The Friday Belt: Velvet Port & Tongue

Sandeman's Vintage Port With Velvet Belt

That's the belt from today's smoking jacket. I'm cheating but I think velvet pairs well with Port. Eight years ago I secured a 1966 vintage that was not too dear and simply delightful. Those days are long gone with the '66 pushing it's way upwards of $400. This delightful '77 is just a smidge north of $100 and it amazes me.

I was first introduced to Port whilst working in London. Lunch for two back then consisted of a couple pints of bitter each before eating. A shared bottle of wine with lunch and port with cheese afterwards. Then it was back to Lloyd's of London where the common practice amongst brokers was to pitch their risks to underwriters who were pissed from lunch. Of course, almost everyone was pissed from lunch.

I returned home, somewhere in the Midwest, and my Midwest wife told me if I didn't stop talking like an affected asshole she was going to knock the crap out of me. You may desire to do the same just about now.

I decant Port and instead of a candle I use a torch. Makes the process a little less charming but far safer. Ports have a lot of sediment. More so than a claret but it doesn't have to be wasted. I was taught by a budget minded Scot to eat it on a bikkie. The aroma of Port sediment reminds me of Cusson's Imperial Leather hand soap. Distinctive and comforting but how that little decal stays on the soap is nothing short of magical.

Port with Stilton cheese and some walnuts after dinner beat the bloody trousers off a pudding any day. A creamy Stilton cut with the velvet sweetness of Sandemans whilst munching on walnuts is something in life to cherish. It's... civilized. Like that velvet smoking jacket. Two luxuries that have become necessities.

Another luxury I enjoy in the states is catching up on the London social scene via Tatler magazine. My English friend Mutley and I were on the train in that Midwest place and discussing his insurance retention on a recent mishap where a stone kicked up by a lorrie cracked his windscreen.

Once that was settled, I pulled out the latest issue of Tatler and pointed to the page with the party photographs. "Oh, if we were only back in London, Mutley" I said, admiring a photo of Alice Beer's cleavage wrapped tight in some gauzy fabric resembling a cummerbund. Mutley took a sip of his Old Style, looked at me disapprovingly and said, "Tintin, those people would never talk to you." And rightly so.

The Opera Cape

W.T.F.W.I.T.

It's for sale. One size fits all. Never worn (no sh*t) with tags. Quick, make an offer before my dad sees it.

Formal Week: Double Breasted

The Double-Breasted Dinner Jacket

The Contrast of B&W

I've always had a thing for the double breasted dinner jacket. I first saw it at a New Year's Eve party held at my college during freshman Winter break. There was no rule against students attending but pricey tickets and the fact that most students were home for the holidays certainly helped keep many away. My date, president of the SGA, and I got the distinct feeling many of the faculty (who were there gratis) wished we were someplace else.

My art professor was a little kooky and consequently he and his beautiful German wife hung out with us. In a sea of single breasted dinner jackets -- he alone-- was elegantly clad in the most beautiful double breasted dinner jacket matched only by a tartan dinner coat worn by a very preppy architect. It was a vintage double breasted dinner jacket he found from the 30's and it looked it. Rather than the cloth covered buttons so common on American evening wear - - his were larger and plain black with a beautiful shine. It looked bespoke and I didn't know what bespoke was.

This double breasted coat is far from bespoke. I bought it some place off the Edens north of Chicago for $99 and am proud to say it still fits. Made in the USA and I'm pretty sure in Chicago. It has pocket flaps which are a big no-no so I tuck the flap in the pocket and voila, double bessom. My only regret is it's ventless but what do want for a hundred bucks.

Here's a tip that took me a while to figure out. Studs, especially those with the annoying push in stalks, are best placed in the shirt before you put it on. Leave the top stud near the neck out and pull the shirt on over your head. Then you only have to deal with the one by your neck. And one other thing. Get dressed early. You'll need an extra hour at least. Most of it will be spent on the studs.

