There's a common misconception that clothes made in the United States or Western Europe are "good" and clothes made in low-cost countries such as China are "bad." Let's talk about it. đź§µ
In 1965, Robert Schooler conducted an experiment. He gave 200 university students swatches of the same beige fabric—a plain weave made from a 80/20 mixture of cotton-linen. The swatches were identical except in one regard: the country of origin label.
One swatch was labeled "made in Mexico," another said "made in Guatemala," and the others bore names of other Latin American countries (e.g., Costa Rica, El Salvador, etc). Students were asked to evaluate the quality of these fabrics.
The swatches were cut from the same cloth, so they were identical. But as you can guess, students read differences that were not there, often born from prejudices of these countries. Schooler's findings were published in an academic journal and spawned a new area of research.
When discussing country-of-origin labels, we should first recognize the complexity of production, which today is global. Sheep can be reared in Australia, their hairs spun into yarn in Scotland, the fabric woven in China, and then the material is finished in England.
That's just for the fabric. For a tailored jacket, consider the global supply chain for buttons, padding, canvassing, haircloth, threads, lining, and assembly (which can also include patternmaking, cutting, sewing, etc).
Country of origin labels don't capture this complexity.
Countries also differ on how they regulate labeling. In Italy, a garment can almost be entirely made abroad and then finished in Italy to quality for a "made in Italy" label. In the US, rules are stricter, but few people check, so a lot of mislabeling goes unnoticed.
But let's get into the specific claims. Does a country of origin label tell you anything about whether an item is high quality, made with fair wages, or isn't just fast fashion?
I will address these claims in reverse order. First, many people misuse the term fast fashion to mean "cheap clothing" when it in fact refers to a specific mode of production. I will not rehash this here but instead direct you to read this thread below.
Once you understand what is "fast fashion," you can more accurately identify it on the market. And when you peer inside some of these garments, you may find a "made in USA" tag. These Fashion Nova jeans—which are fast fashion—were made in Los Angeles' garment district.
These jeans can be made in the US because of a system called piecerate, which pays workers per operation instead of how much time they work. This allows factories to run as sweatshops and sidestep labor laws (including min wage). From my piece in The Nation:
Such factories are quite common. In 2016, the US Federal Dept of Labor found that 85% of the Los Angeles garment factories in their sample were violating wage laws, which resulted in $1.3 million back wages owed to 865 workers. Conditions were deplorable.
Shopping high-end doesn't necessarily guarantee fair wages or ethical conditions either. Some of the Italian factories that produce for well-known luxury names have violated labor laws. This has been a continual issue in Italian fashion. A headline from Business of Fashion:
OK, what about quality? Fifty years ago, I would have agreed with you: Clothes made in the US and Western Europe were generally better than their Chinese counterparts. But much has changed.
A friend of mine is a bespoke tailor, Senior Vice President of one of the largest US suit factories, and the president of a trade organization for designers and tailors. He had this to say about Chinese production in 2011:
Here's Antonio Ciongoli, founder of 18 East and former Ralph Lauren designer, talking about J. Crew, which is mostly made in China:
"The call outs of bad quality always highlight to me just how little most people know about what real quality actually looks like."
Some of the best garment production nowadays is being done in China. For instance, these RRL shawl collar cardigans have no peer. They are hand-knitted using unique silk-linen yarns that have tremendous depth.
Here are bespoke, hand-tailored garments from Atelier BRIO Pechino, a small tailoring operation based in Beijing. This is levels above most tailoring operations in the United States—certainly any made-to-measure shop, but even most bespoke (of what's left in the US)
It's even better than Loro Piana. Here's a cashmere Loro Piana Roadster jacket—one of their flagship products—produced after the company was acquired by LVMH. Notice the pocket construction. Suede trim under flap is purely decorative.
On this bespoke BRIO sport coat—made from Loro Piana cashmere-silk fabric—the suede trim has been added to the pocket's top edge. This stops the edge from fraying, which is useful in high-traffic areas like a pocket when the material is delicate. Adding this takes skilled work.
