Discussion in 'Classic Menswear' started by Claghorn, May 21, 2014.
Obviously the issue wasn't settled to everyone's satisfaction. lol
That's a great Amies pic! Wonderful shoulder extension giving proper balance to the hips, allowing for aggressive tapering at the waist.
Elio, I think that's a good starting point, but there are other factors. Shape and length of ass, for example, may prohibit looking good where that ratio holds true.
True, that's why I provided that link to PG's blog post, which kinda hammers home the main requirement: jacket MUST cover ass.
That Amies pic does indeed show how the right amount of shoulder extension allows for a flattering, masculine silhouette. Many times here on SF you see people too focussed on close fitting shoulders, to the detriment of their overall silhouette, IMO.
Very sorry I didn't spoiler this. I forgot how. Can't stop looking at this suit! I've always been leery of DBs but this has me very much wanting one.
Edit: Sorry again. The real reason I quoted it was because I was hoping Crat would let us know the maker.
Crats pic is perfect. Don't mind looking it at over again. His knot needs work though.
That's a great knot. Nice dimple that's just a little cocked to the side. It says I care, but I don't try too hard.
Great stuff @nabilmust
I don't think that word means what you think it means.
I think the knot is dwarfed by the lapels. It looks disproportionate. Otherwise it would be fine.
Looks like suitsupply from the way the lapels are cut.
Oh nabil that is splendid.
Enjoy your Friday Guys,
The most casual Friday I've had in a long time. Perhaps a bit of an unconventional look for SF, with the houndstooth flannel Valstarino.
Crappy light today (or I should say almost non-existent - horrible, horrible weather outside), so this was only pic that didn't end up either grossly under-exposed or blurry.....
XP from the FC.
It's Friday, so I must be in Shanghai. What time is it? I can't tell by looking at the window. My fake Rolex has stopped - maybe I never got it started - and all I remember from last night is the martinis, that girl's thighs, and the sound of fireworks exploding. But they weren't exploding for me.
I can taste the hangover like miner's gloves on the back of my palate, and as I rifle through those dim recollections of all my yesterdays for a clue...maybe a reason...
...it slowly dawns on me that there are never any clues or reasons.
Still, I have a job to do. And it requires a working firearm.
[Second instalment to come soon.]
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