I've mentioned my disdain for pocket squares before. And I continue to buy them. Why, I don't know. But this Hermes pocket square works. The studs pair nicely with the bow tie and for the most part it's a simple and inexpensive approach. Although, now that I think of it...the pocket square did cost more than the tuxedo.

Formal Week: The Velvet Dinner Jacket

A Black Velvet Jacket

A Purple Label Purple Tie

Let me just say that shooting black velvet is a mother. It sucks up light like a sponge, my meter is all over the place and the ISO... Trust me. You don't wanna know. So why am I telling you?

This is a black velvet (did you get that?) dinner jacket with side vents. The cloth or the goods as I was taught by the old guys working in suits at Brook's Brothers, "Feel those goods, Tintin? Those are niiiccceeee goods...." are like butter. It's amazingly light and also very warm. The cut is English but it's made in Italy. The hacking pockets and ticket pocket are cut to an extreme but I like it like that.

It's a casual option to black tie (Tux for the folks in Philadelphia) and you can wear this on the street...even in Philadelphia without fear. This jacket and yesterday's Smoking Jacket pair nicely with grey flannels. An ascot kicks up the Alpha Hotel factor by a country mile but a simple tie brings it back to an acceptable level. Also looks great with a black cashmere turtleneck or just an open collar shirt with jeans. Very flexible.

And when every other guy is standing around in a rented tuxedo or worse - the black suit from The Men's Wearhouse - this velvet dinner jacket will keep you in elegant tall timber. Just keep some tape in your pocket to keep the lint off and pray no one takes a picture.

A Week of Formal Options: The Smoking Jacket

The Herzfeld Smoking Jacket



Paul Stuart emamel studs

You're having a holiday party at home and everything is ready...but you. Unless you have a butler I assume you're going to answer the door. In what? Cargo pants and a Moto Guzzi T shirt? By the way, I have a Moto Guzzi T shirt. It's the coolest T shirt ever but we're not here to discuss Moto Guzzi.

The Smoking Jacket may be something like a buggy whip or a typewriter repairman and I guess that's why I like them so much. Up there is that little number I picked up at Herzfeld. It's Austrian and consequently a little unique with most Smoking Jackets coming from England or Italy. I have worn it on the street as a jacket with double cuff shirt, silk knots and jeans. But I'd only do that in New York. Certainly not Jackassville, FL where this outfit is banging 12 on the "Get Your Butt Kicked" meter.

It's really for home. And for entertaining. Speaking of which, I miss the reel to reel tape player. I had one in the Army and college and it had the auto reverse option where it automatically played the other side by reversing itself. Made a big impression while entertaining girls in college. I also put gin and tonic in a cocktail shaker and after it blew up...Well, I don't know if it made an impression but the girl still remembers it.

If you're entertaining - - at home - - don't shake gin and tonic in a cocktail shaker and give the Smoking Jacket a chance. Paul Stuart carries them. That's where I found those enamel studs. Turnbull & Asser has some beautiful jackets and they even offer a smoking fez to match. Herzfeld, of course, still carries them.

Ira, who works at Herzfeld, was telling me about a smashing Smoking Jacket he saw on Turner Classic Movies showing of the 1944 film, Gaslight with Charles Boyer. That's the great thing about anachronistic clothing. You may not see much of it on the street anymore but there's always the movies. Tomorrow- The Velvet Dinner Jacket.

Bergdorf Goodman Windows - Fantastic Mr. Fox

These iPhone pictures do not do justice to the windows at BG. Check 'em out if you're in town.

Friday Belts: The Famous Grouse & Not So Famous Quail

I love British advertising. The Famous Grouse (TFG) commercials are by far some of the most charming and sophisticated adverts around. And the Scotch ain't so bad either. I once spent about four hours with a Scottish risk manager in a pub in Bath and I couldn't understand a word he said...and he was speaking English. I was able to pick up key points. He wanted a program with one large deductible for all lines of commercial insurance via a captive in Bermuda. That's not probably what you would have picked up on but he also drank The Grouse and like most Scots preferred it over Single Malts because, "...hew ken affooord Talisker. New one where em froom, mate."

TFG has always been the Scotch of choice in the U.K. and after trying it nine years ago I left the fold of Johnnie Walker Red and Black. It's nice in the Winter with a little water or soda and a twist of a lemon peel rubbed on the rim of the glass. If you're a Walker fan give it a try. If you're a Ushers fan get another job. TFG is worth it.

This quail belt was brought to my attention by Stewart from the blog, A La Brouche. Amazing recipes, amazing writing and a unique voice all his own. I gotta try his Terrine de Porc. Stew wasn't the first to turn me on to Stafford's but I owe him for reminding me. This outfit flies below most folks radar and so it's not well known. But if you're from GA and you hunt quail...you know it.

I'm not much of a hunter. The last time I went hunting (on a full stomach) was for pheasant on the Illinois - Wisconsin border in early December. For once there was no wind and a soft snow came straight down instead of the 45 degree angle I had grown accustomed to in Chicago. Three of us warmed up with some clays and I did pretty well with a borrowed Italian automatic 12 gauge. But I couldn't hit anything with real wings. And to be honest - my heart wasn't in it.

That is, not until we broke for lunch and I had smoked pheasant for the first time. Then I knew...in my heart...I wanted to kill and eat every pheasant I could find. God, they're good. I'd like to find a pheasant belt like this quail number from Staffords just to remind me of that eye opening moment. Find a good butcher and order a brace. They're perfect for this time of year and have a pre-dinner Grouse on the rocks. I can just see you sitting by the fire place in Duck Head khakis, a pair of Gokey chukkas and this Orvis flannel shirt as you stir your drink with your pinkie while Winter rages on the other side of your front door.

Freeman's Auction Preview

Freeman's Christmas Sale Preview

Johann Berthelsen 'Wall Street - Trinity Church' from the Lehman Brother's Collection. Est. $4,000 - $6,000 Sold for $15,000

Edmund Darch Lewis 'Yachts Off Ochre Point, Newport' from the Lehman Brothers Collection. Est. $6,000 - $10,000 Sold for $11,250

Freeman's Third Floor Gallery

Alasdair Nichol's well hung room

Mane-Katz 'Drummer' Est. $2,000 - $3,000 N/S

W. H. Hopkins and E. Howel 'Before The Race' from a private collection. Est. $5,000 - $8,000 Sold for $15,000

Anatole Kovarsky 'Frame Shop' appeared as a New Yorker cover on 6 April 1963. Est. $2,000 - $3,000 N/S

Alexander Stuart 'Steam Sail Off The Jersey Coast' Est. $2,000 - $3,000 Sold for $9,375

Antonio Jacobsen 'Steamship La Gascogne' Est. $8,000 - $12,000 Sold for $11,875

Rolex Oyster Est. $700 - $900 Sold For $850 / 14 karat gold reverse painted cufflinks Est. $500 - $700 Sold for $700

Almost ten years ago I attended my first auction at Freeman's Auction House in Philadelphia. The first lot I bid on was a piece of Georg Jensen silver for the Golf Foxtrot. Anxious to win and having no clue about the process - -I was scolded by the auctioneer, Jim Buckley, "Sir, you're bidding against yourself!" I got to know the Freeman's staff well through lunches and parties and it's comforting that many are still here.

The fine art auction is December 6th and the jewelry sale is December 7th. It is their Christmas auction and with no reserves there may be some bargains. Throw them an on line low ball bid and see what happens. Just try not to bid against yourself.

A Randall Knife

Not everyman owns a Randall.

The Randall has a mysterious aura. It figures large in the Special Forces community. Stories surrounding the knife are not stories but legends. Mine sits quietly in the top drawer of my nightstand nestled among many pair of tube socks.

My father gave me this knife when I joined the Army and contracted for his old unit, 7th Special Forces Group. The recognition of some words move me. Randall, 7th Special Forces Group, Ft. Bragg, Green Beret, USAIMA and Rolex...I respond to these words.

The knife was presented to my father after serving as an advisor to a National Guard unit. The assignment was a 'cooling off' period and a deserved rest after his tour in Vietnam with 5th SF Group in the Central Highlands. I remember him sharpening it on an oiled whetstone. The scraping was in time to the iambic pentameter of Green Acres; his favorite television show.

Less than eight years later he gifted me the Randall after I joined. The knife received a custom handle made from green suspension (parachute) cord with blue filament accents. I was shown how to do this by one of the craftier paratroopers in my unit. Just like taping a tennis racket handle although I doubt that guy played much tennis.

A grizzled Sergeant Major asked to see the Randall during an FTX. I handed the seven and half inch attack / survival knife over. He squinted at the inscription to my father on the blade and asked, "You're father a short guy with a crew cut and a chest like an oil barrel?" The Sergeant Major turned out to be my father's A Team Medic in Vietnam and when I returned to Bragg he dug up a few of my father's team members and made sure they met me.

I got out of the Army and took the Randall to a college dorm room for four years. One night I woke up to hacking at my window screen with what looked to be an exacto knife. I quietly took the Randall out of a drawer, slipped the knife out of the sheath and held it to the screen. The hacking stopped and I heard footsteps running. I never did figure that one out. I guessed it was a pissed off graphic design major but who knows.

Eventually the suspension cord handle unwound and the handle cap disappeared but it's followed me all these years and never do I look at it without some wonder and always that question, "Why is it mine." I've had it for 33 years and I still wonder when he's going to ask for it back.

God and The Shaggy Dog

The J Press Shaggy Dog Shetland

Just like bacon.

I often wonder if God gets bored. Maybe even burned out. How many times has He been down the same road? I mean, if I get bored doing the same thing for 20 years - - just imagine what it's like for Him? An eternity is like...a long time, dude.

Over and over and over. And the, "Been There. Done That. Got the T Shirt." He must have a Katrillion of 'em. It's no wonder He knows what's gonna happen. It's like me giving a dog bacon. I know for a fact he's going to eat it. J Press is like that for me. They know I'm gonna eat the bacon. Especially when there's a sale. All you need to do is point me to the Shaggy Dogs.

Shetlands are Shetlands but J Press puts every other Shetland to shame with their bright colors, generous fit, substantial heft and reasonable price. Plus, I like the inside tag. I commented on a photo Alice Olive posted of a brilliant blue sky and wondered where I could find a sweater in that color blue. Go figure I'd find it at Press. Maybe God's hanging out there - - Kicking back on one of those Barcelona chairs. After all, don't we know what dog is spelled backwards?

Happy St. Andrew's Day

You might be asking yourself what Angie Dickinson has to do with St. Andrew's Day. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Dehydration Symptoms

Last night's party went without a hitch but I'm a little dehydrated today.

The Friday Brace: Happy 4th of Thanksgiving

A 2000 Bordeaux Supersized

I know. This post should be a Pinot Noir with a turkey belt from Stafford but I didn't order it in time. Still, Thanksgiving reminds me of the 4th. There's no connection to religion. Everybody can celebrate. It's fairly simple and there's no gifts. You ask me -- we need more holidays like Thanksgiving and Independence day.

The 2000 Bordeaux are drinking nicely...when you can find 'em. I bought all the 2000 I could find under $15 this year. It seems to be disappearing but larger formats like this magnum are still around. It's not that it's an expensive wine. It's not. But it's a great year. Most likely it will be consumed this Saturday at a Thanksgiving / Birthday party. Or, I may put out the Greg Norman Cabernet Merlot. It's a 2007. Yeah, you guys don't want some old wine from 2000. You deserve the new wine. There's not so much dust on it.

