晚上11:24
Ichihiro
Jonathan Heaf charts the evolution of the suit from workaday drudgery to everyday style.
The humble, honest, hard working-suit: man's armour, a shield of fabric and cloth; a guy's sartorial stalwart; a defence against early-morning wardrobe indecision; a protection against any tendency to dress like an off-duty cricketer; a wingman to protect against the inability to dress one's age.
School, however, can mar the initial introduction to the suit. The uniform I had to wear between the ages of 12 and 18, a navy structured blazer twinned with a pair of gravel-rough charcoal trousers, left me thinking that all a suit achieved was iron out any hint of personality. When you're a kid, suits aren't cool or erudite, savvy or sharp. Suits are fusty. Suits are tired.
Then you discover rock and roll. For me, it was watching The Strokes perform live at the Oxford Zodiac in 2002, the band's first ever live performance on British soil. Looking stage right, playing rhythm guitar, was the frizzy haired Albert Hammond Jr, a musician so sharp, so well-dressed, he looked like a poster boy for everything I ever wanted to be. And, you know what? He was wearing a suit.
And that's how it starts. You head out the following weekend in a blazer, a skinny black tie, a narrow pair of strides, a pair of old Church'sbrogues. Before you can say 'throwback', you're ferreting among the second-hand shops under the arches in Camden, trying on bashed-up Paul Smith three-pieces from the 70s. Buying your first suit is a rite of passage: confidence-building and cathartic, to the extent that you promise yourself you'll never wear anything else ever again.
Today, the suit has never been more fashionable. Just look at someone like super-producer Mark Ronson. His music may be middle-of-the-road karaoke for the cool kids - but his sartorial choices are as sharp as a knife-edge. Of course, we aren't all maverick producers with a black Amex, and thankfully, the high street has finally come up trumps with a selection of cheap cheats for the dapper man about town. Where better to find them than in London, home of Savile Rowand Burton, who brought the off-the-peg suit to the post-war masses?
Head to Japanese favourite Uniqlo and you'll be able to pick up a great, two-button, two-piece suit for well under £100 (£69.98). For a bigger chunk of change you'll find great-looking suits at Burton (three-piece for £130), River Island (two-piece from £119.98) and Ted Baker (two-piece from £300). If you're looking for something more fitted you can't do any better than head to COS. Its taupe cotton suits are stylish, sleek and available in a palette of soft hues that won't have your friends thinking you're out to audit them (COS separates, blazers from £129; trousers from £55).
Button up and be a man. Frugally.
Jonathan Heaf is senior commissioning editor at British GQ
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