The questions should always be: Can you spot quality? Do you know the different components that go into quality production? Can you spot the difference between full grain vs corrected grain leather, Goodyear welt vs glued on sole? Do you know the length of the fibers in the yarn?
It's important to recognize that non-Western countries often hold within them rich craft traditions. In India, there are textile weavers and printers who are engaging in techniques no longer possible in the UK (as well as their own local traditions). This craft is beautiful.
US production is not always great. When Brooks Brothers owned the Garland Shirt Company, which was based in Garland, North Carolina, they brought in consultants from their overseas Asia partner, TAL. Garland was just not running right, and they needed TAL's help.
Many brands privately tell me that US factories are lacking in some way—poor quality control, lack of skilled labor, not enough tech upgrades, etc. The Asian-made counterparts are often better.
Of course, there's also a lot of bad stuff that comes out of China, such as SHEIN.
When thinking about quality, fast fashion, and labor, we should address them directly and not collapse them into county-of-origin labels. There are good and bad things made everywhere. Using tariffs in this way is just old school protectionism and prejudice.
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Most people think of black tie as the most formal kind of menswear, but technically speaking, it's semi-formal evening attire. Historically, men wore this kind of outfit to dinner or evening shows, such as going to the opera or ballet. Or celebrations such as NYE parties.
White tie is true formalwear. It differs from black tie primarily in how it requires a long tailcoat (black tie originated when men cut the tails off their coats to create a more casual garment for dinner). Also requires a white waistcoat, white tie, and wing collar.
If you're interested in bespoke tailoring and based in the United States, I have some trunk show announcements to share with you. Since Twitter recently changed their formatting options, I will be doing this as a thread. đź§µ
Matthew Gonzalez
There's a long history of cross-border influence and immigration in tailoring, but as far as I know, Matthew Gonzalez is the first American to operate under his own banner on Savile Row. Born and raised in Southern California, he moved to London about twenty years ago to pursue a degree in bespoke tailoring from the London College of Fashion. Thereafter, he climbed the ranks — moving from undercutter at Thom Sweeney to cutter at Dunhill and eventually Huntsman, where he achieved his longtime goal of cutting on Savile Row.
Today, he runs his own firm, where he merges his California sensibility with his training in British bespoke craftsmanship. He recently told me he admires a photo of JFK staring out of a window. The President dressed in a dark worsted suit, white button-up shirt, and dark silk necktie, but everything about the photo looks very casual and relaxed. This, he told me, is what American style means to him.
Gonzalez cuts suits and sport coats inspired by that mid-century American tailoring, although he's adamant about not wanting the clothes to look like historical costumes. Thus, while the jackets have a soft, natural shoulder line, he sticks with front darts and prefers side vents (rather than the dartless front and hook vent characteristic of Ivy Style). The lapels have a moderate width and minimal belly (the curve sometimes distinguishing an older style of British tailoring). The garments are designed so they can be teamed with a dress shirt and tie, or something more casual such as a chambray button-up.
Given Gonzalez's penchant for slightly more relaxed, casual attire, it's no surprise that he also offers made-to-measure suede jackets, wool-cashmere shawl collar cardigans, and denim Western shirts (made without the contrast stitching, so they look more at home with tailoring). He's also one of the few bespoke tailors I've met who "gets it" when it comes to the polo coat, arguably the most iconic of American overcoat styles. Gonzalez tells me he thinks a polo coat should have letter box patch pockets, a half belt, gauntlet cuffs, an inverted back pleat, and a center button vent. But crucially, he also thinks the split-sleeves should be made with a lapped seam. To my eye, this makes the garment more casual and sporty—truer to its original roots—and allows the tailor to shape the sleevehead.
Consider Gonzalez if you share the same sensibilities: a love for classic American tailoring, but a suspicion of styles that are too anachronistic, and a bias towards clothes that feel more relaxed and casual. The point about Gonzalez using a split-sleeve with a lapped seam demonstrates that he takes care of details that may not occur to a client, but will be appreciated years down the road.
Taillour
In bespoke tailoring, there's a generally accepted rule that most clients would do well to observe: choose a company based on their house style and stay close to it. The term "house style" refers to the tailor's established methods, which combine to create clothes with a distinguishable fit and feel. Just as you wouldn't order burritos from a ramen chef, you shouldn't ask an English tailor for an Italian jacket (or vice versa).
Taillour is one of the few exceptions. Co-founder and head cutter Fred Nieddu has worked in the bespoke tailoring industry for decades, cutting for firms such as Thom Sweeney and even teaching pattern drafting courses at the London College of Fashion. A good percentage of his current workload involves making clothes for films and TV shows. In fact, you may have seen his creations. He made all the menswear for the Netflix series The Crown, the suits in the film The Phoenician Scheme, and one of the colorful costumes for Wonka. Given this experience, he's more flexible than most tailors regarding what he's willing and able to make.
Still, I think it's always a good idea to stay close to the house style. I think of Taillour's house style as very soft but architectural in its lines. Nieddu uses a full body canvas and only a bit of laptair near the wearer's collar bone to prevent the jacket from sinking. The shoulders are minimally padded, giving the garments a very light feel. While Neapolitan tailors are known for a similar construction, Taillour's jackets have a bit more room and shape. The shoulder line is very straight, and the chest is slightly full. When combined with those characteristically straight lapels and larger jacket collar, I find Taillour's jackets have an angular appearance reminiscent of Apparel Arts drawings.
Consider Nieddu if you want a tailor who's a bit more flexible in terms of what they're willing to make (although, again, I recommend tweaking at the margins, not bringing in a photo of something and asking for it to be copied). He has also made clothes for women, which will be useful if you're looking for someone who can make a women's suit, sport coat, or overcoat.
Summer is around the corner and soon you'll read a bunch of tweets about how every man should have a pair of loafers.
I don't think anyone needs anything, but if you're shopping for a pair, let me show you how to think about loafers. This applies to any wardrobe item. đź§µ
When it comes to choosing loafers, a simple answer will go something like this: "Such-and-such brand makes the best pairs." Or "Here's a hierarchy of loafers." IMO, such approaches are reductive and often devolve into trend or status pursuits.
Let me show you another approach.
As always, it's helpful to start at the beginning.
There are a few origin stories for loafers, but most lead back to Norway. If menswear lore is to be believed, then the penny loafer comes from a simple slip-on shoe known as the teser, which was once worn by Norwegian peasants.
Someone asked if I could tell them where to buy a pair of good chinos. In this thread, I will tell you, but my answer is not simple. On the upside, I think this is a better approach when shopping for clothes and you can apply it to any kind of item. đź§µ
A simple answer will go something like this: "Such-and-such makes the highest quality chinos." Or "this brand provides the best value." While potentially useful in some respects, I don't think this gives you the fullest picture.
Instead, let's start at the beginning.
During the 1898 Spanish-American War, US troops stationed in the Philippines wore sand-colored pants made from a heavy cotton twill woven in China. Since the Philippines had been under Spanish colonial rule at this time, the locals call these "pantalones chinos" (Chinese pants).
One day, "It" will happen, by which I mean sudden and unexpected news that you want to celebrate. In such cases, you will want the right outfit. đź§µ
What do I mean by "It?" I mean that joyous moments are not always something you can plan for. Perhaps you received a pay raise or got accepted at a waitlisted school. Perhaps a loved one is now cancer-free. Such moments can be sudden and unexpected — and you want to be prepared.
Of course, you can always celebrate in the same clothes you wear to bed. But IMO, this diminishes the moment. Thus, it's nice to special outfits for "It," even if you don't wear them all the time. It's similar to toasting a special glass of champagne and drinking water.
In the 1950s, Irving Penn traveled across London, Paris, and NYC to take portraits of workers in their work clothes. These clothes at the time were not considered glamorous — they would not have shown up on fashion runways — but they demonstrate a simple aesthetic principle 🧵
Consider these outfits. How do you feel about them? Are they charming? Repulsive? Stylish?
If you consider them charming and stylish, as I do, then ask yourself: what makes them charming and stylish? Why are you drawn to the outfits?
As I've mentioned before, I think outfits look better when they have "shape and drape." By shape, I mean the outfit confers a distinctive silhouette. If these men took off their clothes, we can reliably guess their bodies would not be shaped like this: