Knowing Clothes and Clothiers

As usual, the guys at The Armoury get it right. Mark’s recent post about Koji Suzuki of Spigola really got  me thinking about the process of having clothes made, what that process means for the final products, and what it is to know the people making them. Here is what I came up with.

I couldn’t agree more with Mark that one of the great pleasures of meeting a real craftsman is that “through spending some time with them, do you get a better sense for their motivations, what they prioritize in their design, their own thought processes and how they like to work.” While we may know the technical processes that go into stitching a shoe, there are intangibles unique to each individual that make the process unique.

The products then make sense in the context of their maker. Spigola’s shoes, for example, make sense to Mark as the fruits of Koji’s labors. In my own experiences, the shoes of Carreducker, though certainly “directional” in their design, seem just right having spent time with Deborah and James.

Len Logsdail’s clothes carry in them his particular tailoring history, personal passions, and aesthetic preferences, and you can only come to understand these things by spending time with the man himself. No amount of browsing forums and shops can get you this same sense of understanding.

Then there is the experience of using the products themselves. No doubt you could wear a Logsdail suit or Spigola shoes to great avail without any of the above considerations, but with them you get so much more.

You carry with you a part of someone else, fond memories of friends, and something truly unique. Each line and stitch suggests something more than itself. The curve of leather or drape of wool becomes recognizable just as a dear friend’s handwriting in a well-penned letter.

It may be a romanticized notion of craftsmanship and dressing, but it is one that I quite like.

 

Photos via The Armoury