DeSantis' outfit here illustrates one of the most common problems with pants—and the one that requires a bit of know-how to fix. So let's talk about it. 🧵
Compare these two people's trousers. Badenoch's trousers fall cleanly, such that there are relatively straight lines going from her trouser band to her hem. DeSantis' trousers, on the other hand, have messy folds all over. What gives?
When most people buy pants, they look at themselves first in the mirror (well, hopefully, at least). When doing so, they are often standing in front of a single-frame mirror, like so:
What they should do is find a three-way mirror, hopefully also with the assistance of a good and honest tailor, fitter, or sales associate (although these are rare nowadays). Three-way mirrors give you a better look at how your outfit looks from various angles.
When you look at yourself in a single-frame mirror, you are only getting a view of yourself from the front (pic 1). But many problems have to do with the back, causing the drag lines and folds you see in pics 2 and 3 here:
Why do these folds occur? It's because clothing manufacturers commonly build their trousers with an overly long back rise. That's the measurement from the center back down to the crotch. They do this so the pants feel comfy to a wider range of body types (no wedgies)
The problem is that most people don't need all this material. Additionally, they stand with what a friend once described as an "auditioning porn star" posture. That means they naturally stand with their hips forward and knees locked. Go ahead—stand up and see if you do this.
I once heard a bespoke tailor suggest this is increasingly common in modern society because people have desk jobs, so their legs are weak. He said his clients who do manual labor have the opposite posture: knees slightly bent and hips back.
When you have a long back rise and stand with your hips back, knees locked, all of that excess material ends up collapsing under your seat and rippling down the back of your legs. That's what you see with DeSantis here.
How to fix this? The best course is to have trousers made for you by a skilled bespoke tailor. See how these trousers fall cleanly.
Unfortunately, bespoke trousers are dearly expensive, commonly around $1k to $1.5k in the US. (Don't scream at me; I didn't set the price)
The more affordable option is to know how to buy better pants. Tips:
1. If you're between sizes, err on the side of bigger. It's easier to take things in than let things out.
2. Know what can be adjusted. Assuming there's enough material, you can let out the waist by 2 inches
It's also relatively easy to taper the legs from the knee down.
3. The most critical part is to look at how the trousers fit around the seat, thighs, and rise. These can be expensive to adjust.
For an overly long back rise, look if there's a lot of inlay along the crotch seam
To fix an overly long back rise, a tailor has to pin the back of the pants up, shortening the rise (see below). However, to make sure you don't get a wedgie, they have to let out the crotch seam. This requires enough inlay along the crotch seam inside the pants.
Cheap pants, such as those from The Gap, won't have a lot of inlay because the manufacturer needed to scrimp on material costs. However, high-end trousers, such as those from Rota, will because there's enough margin.
See the before and after of this alteration. Magic!
If you're in the Bay Area, the best spot for custom trousers is Tailor's Keep in San Francisco. They make fully handmade pants on-premise for $1.5k. I know, the price is crazy, but they're a diamond in the rough. My pants from them are better than what I've gotten on Savile Row.
They also have a made-to-measure program for $650. These have as much handwork as bespoke (buttonholes, pick stitch, internal waistband), but are not made in-house. Lots of room for adjustment: rise, thigh, waist, and seat, along with posture and body type (full seat, flat seat)
Ultimately, you have to find your own fit challenges and figure out solutions. But when buying tailored trousers (and these concepts only apply to tailored trousers, not jeans), check to see if everything falls cleanly. Aim for the fit on the left, not the right.
This tweet should say, "when you stand with your hips forward and knees locked," not "hips back." The problem of an overly long back rise is made worse when you stand like an "auditioning porn star," as my friend put it.
Not true. Both Joe Biden and Gavin Newsom wear ready-to-wear or factor-made clothes produced on a block pattern.
I'll show you how I know. 🧵
First, what do you notice about this jacket?
For me, the glaring issue is how far the sleeve comes down.
In a 1966 essay titled "The Secret Vice," Tom Wolfe wrote about men obsessed with custom tailoring. He talked about "marginal differences" such as working buttonholes.
On first glance, you may be impressed but not know why.
The reason is deceptively simple: they hang pin straight. This is more obvious when you compare them to trousers that don't hang so cleanly.
It's not easy to get trousers to hang this straight. There are a few reasons for this.
First, if you were to take off all your clothes and look in the mirror (do this privately, not on the internet), you'll notice your body is not perfectly symmetrical.
As some may know, my family is from Vietnam. My parents fled Saigon shortly after the Tet Offensive, as bombs were falling around them and they weren't sure what was going to happen once the North Vietnamese took over the city.
When my dad left Vietnam, he wasn't able to take much with him — just some family photos of life back home, some clothes, and a 1960s Rolex Datejust he bought as a present for himself. Growing up, I always saw my dad wear this watch. It was basically part of his body.
Earlier this year, it was reported that JD Vance has a tailor in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was a charming story about an Italian immigrant named Romualdo Pelle, who has worked as a tailor since he immigrated to the US in 1960.
Watch the story very closely. What do you notice?
Those familiar with tailoring will see something very peculiar:
In the 19th century, gentlemen wore black frock coats or tailcoats with a white shirt and dark waistcoat. As the frock coat gave way to the suit, the white linen shirt — a mark of respectability and propriety — remained.
For much of the 20th century, this was the standard uniform of the American male that sat at any social station above blue collar. And even then, blue collar people often wore these clothes to churches and weddings.
A couple of weeks ago, Trump struggled with a broken umbrella as he boarded Air Force One.
Let me tell you how we got to this point — and the tragic downfall of the noble umbrella. 🧵
It's hard to imagine now, but it was once controversial for a man to carry an umbrella. The modern umbrella's progenitor, of course, is the parasol, which 18th century French women carried to preserve their light-colored skin (at the time, a mark of class and status).
British men considered the accessory too French, too foreign, and most importantly, too effeminate. That was until 1756, when Jonas Hanway, an upper-class philanthropist, started to carry a waterproofed version around London to protect himself from the rain.