What A Difference a Half Inch Makes

First things first: if you read this entry's title and didn't immediately think, "That's what she said," we will clearly never be friends. This is the kind of in-depth sartorial analysis you've come to know from DLAMGD.

In the world of tailoring, a half inch is a mile. This lesson was reinforced for me a few days ago when I picked up a navy sport jacket from my tailor; I bought it a few months back and had the sleeves shortened immediately; I literally walked from the store to the tailor. In a rare instance of imperfection, this tailor left the sleeves about a half inch too long, rendering the garment non-wearable.

I finally got around to bringing it back to him, and the difference is astounding (please pardon the lighting in the pictures). You can finally see the bit of requisite shirt cuff at all times, and it's amazing how much more I enjoy wearing clothes that are properly altered. The lesson here is that if your clothes don't fit perfectly, you're missing out on being flush with confidence in your appearance, which is part of what dressing well is all about. A nice suit might feel good, but a perfectly fitted suit feels like the most elegant suit of armor you could ever don.

The details matter. Get thee to a tailor.

My First Suspension

There are quite a few sartorial rules and guidelines that apply to all men: belts match shoes, socks match pants, ties should have dimples, and a million others. When you dig a little deeper, however, you learn that there are principles that flatter certain body types while accentuating the negative aspects of others. You've heard many of these categorizations before: tall, slim, athletic, portly, stout, and average are all common words to describe men's body types.

At 5'4" and about 125 pounds, I fall into the "short and slim" category. While any competent dresser can theoretically get away with wearing anything he pleases, there are some things that will emphasize my smaller stature and others that will work to minimize it. For example, I can't wear super large-scale patterns; they swallow me up and make me look smaller than I actually am. On the other hand, my body type displays tight, small-scale patterns to their best advantage because they don't have much ground to cover on my small frame.

Another concept that serves me well is the one where maximizing height is paramount. Pinstripes are awesome for me, because they draw the viewer's eye up and down, creating the illusion of height and therefore the illusion that I'm not just smashingly handsome but also maybe, you know, 5'6" or something. On the other hand, horizontal lines work against me, but I wear one nearly every day when I throw on a belt and effectively cut my body in half.

The solution to this issue? I had suspender buttons sewn into my suit pants (never use clip-on suspenders), and I picked up the braces you see above. For years I've been wary of wearing them because they're either too old mannish, affected, or just silly-looking, but I was wrong. Not only do they add two more vertical lines to the ensemble, but they're far more comfortable than a belt could ever be. With suspenders, your pants hang from your shoulders, not your waist. I can reach for things and my shirt doesn't come untucked, and my waistband isn't cinched around me like a twist-tie. Bonuses all around.

Perhaps most importantly, I've grown to appreciate the classic look of suspenders and find them playful and a little quirky, at least on a guy my age. They add another layer of visual interest that a belt simply doesn't provide, and I'll always relish the opportunity to coordinate something with a tie. I just need to round out the collection with ten or so more pairs and I'm set.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

An old middle school buddy of mine named Matt offered up a suggestion a while back by saying, "You should do a post on what shorts to wear. Also, tell dudes to stop wearing those giant cargo shorts from the early 2000's." Ask and ye shall receive, sir. First things first, here's a primer for what makes for a good pair of shorts.

As I've discussed before, the most important aspect of looking good is how your clothes fit. You can spend $30 on a well-fitted t-shirt and jeans outfit and look great, and you can just as easily spend $2,000 on an ill-fitting suit and look like hell (well, maybe not just as easily). Shorts, like bathing suits, are not exempt from this rule. They should fit snugly but not tightly around your waist and the inseam should end about 2"-5" above your kneecap (shorter inseam for smaller guys, longer inseam for bigger guys). An important rule that's often ignored is that the circumference of the leg opening should be relatively slim as well. If the circumference of your thigh is eighteen inches, then the short's legs should be, well, not much more than eighteen inches.

Material for shorts should generally be limited to linen or cotton, oftentimes khaki or chambray. Denim shorts are for children. As far as color and pattern is concerned, I suggest that you have a couple of basics like dark blue and tan, but branch out as far as you're comfortable. White, light blue, yellow, or mauve shorts? Hell yes. Crazy Bermuda and patchwork madras shorts? Indeed; so long as they're paired with a solid shirt, you're in business. Sockless feet tend to look better with shorts, and you can buy socks that are more or less invisible from Banana Republic and H&M.

