As Mae West said, if you keep a diary, some day it may keep you. Or in my case, clothe you.
I’m writing this in a brand new bespoke cashmere suit. Wool & cashmere, to be precise, but the cashmere’s definitely there. Just as Alan Partridge shouted ‘Cashback!’ as an exclamation of joy, I hereby nominate a dandy variation: ‘Cashmere!’
The suit is a gift from Charlie Collingwood, a young tailor who’s just set up his own business in London, Henry Herbert. ‘No charge,’ he said when he wrote to me. ‘But it’d be nice if you could say something about us in your blog. Assuming you like the suit, that is.’
Turns out that if you Google ‘London’ and ‘tailors’ and ‘suits’ – or something like that – you get my diary pretty high up in the results. I often forget my own marketing value, and that I’m known as a London suit-wearer.
(By the way, Googling me today reveals I apparently co-wrote an article on John Mortimer in the Independent. It says so on IMDB. A few more clicks, and it turns out I was in fact quoted by the newspaper in a ‘what the blogs say’ piece on his death.)
So: my new cashmere suit. After Charlie got in touch, he measured me up in his Savile Row office then let me choose the fabric from a selection of swatch books, along with the lining. I felt I needed a ‘dinner party and premieres’ number in black, and hadn’t had cashmere before, so I went for that, along with the usual bespoke tailor’s options: choosing the shape of pockets, number of buttons on the jacket and cuffs, type of vent at the back of the jacket, turn-ups on the trousers or not, and so on.
A few weeks after that he called me in so I could try on the ‘baste’. This is the draft version of the suit, with dotted white lines around the stitching as seen in umpteen old movies. Not all modern tailors do the baste process, so I was rather delighted by this bit in itself. Another six weeks or so later, the suit arrived in a bespoke cardboard box, illustrated with dozens of silhouettes of vintage-looking besuited men in various poses: hailing taxis, reading newspapers, but also typing at a laptop. And above all, getting the vintage feeling just right: stylish and timeless rather than twee.
Charlie’s two key selling points, his friendliness aside, are his use of entirely British-sourced materials, along with the fact that he delivers them via scooter, in true Quadrophenia Mod style.
There’s a feature on him in the Evening Standard here. http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/lifestyle/article-23763311-the-london-businesses-being-run-from-a-scooter.do
Henry Herbert Tailors have a website, and a Twitter account: http://www.henryherbert.com/
I’ve been wearing the suit for a few weeks now. It’s a work of beauty. I would ask strangers to stroke me and feel the cashmere-iness, if such a request didn’t risk misinterpretation. Hooray for Henry Herbert. May their scooters go forth and beautify.
I’m writing this in a brand new bespoke cashmere suit. Wool & cashmere, to be precise, but the cashmere’s definitely there. Just as Alan Partridge shouted ‘Cashback!’ as an exclamation of success, I hereby nominate a dandy variation: ‘Cashmere!’
The suit is by Charlie Collingwood, a young tailor who’s just set up his own business in London, Henry Herbert. Â ‘It’d be nice if you could say something in your blog. Assuming you like the suit, that is.’
Can’t argue with that. Turns out that if you Google ‘London’ and ‘tailors’ and ‘suits’ – or something like that – you get my diary pretty high up in the results. Though I’m hardly going to turn this into a full-on review blog, it’s nice to occasionally be of some use to doers and makers I approve of.
(By the way, Googling me today reveals I apparently co-wrote an article on John Mortimer in the Independent. It says so on IMDB. A few more clicks, and it turns out I was in fact quoted by the newspaper in a ‘what the blogs say’ piece on his death.)
So: my new cashmere suit. Charlie first measured me up in his Savile Row office then let me choose the fabric from a selection of swatch books, along with the lining. I felt I needed a ‘dinner party and premieres’ number in black, and hadn’t had cashmere before, so I went for that, along with the usual bespoke tailor’s options: choosing the shape of pockets, number of buttons on the jacket and cuffs, type of vent at the back of the jacket, turn-ups on the trousers or not, and so on.
A few weeks after that he called me in so I could try on the ‘baste’. This is the draft version of the suit, with dotted white lines around the stitching as seen in umpteen old movies. Not all modern tailors do the baste process, so I was rather delighted by this bit in itself. Another six weeks or so later, the suit arrived in a bespoke cardboard box, illustrated with dozens of silhouettes of vintage-looking besuited men in various poses: hailing taxis, reading newspapers, but also typing at a laptop. And above all, getting the vintage feel just right: stylish, timeless, versatile.
Charlie’s two key selling points, his friendliness aside, are his use of entirely British-sourced materials, along with the fact that he delivers them via scooter, in true Quadrophenia Mod style.
There’s a feature on him in the Evening Standard here.
Henry Herbert Tailors have a website at www.henryherbert.com, with a Twitter account here.
I’ve been wearing the suit for a few weeks now. It’s a work of beauty. I’d ask strangers to stroke me and feel the cashmere-iness of it, if such a request didn’t risk misinterpretation.
Hooray for Henry Herbert. May their scooters go forth and beautify.
Tags:
henry herbert,
London,
tailors
