Several years ago I bought my first navy double breasted blazer. It was a Polo Ralph Lauren I’d gotten on eBay, vintage c.1994, and it had big lapels and unabashedly wide shoulders. Putting it on for the first time felt like stepping into a new era. At the time, and frankly even today, the suits and jackets for sale are slim in just about every way they can be—slim fit, slim proportions, slim lapels, narrow shoulders. It isn’t bad. It’s kind of a mashup of the mid-century vibe made famous in the aughts by Mad Men with a contemporary continental European look made accessible by SuitSupply.
But when I first put that Polo DB on, something that I’d been searching for in clothing clicked. It was a sense of drama.
Those slim fit, narrow, short suits and jackets can feel comfortable in one sense because they adhere more closely to your body, so there’s less fabric flowing around to think about. I understand why that’s appealing, especially for someone being crowded on public transportation, or someone with kids who’s carrying a ton of stuff around, bending over to the ground to pick them up.
But what I learned after experimenting with the slim trend is that it’s impossible to wear comfortably. First, there’s the constant worry that you might split something at the seams if you bend over or move in a certain way. Fat guy in a little coat is a real thing. With slim pants, they’re catching on your calves when you sit down and you have to literally pull them down when you stand up. With jackets, you can’t button it after eating a Mexican lunch, let alone gain a couple pounds like we all do in life.
Honestly the only way you can really do a truly slim fit is to add stretch to everything. Which might be no big deal but I have always felt stretch makes a fabric feel cheap. Perhaps higher-end mills like Vitale Barberis Canonico are doing decent stretch cloth, better than the cheap stuff you find at Express, but the perception persists.
Besides comfort, though, is the visual lack of drama that slim fit clothes have. And that’s what that DB brought home to me. The big wide lapels unabashedly did what they’re meant to do—draw your eye outward toward the shoulder, creating the visual impression of width. Other DBs of the day looked apologetic in comparison, with lapels narrowly clinging to the center like some kind of vulnerable animal.
Besides the width of lapels is also the drape of fabric. Every kind of clothing has some kind of drape to it. Even something as simple as a T-shirt can vary wildly depending on how heavy the fabric is and how it fits you. Tailored clothing is engineered specifically to drape over the body in a certain way that emphasizes certain features while visually diminishing others. That’s the reason I love tailoring so much—it’s flattering. A tailored jacket gives the shoulders and upper chest prominence while helping diminish the waist. The length of the jacket magnifies the effect. And tailored trousers make the legs look longer by creating that long vertical line with the ironed-in crease leading all the way up into the jacket’s hem.
But half of the equation is how the fabric hangs. One reason tailoring is more appealing in the cold months is that the heavier fabrics hang so well under their own weight. Lightweight wool in summer flaps in the breeze too easily. Yet on the other hand, linen holds its own appeal because it wrinkles and hangs with its own insouciant attitude. When the cloth has room to drape, not only do you feel more comfortable because you have room to breathe, looks more comfortable because that sense of comfort is palpable. Look at most photos of iconic men wearing tailoring in the past century, and they all look at a ease for this very reason.
But that drama does require someone who’s comfortable embracing it. Wearing clothes that are a little extra in comparison with what people around you are wearing takes some getting used to. This is where style comes in—the practice of wearing what clothes express your own personality best. As you find that, the clothes—drama and all—add a layer of self confidence.
Thankfully, there are companies making clothes that you can buy without having to go bespoke. This spring I picked up a double breasted navy Ring Jacket blazer, which has beautiful wide lapels, a drape-y chest and extended shoulders. Their single breasted TAJ jacket is likewise flattering while comfortable, with some room for drape (just size up one from your normal); The Armoury’s Model 3 and Model 6 jacket made by Ring Jacket both fit the bill as well. Anglo-Italian’s solemn British palette is softened by Italian make and drapes very well. The Neapolitan cut over at Spier & Mackay apes the Italian tradition of tailoring in a product you can afford (made in China). Hong Kong based tailor The Anthology, which I recently reviewed, brings drama through curvaceous lines and handmade flourishes. The outstanding Sartoria Carrara model sold by No Man Walks Alone brings a mature style that’s comfortable, drape-y and flattering. Other off the rack retailers like Cavour and Uncommon Man are mighty fine. Drake’s entire ethos is based around this concept, frankly, and their tailoring is intended to look louche and comfortable.
So whichever brand makes the clothes you like best, let them drape, let them have some drama, and you’ll not only look cooler but be more comfortable.
(Help support this site! If you buy stuff through my links, your clicks and purchases earn me a commission from many of the retailers I feature, and it helps me sustain this site—as well as my menswear habit ;-) Thanks!)
If you’re just getting into tailored menswear and want a single helpful guide to building a trend-proof wardrobe, buy my eBook. It’s only $5 and covers wardrobe essentials for any guy who wants to look cool, feel cool and make a good impression. Formatted for your phone or computer/iPad so it’s not annoying to read, and it’s full of pretty pictures, not just boring prose. Buy it here.
(This article was originally published on Nov. 20, 2020).
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