Hairy Times

The beard is back. Even my brother is growing one. A face full of fur smacks of swashbuckling "derring-do." It's testosterone on a chin. The hirsute marque of heroic daring.

Beloved by World War two fighter pilots and pipe-smoking chaps who raced along country lanes in their Morgans, a bristling moustache embodied the spirit of British invincibility, but like many things, it's often hair today, gone tomorrow.

Facial fuzz is no longer a foible of the few. The birthright of a geography teacher has been embraced by the many, with varying degrees of success. What starts off in the mind's eye as a dead ringer for Tom Ford, can quickly transmogrify to Jeremy Beadle in the mirror.

The meterosexual male has given way to something altogether more manly and this trend for all things hairy has been reflected in the world of cloth.

If a relaxing wet shave with hot towels is cashmere, then heavy stubble, or a set of mutton chops is Harris Tweed.

To qualify as genuine Harris Tweed, the cloth must be hand-woven (or warped) by islanders at their homes in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland. Weavers are self-employed and can work for any of the three mills who spin and dye the woollen yarn from which the fabric is made.

The fabric is then finished (cleaned and made stable) and stamped with the official Orb Mark trademark as a seal of its authenticity.



Designers such as Paul Smith, House of Holland and Vivienne Westwood are huge fans. To give you an idea of its popularity, production has soared from four hundred and fifty thousand metres in 2009 to over one million metres in 2012.

The picture below is of Lee Price in his Michelsberg wedding suit. He's worked for Vivienne Westwood for twenty years and they supplied the Harris Tweed cloth (woven exclusively for Westwood) and we did the rest.



Vivienne has got to be one of my favourite designers, and like herself I enjoy working with tartans. I'm currently making a three piece suit for a customer in 'Buchanan OC' that will knock the balls off a mighty elephant.

'Black Watch' in particular is all the rage at the moment. Here's Sam, from Church's shoes in Leeds with a pair of Michelsberg 'och-aye-the-noos,' and below that is a shot from Valentino's latest Autumn / Winter collection.





Whilst caber-country is the obvious place to go in search of tweed and tartan, ten minutes walk from my home in Otley, West Yorkshire, is Marton Mills. Introducing Duncan Watts, their Chairman, and Hannah Slater, their designer.



Established in 1931, it's a family business, employs forty eight people and turns over six million pounds a year.

The yarn comes from M.B. Appleton in Bradford and the cloth is finished at Roberts Dyers in Keighley which they part own with the SIL group.

They also offer a personal bespoke design service and will produce as little as thirteen metres of cloth which is just about enough for six blazers.

So, if there's a gang of chaps out there who want to cut a dash in Michelsberg blazers made-up in their own bespoke tartan / striped fabric, these guys could be just the ticket.

In my mind the vibe would be 'Reservoir Dogs' meets 'Three-men-in-a-boat.' A martini soaked fusion of Ralph Lauren and Jack Wills, minus the Tarquin.

Perfect for terrorising Henley, owning it at the races, or, simply being the best dressed stag-do on the planet.

Wilde Times Ahead

"I find that alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, may produce all the effects of drunkenness.” (Oscar Wilde)

Sprawled on my Chesterfield, a glass of tawny port in hand, I couldn't agree more. For those of you who haven't seen his biography, "Wilde" is a decent film. Whilst my wife, and no doubt Stephen Fry, enjoyed extensive footage of Bosie's (Jude Law's) bottom, I was captivated by the wardrobe.

In a recent article I declared "The Dandy is back," but compared to the Victorians, we're lightweights.

Velvet smoking jackets, silk brocaded dressing gowns with quilted shawl lapels, gold pocket-watches, jewel-encrusted tie pins, cravats, double breasted vests and top hats and straw boaters were paraded before me.

I particularly liked this blazer with matching vest.



Checks are everywhere at the moment. I recently made this jacket in a Super 130's Merino wool blended with Mongolian cashmere. With its purple velvet collar and flashes of purple silk behind the working cuffs, I think it gives the former a run for its money.



It's been a great month here at Michelsberg HQ.

This Saturday, a friend and customer (Paul Dunphy) dropped me a line to say he had just been voted Best Dressed Man at York Races and here he is pictured below with Jeff Banks (remember The Clothes Show?:-).



As my Facebook Page shows, I've been very busy delivering lot's of new threads to happy customers including a few "Uber Levels."

The 'Uber' is our very top-level of construction. I've gone into the nitty-gritty in a previous blog but basically it's as good as tailoring gets.



The button hole above has been sewn by hand in silk twist - it's slightly longer than a machined button hole and has that rather charming hand-made look about it.

If you look at the picture below, you can see small dints in the fabric where the canvas in the lapels has been pad stitched onto the cloth by hand to achieve a wonderful roll.

And check out the chain-stitch which makes up the flower-loop. Sweet.



Best of all, it's got my name in it, beautifully cross stitched by hand.



These are the hallmarks of a truly artisan workshop, craftsmanship at its finest and it gives me a huge buzz to be able to offer it to my customers.

The dream has always been to be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with the best tailoring houses in the world and with 'The Uber' in my armoury, I've got one hell of a pair of Cuban heels to raise me up to their lofty heights.

There's much for me to look forward to - at the end of this week I'm heading off to Devon for a holiday in search of cider, surf and sunshine. Can't wait!

Then, when I get back, I'm throwing a party for friends, customers and suppliers here in the Victoria Quarter, on Thursday 20th September from 6pm.

If it's anything like my opening bash, things could get a bit messy and as Friday morning rears its throbbing head, let's remember Oscar when he said, "Work is the curse of the drinking classes."

Stormy weather

Summer has scoffed her deep-fried peanut butter sandwich and left the building.

This morning my foot winced a little as it vacated the warmth of the duvet, leaving me reaching for a weighty double breasted number to brave a slight chill in the air that I'd forgotten existed.

The rain lashed down as I left the car park. Cowering under my umbrella I scuttled off to work, passing non-brollied people pulling epic rain-faces, gurning away like Blake Fielder-Civil after a big weekend in Ibiza.

I've already delivered quite a few overcoats in preparation for the onslaught of Winter. Classic covert coats with velvet collars and bright linings are always popular and I'm currently making a couple of things that are a bit different.

Today I'm doing a first fitting on 'The Swashbuckler.' It's very long and heavily skirted, inspired by the caped character in the Sandeman Port adverts with a pinch of Pirates of the Caribbean and Withnail & I (one of my favourite films) thrown in for good measure.



Something that won't have escaped your sartorial radar is the popularity of Tweed at the moment. I've blogged about it in a previous post and have recently got some bunches in that would knock the balls off a mighty elephant.



Bold over-checks and LSD inspired designs are the name of the game here, vastly removed from the dour browns and greens favoured by damp Scottish gamekeepers as they grumble into their Whiskeys.

That said, you don't need colour to make Tweed look stylish. Check out this little baby we made for a recent customer. It's a very fitted three button coat and I'm loving the patch pockets and flap on the out-breast welt.



I'm also a big fan of the Storm Collar, particularly when it's worn with the collars up, à la Eric Cantona. It's tough, confident, full of swagger and says don't call me names or I'll kick you dans la tête.

But the French man, like myself, would snort in disgust at an 'ooh ahh' collar worn on a lounge suit, like the one I spotted on Peter Jones whilst watching Dragons Den last night.



Utterly, teeth-clenchingly, balls-rising-upwardly grim. A storm-collar was designed to fight the wind and keep out the cold and should only be found on overcoats and garments of substance.

What on earth was he thinking? Maybe the air conditioning gets a bit full on in the back of his Maybach but that is still no excuse for placing what is tantamount to a penis extension above the lapel. It's a veritable carbuncle and ultimately sacrilegious towards a silky Super 150's cloth. Shameful.

Now it's just possible that I'm getting my knickers in a twist over nothing. To paraphrase Withnail, the fact that the best tailoring Peter Jones has ever seen is above his appendix doesn't mean anything.

Perhaps I need to chill out a little, and that, my friends, is the plan for next week.

I will be heading to Croyde Bay with my family to indulge my passion and love for surfing. Yes, if Mother Nature is kind to me, by Saturday lunchtime I'll be top-to-toe in rubber and up to my nipples in the healing waters of the Atlantic ocean.

And later that night, as I flounce into The Thatch Inn and demand the finest wines available to humanity, I will politely inform the landlord, that I'm not from London you know.

I feel the need, the need for Tweed

It's that time in the year when we can start to kick back a little and tuck into the joys of corporate hospitality. The Grand Prix, glorious Goodwood, The Open and York races all lie temptingly before us.

Even as I write, the cash registers are going mental in the Champagne tents at Henley and Wimbledon - speaking of which, I'd like to propose a toast to Nadal for knocking out the bicep wheelding Brit who no doubt still supports "whoever's playing England.."



Yes gents, it's time to close outlook heaven, switch off the crackberry, dress up to the nines and give the liver a good going over. Bonding with colleagues, friends and valued customers is the name of the game so let's keep the sensible dark grey two piece firmly in the wardrobe, flex our sartorial wings and let the good times roll.

The races is a classic venue for fun and frolics and in my mind there are essentially two paths that a well dressed chappie can tread.

The first is something in tweed for which I have a particular soft spot. Perhaps the best merchant in the world for Tweed is W Bill at 13 New Burlington Street, London. The head honcho is a lovely chap by the name of Ray Hammet who calls me, and I'm sure the rest of his customers, "chief."

Classic tweed is heavy (at least 18oz), scratchy, almost bulletproof, usually in muted browns and greens with a subtly coloured windowpane check. It is worn by the likes of whisky drinking gamekeepers (who probably support whoever's playing England), the old school hunting, shooting and fishing set, and it's primary purpose is to keep out the cold and the rain.

In terms of style, the classic tweed coat has three buttons, slanted pockets and a centre vent. A client of mine who is conservative by my standards wanted a 'proper tweed suit' but NOT something that looked like it had been stolen from toad (of toad hall) or Farmer Palmer. Here's what we came up with.



We went for a fifteen ounce cloth from Lear Browne and Dunsford which has got some meat to it but won't feel like he's sitting in a sauna. It's got two buttons and a ticket pocket which nicely emphasizes the waist, a storm collar for detail and check out that imposing shoulder line and the way we've matched up the checks...tres bon, if I say so myself.

The second route one might take is perhaps a seriously snazzy lounge suit in Mohair or perhaps a more modern take on a classic tweed.

For example, I recently made a 3 piece suit in a Super 120's light tan herringbone with a lilac windowpane check. It had a bright lilac lining, lilac coloured button holes, peak lapels, one button on the coat, a flat bottomed waistcoat and flat fronted trousers. Sounds a bit over the top but trust me when I say it looked awesome.

A trip to the races also means you can go a little bit crazy with accessories - trilby hats (see my last blog), cuff links, hankies, pocket watches, ties that are so bright and colourful they'd send a mole running for cover - it's all fair game and if you've got it, there's no better place to flaunt it.

A recommendation - if you are looking to treat your employees or clients to some corporate hospitality then speak to a good friend and client of mine, Robert Poutch who runs Imperial Corporate Events.

And finally a word or warning - take it easy on the sauce or you might end up like this guy - then again, what would you expect from a man who wears rubber soled shoes.