From The Annals Of AngloMania

I've been thinking about this vague but illuminating concept since I saw a few pictures from the exhibition at the Met. And I've come to realize that it is perhaps one of the main animating principles behind my incorrigible scrounging, thrifting, and collecting.

Thrifting has generally been horrible lately here in San Francisco, but there are always things that slip through. Halloween can be a great time to thrift owing to some rather expansive definitions of costume. Favor smiled on me last week with a number of good finds. Long live AngloMania!

First up, an amazing Huntsman suit dated January 31, 1975:



The cut may best be described as a two-button roll one--it really is the trademark Huntsman one button cut with a sort of vestigial second button above fairly high on the chest. This may be a clearer picture of how it works.



Check out the back. I've never seen anything quite like this before. Not quite a western back, but certainly equestrian-inspired:



The back construction accounts for a lot of the shaping and skirting:



The pants are interesting as well:



Notice the lapped seams and the absence of back pockets:



A simple wool cavalry twill, the suit acquires its considerable flamboyance solely through cut and details:



The Huntsman label:



All in all, a satisfying way to spend ten dollars. Fits just about perfectly too, though finding a place to wear it may pose a few difficulties.

Another acquisition from the Halloween rack. This is a shawl-lapelled tartan jacket from Edward Sexton dated November 5, 1985. The lapels are really quite long:



This is another piece that's nice to look at but perhaps a bit harder to wear. It's cut much like a dinner jacket but the lapels are self-faced rather than with satin or grosgrain. Not really casual, but not really formal either:



A close-up of the cloth:



Finally, an older piece but it fits here. This is a tweed Huntsman jacket dated June 11, 1975. The seventies, it turns out, could be very good:



A three-button cut. Note how well the scarlet lining works with the tweed:



Here's the back:



And a close-up of the pocket:



Well, that should do for now. I may, however, make this an on-going project.

Thanks for all the kind replies. I really enjoyed doing this and I think I may continue on for a bit--if I may have your indulgence.

Here's another Huntsman suit I picked up late last summer. The cloth is a very black wide-set beaded pinstripe. It's very difficult to photograph without washing out but very striking and, yes, a prime example of the AngloManic impulse. This one is dated June 22, 1977. Punk was entering full swing (so the mohair is a bit of an homage):



Another one-button closure. This jacket strikes me as uncharacteristically drapey for Huntsman; the stiff front is mostly absent:



I particularly like the pattern matching here. This is always a challenge for stripes, especially when they are as wide spaced as these. Notice how the stripe disappears into the front dart which then continues down through the pocket to the bottom of the coat:



Flat-front pants:



Interior waistband with the Huntsman buttons:




Here's another suit I found at just about the same time. This one was made by Henry Poole in 1996 and comes from my physical doppelganger--a prominent San Franciscan and long-time Poole's customer who has enriched my closet immeasurably over the years. At one time I must have had about fifteen of his suits. He has excellent and sometimes adventurous taste. This is a three piece with a lapelled waistcoat made from a very heavy blue birdseye. Perfect for winter in a drafty house:



The single-button front is a detail not often seen on Poole suits:



The waistcoat:



Detail of the fish-tail trouser back:



This picture of the sleeve is a good representation of the color and texture and may give some idea of the heft of the cloth:




In a sportier vein, here's another example of Poole's handiwork--a jaunty thornproof tweed jacket from 1989:



Flapped patch pocket:



Leather elbow patch:



Throat latch:



Stag bone buttons. A little gruesome, perhaps, but just the sort of detail AngloMania celebrates. The southerners can keep their corzo: