. Wonderful things can, and will happen for you there, if you have the desire to seek them out.
Fine threads, good food and a smidge of culture are always on my hit list, and as usual our wonderful capital city delivered.
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