Sexy Life Style

Richard Anderson can write. This quickly becomes apparent as the reader embarks on the story of his time on Savile Row – from dishevelled apprentice to Huntsman’s youngest-ever head cutter. The realisation that a book is to be chronological, and start at the very beginning, is normally accompanied by a long intake of breath. Fortunately, even the description of Anderson’s father taking his 17-year old to the job interview is entertaining.

It helps that the story of Huntsman’s takeover reads like a genuine thriller, with high stakes, espionage and betrayal. And throughout the 20-odd years described, characters such as Colin Hammick, Brian Hall and Dick Lakey necessarily breed amusing anecdotes. Such as the time Lakey tried to rescue 10 pairs of white trousers by washing them at home, only for the zips to stain the crotch; then adding lemon, only for it to add its own mark; and then successfully washing them clean, only for foxes to tear them off the washing line and eat them.

But Anderson’s writing has its own rhythm and pathos. A liking for short, one-sentence paragraphs and chapter-ending cliff hangers means the story tumbles along.

The latter sections on Richard Anderson Ltd, after the fall of Huntsman, are nowhere near as self-serving as I had been led to believe. The style switches from chronology to analysis, enabling short sections on women in the industry, a day in the life and ready-to-wear clothing in Japan. The second of these three chapters is particularly interesting for an insight into the running of a bespoke firm, and the challenges in figuration, for example, that come up every day. Such as the wadding, canvas, styrofoam and even plasticine used to try and deal with James Fox’s tricky shoulders.

And while some will bemoan the fact that suits under Savile Row names are made in Japanese factories for local clients, the description of how this functions is fascinating.

For tailoring enthusiasts there are several insightful sections on the practice of cutting. The description of how Anderson learned to cut trousers for the first time, for example, and then later how to take measurements ahead of his first trip to the US. Indeed, for those not enthused by technical detail the passages where Hall describes the chalking of back and foreparts could even be too much.

There is, finally, a surprisingly in-depth glossary. I can now identify a bar tack, describe the nap on various cloths and relate the origins of Silesia (named after a region of Poland because of the inventor’s wife’s sympathies for a country being partitioned between Germany, Austria and Russia. The descriptions only suffer from the inevitable difficulty in describing the look and feel of different cloths without imagery.

Highly recommended.

I discovered an interesting aspect of figuration today, while being measured for a new suit. (Figuration being the process where a tailor adapts a suit to your particular bodily quirks – the steps beyond just making sure the shoulders are the right width.)

The tailor pointed out that I have a slight stoop forward, slightly prominent shoulder blades, a hollowed lower back (partly due to being slim) and a large seat. If you can imagine that effect down the line of my back, it produces a S-shape – exaggerated curves caused by the shoulder blades and bum, with a hollow in between.

Most other suits I have follow the line of my back, meaning that the rear of the skirt kicks out a little over my bum. To correct this and mitigate the S-shape, a little more fullness will be added in the small of my back with this suit. But a little will be taken out of the front too, so that the waist size remains the same. Effectively, the lower half of the jacket will be swung backwards a touch.

On my previous suit I had also noticed that the collar stood away slightly from the back of my neck. A fairly obvious fault. But it was also pointed out this time that, when I looked at the suit from the front, this standing away was most prominent on the right of my neck.

This, it seems, was because I leant ever-so-slightly to the right, as well as a little forward. That was noticeable both at the neck but also below my right arm, where the cloth collapses a little between the waist and scye. Rebalancing the suit a little, so it is slightly lower on that right side, should correct this.

Both of these are aspects of fit that I have never noticed before, but of course now will not be able to ignore. Like the day after I had my first bespoke shirt fitted, and realised all my shirts had a slightly short left arm.

These are the pleasures of bespoke, such as they are. Every time you improve one facet of fit, you discover another that is wrong.

I admire tailors and shirtmakers for being able to spot these little things. But I do wish they’d stagger pointing them out to me.