A Suit That Fits Blog

Rule 6: Black tie must be bound by tradition

In a previous post on black tie, one reader commented: “You did a good job of pointing out common ‘sins’ of black tie attire, yet I feel you could explain better why these things are sins. I understand that you might call tradition the entire point of black tie, but I’d be interested in hearing what the actual downsides of breaking these rules would be.” The post can be seen here.

This is a great point. Yes, to a certain extent tradition is the point of black tie. It is one of the few last bastions of dictated dress, where an actual sense of propriety bounds one to wear certain clothes. Beyond some award events, balls and Ascot, nowhere is the modern man restricted one particular mode of dress by his fear of offence.

Whether that is good or bad is debateable. But like all the rules I have described in this series, the rules of black tie are there for practical reasons.

Black tie aims at two things. First, make the man look as smart as possible – to be appropriate to the importance of the occasion. Second, create contrast in material and texture – to create striking effects in dark rooms or under bright lights.

So what makes a man look smart? Well, custom has always been that a shirt is less smart than a jacket. And you can see why; a thicker, less crumpled material in a darker colour.

So keep the amount of shirt on display to a minimum; keep your jacket on and wear a waistcoat or cummerbund to cover the triangle of shirt material that appears below the button. Plus, the messiest part of a man’s shirt tends to be around the waist, where it untucks, and the untidiest part of the trousers is the waist where they fasten.

It is hard to dispute that a long, clean silhouette created by a waistcoat and trousers is smarter than one without the top half.

Other things that make a man look smart are a stiff shirtfront (stiff being smarter than soft) and calf-length silk socks (a smoother texture and no wrinkles).

The second aim of black tie, to create contrast in texture, is achieved by a matte finish to the suit and trousers, contrasting with shiny lapels, trouser seams, bow tie and shoes. Hence the reason for patent pumps or Oxfords. (Also note that the seams to the trousers are covered as this is considered smarter; reveal as few of the fastenings and workings of a suit as possible. Also, this is way the buttons are usually covered in the material of the suit.)

As to my second sin, notch lapels, this holds no practical purpose other than to distinguish black tie from the lounge suit. It is sharper and more rakish. I think it is worth maintaining these differences, but recognise that there is little practical reason for it.

Rule 5: Double-breasted suits add breadth to a man. They should only be worn by those with slim builds.

To reiterate the philosophy behind this series: All rules are there for a reason. They become rules because they have practical advantages. But there’s nothing wrong with breaking them, as long as you understand these practical advantages.

A double-breasted suit adds breadth to a man because it creates horizontal lines. Rather than going straight down, the lapels run across the body. The buttons, whether there are four or six, create horizontal lines as well. They create a box that adds squareness to a man.

The peak lapels also create breadth because they point outwards – no matter how high on the collar they appear, they add another horizontal line across the top of them.

This is all fairly straightforward. Horizontal lines create breadth – just like belts, checks and cuffs on trousers. But consider those lines for a minute and think how their breadth-giving properties could be minimised.

(In other words, consider the practical advantages behind the rule – why they are good for a thin man – and play with them.)

A double-breasted lapel that cuts across the chest and ends at a point above a man’s natural waist (so just above his belly button) will create quite a flat line. But if it ends lower down, buttoning below the natural waist or even on the hips, the line becomes more vertical.

Now narrow the distance between the buttons. The smaller the overlap of the double breast is, the more vertical the line of the lapel will be and the more its broadening effect will be reduced. And the shorter the horizontal line between the buttons will be.

Obviously you don’t want to push this too far, otherwise you might as well have a single-breasted jacket. But slightly adjusting both of these things will make the jacket more slender in a very subtle way.

Lastly, a personal quirk of mine is only having two buttons on a double-breasted suit. So just the two buttons required to fasten the jacket, and no more. It is a little bit individual and it means there is only one horizontal line, not two or three.

So there you go. A double-breasted suit does not necessarily make a man too broad. By lengthening the lapel, making it more vertical and reducing the buttons you can create a double-breasted jacket that a large man can wear and will only give him broad shoulders – not a big stomach.

If you feel like adding a little strength to the stripe in your shirt this summer, the best option is a wider, butcher’s stripe.

Keep the colours simple and ramp up the scale. That creates a look that is classic yet bold.

I particularly recommend a strong stripe like this if you tend to wear your shirt open-necked. There is something a little sad about a shirt that would look so much better with a partnered tie – and yet is denied it. Especially if the lack of decoration around the neck is not made up by colour and pattern in a pocket handkerchief.

Not that the butcher’s stripe cannot be worn with a tie. As long as it is plain in colour, or the pattern is sufficiently different, that’s fine (as in the image – where the spots are sufficiently different and an almost equal scale).

You’d struggle to have a pattern with a bigger scale than the shirt, and even if you did (a widely spaced club stripe, for example) the effect may be for the combination to overwhelm everything – you included.

By the way, it is consistently surprising the assumptions that Americans make about the traditions of Jermyn Street and how they affect men today. In Esquire’s recent Big Black Book, for example, it says: “Bolder stripes are rarely seen in the American workplace. In London’s financial district, it’s the polar opposite. The classic City trader’s shirt might carry half-inch stripes of pink, red, yellow or sky blue.”

I’m not sure the writer has ever worked in the London’s financial district. What he describes may have been the tradition (and how Jermyn Street got started) but it is hardly the case today. Yes, Americans still wear a lot more plain white shirts than us. But there is still a depressing number of Englishmen working in the City that express their personality in their ties and little else.

By the way, because I know you want to know, the butcher’s stripe is so named because it recollects the size of stripe traditionally worn on a butcher’s apron.