A bright spotlight shines on each Kiton mannequin. Literally. The suits seem to be made for admiration rather than use, destined for decades of duty as a sartorial prosthesis in the closet of some Russian oligarch, with perhaps the unluckier members of the litter smuggled off the market through discount backchannels, finally to end up in a Tumblweed selfie, garnering 12 "notes", coveted each and every one, but not, alas, the elusive-yet-ubiquitous "#Menswear" hashtag. Sartorio's booth is more approachable. They manage to create the impression of suits with just some draped fabric and a lapel sketched in chalk, which is a neat trick. I was told that the tailor who did the displays spent about ten minutes on each one, which gives you an idea of the facility these guys have imagining cloth in three dimensions. In other cloth tricks, witness this feat of tailoring achieved in a double-faced cloth. There is absolutely no canvassing or padding inside this jacket. What looks like a seam here isn't actually two distinct pieces of cloth sewn together - the cloth is pinched together and sewn on itself, like an interior dart. By comparing the different makes of Sartorio jackets, you can start to get a sense of what canvas does. The deconstructed jackets hang on their pegs limply - the lapels have little structure because they're nothing holding them up but cloth. This gives the advantage of increased comfort and something to brag about to your iFriends, but it also means the jacket has less shape. The jackets with some guts have some shape even while hanging on a hook. Sartorio does not have as bright of a spotlight shining on it as does Kiton, the flagship brand of all Southern Italy. But a ship is a heavy thing to carry on your back when you're trying to get through a day of wearing coat and tie. From the Kiton stand.