There is some dust on the those braces. I remember buying those at Britches of Georgetown thinking they would be perfect for Independence Day. Of course, I never wore them on Independence Day because I had the day off. Still, I wore them a lot. I liked to wear them in London where they generated a lot of disdain from the Brits who hate most things French. They refuse to say French cuff and call it a double cuff instead. They did like French wine though. I don't think they ever had a problem saying that.

The Haberdasher

A threatened species to say the least. Especially in smaller towns. But when you find one they're like digging up truffles. Not that I've ever dug up truffles but I sure like to eat them. Wright & Simon sits in an odd part of downtown Wilmington, DE. I feel like I can get a line of credit and mugged all at the same time.

W & S been around since 1935 and I'm guessing my old journalism teacher, Jack Hunter, shopped there. Jack was in the PR department at DuPont and wrote the Blue Max on legal tabs late at night using a pencil so as not to disturb his wife. The lead character, Bruno Stachel, was based on a Nazi officer Jack turned informant during the war when he worked undercover in military intelligence.

Jack's first novel became a film starring George Peppard as Bruno, Ursula Andress as Kaeti and James Mason as her cuckolded husband. The movie killed off Bruno but Jack kept him alive and there were two more novels with Herr Stachel. A trilogy I really enjoyed written by a man I respected. One of the better dressed faculty members at my school as well so I can only assume some of his kit came from Wright & Simon.

I found a short sleeve Hathaway button down made in 1986. Priced at $24, Len Simon let me have it for $12. I'm not a short sleeve dress shirt kind'a guy but I've discovered the shirt works great with sweaters when you push up the sleeves. The Pringle sweater was in that heavy gauge plastic that makes a crinkly sound and reminds me of so many old haberdashers I've been in. Len knocked the price from $140 to $88. "Lets just call it a hundred." Len said.

Oddly enough, St Michael the Archangel is Patron Saint to paratroopers, policemen and haberdashers. Huh... I've been all three.

Anyway, We talked about the HBO documentary, Schmatta and before I knew it Len was measuring me for custom shirts. I ordered four. He's good. Two of the shirts are pop over oxfords sans pocket with lined button down collars. I can't even remember what he talked me into for the other two. Made in Perth Amboy, NJ. What a great experience. I can't wait to go back and see what else I can find.

Pop Up Flea w/ Mr. Mort

Mordechai's Tie

Mordechai

Mordechai's Camera

You meet people in your life and sleep through most of 'em. And then you meet people who wake you up, make you laugh and you share a connection...no matter how embarrasing. Mordechai from, Mr Mort and I shared laughs over pink shirts and photography. Mordechai is a brilliant shooter and a damned fine tie designer. I bought his Chipp inspired, "F**KYOU" tie because it's one of the best cussin tie designs I've ever seen. The man is a genius.

The Pop Up Flea was so much better than last year. Congratulations to all involved in putting it on. I think I made out like a bandit-- Lots of beat up crap that makes life worth living-- and what they sell is pretty neat too.

Blog Cards

I feel horrible about going the budget route for cards but screw it. I'm not made outta money. Lee's Art Shop on West 57th Street did 500 for a hundred bucks. Mrs. Strong, when they were in business, wanted $1,600 for 500. I was a fan of Mrs. Strong but I was told Crane's was doing their work. I have them in time for ACL's flea market today. Giuseppe really nailed it with the most creative cards I've ever seen. Well done, sir.

I didn't want to mention this last year but a fella working one of the booths got confrontational when I took a couple shots of his wares. I would have asked permission but people everywhere were using cell phone cameras and point and shoots. I guess when you whip out a D70 with a hurking lens people assume you know what you're doing and getting paid to do it. How wrong they are. Next time I'll whip out an 8x10 view camera.

Anyway, the fella asks me who I am and who I'm working for. Who I'm working for? That's rich. Should a had Lee's knock out another order of cards engraved with,

'Nonaur Besnes'