Second things second, I'd like to accommodate Matt's other request and type it for all to see:

Dudes, stop wearing those giant cargo shorts from the early 2000's. If you have that much stuff to carry, get a messenger bag.

Finally, when I was in Greece there was a guy who had drawstrings at the hem of his shorts. He'd pull the legs up high and tighten the drawstrings to the max. I have no idea how the physics of this worked out, but doing so caused the shorts' legs to shamelessly place his junk front and center for all to see. If you have to ask how or why this is poor form, I'm not sure anyone will ever be able to help you.

The Banana Hammock Debate

I just got back to the States about a week ago after having spent two weeks in Greece. It was amazing; I got to see my girlfriend after two months apart, leave the country for the first time since 2004, be on an archaeological dig, learn about seven Greek words, and finally hit up a beach with the new swim trunks I bought.

Admittedly, it's been about three years since I've been on an American beach, but judging from what you can find in stores, the styles for men's bathing suits haven't changed much. Brands like American Apparel sell trunks cut high so that they actually allow the wearer to get some sun on his pasty-ass thighs. This is the style that I purchased, and I like them because not only do I have pasty-ass thighs, but they also hearken back to ancient times, the 1970's, when American men viewed showing off their bodies as a simple masculine pride thing, not a symptom of the gay gene.

Unfortunately, the market is still dominated by the surfer-dude board short phenomenon. These are the bathing suit equivalent of capri pants, and they make no sense. Unless you have a sun allergy, why would you want to cover up so much skin? Furthermore, if you're over the age of 16, why the hell would you want skulls and flames on them, like the ridiculous Ed Hardy shorts pictured above?

European men generally have the right idea. Sure, there were some young guys wearing past-the-knee Billabong board shorts, but most embraced a shorter trunk. Some, however, took things too far. The picture I posted above is an exaggeration only insofar as no one wears a crucifix like Flava Flav wore a clock around his neck. Even on the minority of men who look like they've been chiseled out of stone, the banana hammock is just too much for my taste. While it's not the only style of bathing suit that puts one's moose knuckle front and center (too-tight trunks can do that as well), it's certainly the silhouette that draws the most attention to it. On men who are a bit softer around the middle, it does nothing to balance out their body size, making them look like they're wearing something two sizes too small.

In summation: go for a trunk that hits at about mid-thigh. Wear darker trunks with longer legs if you're a bigger guy, but still keep them a couple inches above your knee. The sun gods will be pleased.

Speaking of Shoes...

I picked up the blue suede shoes you see above over a year ago. I justified the purchase to myself in a few ways. First, I was out of town visiting a friend on a mini-vacation, so I felt like spending a little bit of cash. Second, they were on sale. Third, while I have a shoe collection so expansive and to which I'm so attached that my poor girlfriend probably wonders if I'd save them in a house fire before her, I didn't own any colored shoes.* It seemed like a good time to take the plunge.

As I stated in my previous entry, shoes can make or break an outfit. It's certainly a good idea to have a small collection in your closet: black dress, brown dress, a couple of casual shoes, some athletic sneakers, and a pair of sandals are enough to get most people by. Lately though, colorful shoes have become very popular for men and can make the difference between a bland outfit and a fun, more interesting one.

That's exactly what these camp moccasins do: provide a fun, light-hearted alternative to your run-of-the-mill footwear. Case in point: I wore these with rolled up light tan khakis and a slim-fitting pink polo shirt. Any casual shoe could have worked, from a brown penny loafer to a white sneaker. The blue, on the other hand, offers a pop of color in an otherwise minimally colorful dimension. Instant swag.

Try it out for yourself, but only if you're comfortable spending the money and, more importantly, if you already have the basics of your shoe wardrobe covered. There's no sense building a house with the attic first, and the same goes for your shoe collection.

*Is it better to say "shoes of color?" I'm stumped on this one.

Oh My God Shoes

I received this question a few days ago and have edited it for clarity but not content:

"I'm going to a wedding Saturday and need a new pair of shoes to go with my grey suit pants. Went to DSW and narrowed it down to two pairs of black shoes. Both are very similar, both slip-on leather loafers (no laces, no frills etc), also both are the same price: $65-$69. The question is, what do I get?

Pair #1. Bostonian brand. Ultra-light, flexible, rubber-soled, feels like a cloud on your feet. These are standard dress shoes that I could wear all night and they would be satisfactory.
Pair #2. Italian leather, originally $250, snug, wooden-soled shoe. When I say snug, I don't mean uncomfortable per se, but you can tell its a dress shoe (versus the floating-on-a-cloud Bostonians).

The snob in me is saying, "Get the Italian ones"; they will be stylish and you will look sharp. But the practical side of me says go with the Bostonians. They are still good, no-nonsense shoes, and if I hadn't seen the Italian ones they would be fine. Do I go for Italian leather or exquisite comfort? Also, how much work is a wooden-soled shoe? Am I going to go out one winter and completely ruin them? Does Italian leather stretch?"

Jesus Christ, where the hell do I start?

First, thanks for reading. Let me make a probable correction and tell you that these "wooden-soled" Italian shoes you're talking about are likely leather soles; wooden soles are rare nowadays and are only used in clogs and summer shoes. Also, any leather, Italian or not, will stretch and crease. To negate this, you must polish your shoes regularly and frequently (once a month will usually do just fine) and keep cedar shoe trees in your shoes whenever they're not on your feet. Additionally, don't wear dress shoes out in wintry weather if you can avoid it. I don't care of you spent $1,000 on a pair of leather shoes, they will get jacked up in the snow or rain. Snow boots were invented for a reason.

I haven't seen either shoe so I can't make a proper judgement call, but based on the information you've given me, the Italian loafer is the way to go. There's no difference in current selling price (though you tend to get what you pay for with footwear, and $250 original retail price leads me to believe that the Italian pair are likely higher quality), and while the Bostonians feel like you're walking on a cloud, you said yourself that the Italian pair wasn't uncomfortable, but that "you can tell it's a dress shoe."

And there's the rub. Dress shoes, by definition, have leather soles. That's one of the aesthetic details that sets them apart from their more casual counterparts, which generally have rubber soles. Rubber-soled "dress" shoes are a sartorial oxymoron. Can you get a way with wearing them? Of course, plenty of men do. Will you look polished, elegant, and dapper? Nope. Unless you have some kind of foot injury or are comfortable looking like a 22-year old college grad on his first job interview, all of your dress shoes must have leather soles.

George Frazier, a columnist for Esquire back in the 60's once wrote, "Wanna know if a guy is well-dressed? Look down." The shoes that a man decides to wear will make or break his entire outfit and speak volumes about his sense of style. Assuming proper fit and the like, good shoes will give life to jeans and a white t-shirt, while bad shoes can make a $2,000 suit look like hell. Choose wisely.

A Case of Extremes

I love my new iPhone. I've had it for about a month, and every day I'm blown away by its capabilities. In a span of five minutes, I can be playing Angry Birds while listening to Internet radio on my Pandora app and be interrupted to respond to a text message about whether or not I received an e-mail on which I was copied. For a phone, it also has a pretty sweet camera feature that allows me to take a snapshot of something whenever the opportunity arises to do so. Hence, the photo you see above (I've covered the subject's face in both a fake mustache and a seemingly all-too-appropriate American flag icon, courtesy of picnik.com). Forgive the fuzziness; I'm a crap photographer and you people will just have to deal with that.

Anyone who rides public transportation regularly knows that it offers ample opportunity to see some full-blown ridiculousness. Sure, there's the standard fare: the guy who's been running the same "I have cancer and need money for medicine" bit for a decade now, and there are plenty of people hawking "CD's, DVD's, incense, and body oils" to passersby. More interestingly, I've also seen breakdancing trios and a cappella groups on subways, and I've drunkenly watched an elderly, insane homeless woman hurl change at people on a bus only to witness her exit that bus at the next stop and see her pants fall down, exposing her bare ass to everyone else unfortunate enough to be on a SEPTA vehicle at three in the morning.

But I digress. After I got over the initial shock of seeing the guy in this photo, I realized that this outfit is an extreme case of mixing two complete sartorial opposites. One way Dictionary.com defines camouflage as "a device or stratagem used for concealment." In other words, wearing camo is supposed to allow the wearer to avoid being spotted, to blend in so well that he or she becomes nearly invisible. Donning a pink wig, on the other hand, has the complete opposite effect of camouflage and stands out even more with that as its backdrop. It screams for attention and will do nothing to help you blend in with your surroundings. There's no doubt in my mind that this man's enemies will spot him easily.

The lesson here? Feel free to blend the high and the low, but don't go crazy with it. Jeans and a tie can certainly look great together, but sweatpants and a suit jacket are a different story. If it's attention you crave, blending sartorial extremes is a good way to get it. It's negative attention, however, and it's important to remember that you'll be looked upon as misguided or foolish as opposed to well-dressed. Everything in moderation, folks.