I liked the trial shirt from the moment I saw it. All neatly pressed and arranged, the cardboard collar finishing in a tab at the front that declared ‘By Royal Appointment’. A nice touch, as was the label (black, discreet, reading ‘Turnbull & Asser Bespoke’) and the bag (also black, with the same bespoke message, but a little less discreet).

This was the trial version of my first bespoke shirt (as previously described on this site, here). The idea is that you wear it three times and wash it as you would your normal shirts, so you can try the fit and so the guys at Turnbull & Asser can see how much you are likely to shrink your shirts over time. You then have a fitting with the worn and laundered shirt, before the final measurements are sent to factory.

When I tried the shirt on, I was pleased with the cloth – a Sea Island-quality cotton in white. The tail was impressively long (no scrimping there). And I liked the higher collar that had been suggested because of my relatively long neck. While not being as large as some fashion-led shirts of the past few years, the extra height was still noticeable and flattering. It also fastened with just the one button – having two or more is unnecessary, even for very high collars.

However, I was rather concerned with how big the shirt felt everywhere else. I could get four fingers under the collar (it should be more like two); the gap between the sides of the collar seemed rather large; the sleeves seemed to be slipping far below the base of my thumb; and the waist and hips felt rather bulky. It also felt like there should be one more button at the bottom of the placket – when the shirt rode up it seemed to gape and expose my mid-riff.

Little changed after three washes (one of them at 60 degrees, to be on the safe side). But then I don’t tumble dry my shirts, which is a big culprit in the shrinking of shirts.

When I went back for my fitting, master shirtmaker David Gale was very reassuring. He repeated his previous message that it is always worth making a shirt big as it can’t be enlarged, only cut down. So we took 3/8 of an inch out of the collar and made the cuffs each ¼ of an inch smaller. We also reduced the gap between the ends of the collar, the presumption being that one would wear a bigger tie knot with a spread collar like this. I don’t.

Finally, we cut down the chest, waist and hips – originally the excess here had been 5, 4 and 4 (inches); that was reduced to 3.5, 1 and 3. I’m sure this will fit well, but I did wonder why the trial shirt itself was not closer to the mark. I also asked for one extra button to be added to the bottom of the placket.

The shirt and the new, adjusted pattern will now be sent to the factory. The next instalment in this series will be a visit to the factory to watch my shirt being made.

“Do you like my new shoes? Yeah, they kinda look like brown Paul Smiths, but I had them deliberately antiqued and customised with grey fur around the welt.”

That excuse was never going to work. I was away for the weekend and I had only packed one pair of shoes for going out to dinner. But I am a fool. The last time I wore them was when I was in New York in September when I had them polished and then stepped out into the pouring rain.

Because I had a flight the next day, I had to pack them. I then forgot about them and left them lingering in shoe bags like last week’s muddy football kit. Now they were mouldy.

I had ten minutes and the meagre offerings of an identikit hotel room to assist me. At this point I genuinely feared that the shoes were ruined. Fortunately I had remembered to pack a tin of polish and a brush.

I dived into the toilet-cum-shower room pod and vigorously brushed all the fur off the shoe. The leather was now clean of mould, but dull, lifeless and stained. Worse still, there were salt marks where the waterline had soaked into the shoe.

On the plus side, the sole was remarkably dry. So any concerns that they could crack or split were alleviated. In addition, I had packed the shoes with the shoe trees in. So they were deodorised and not smelling too badly.

I still had a job to do though. The uppers needed some serious attention. I wanted to put two or three layers of polish and water on before buffing heavily, but I didn’t have a sylvette to hand. So, I grabbed the cotton vest I wear instead of pyjamas and ripped it down the sides like Hulk Hogan. Wrapping it around my fingers I applied the polish. I then folded it so that it was about three inches wide and a foot or so long.

With the shoe heel locked between my knees I used the vest to buff the toecap in a side-to-side motion. I was surprised by the results. In ten minutes I had turned the leather from furry and dull to almost perfectly shiny and clean.

That said, the salt marks were difficult to remove and on close inspection you can still see them slightly. So I will do some research on the best way to deal with those.

In the meantime, my idiot’s guide advice is to always dry your shoes properly before storing them and remember to dry them on their sides. But if you do forget, it is not the end of the world. Leather is more resilient than you fear when you come across grey mould.

The clubbable Edward VII (1901-1910) left us several enduring style markers – the fashion for leaving one’s bottom waistcoat button undone for one thing. He also popularised the Homburg, made wearing tweed stylish and introduced the Norfolk jacket. He managed to combine sartorial elegance with a taste for hunting, an eye to the ladies and a raffish approach to life in general that left his mother, Queen Victoria, quite unamused.

But until now he has never been associated with the world of spirits. However, it turns out that the portly monarch left one other style tip for a gentleman that has, until now, languished in sad obscurity. I’m referring, as you will shortly learn from cocktail aficionados of your acquaintance, to The King’s Ginger – a liqueur first produced around 1903 by London wine merchants Berry Bros & Rudd at the request of the King’s doctor, concerned by His Majesty’s reckless habit of taking winter morning rides in his new open-top horseless carriage (a natty Daimler as it happens).

Having concocted a full strength base enriched with macerated ginger root and a hint of lemon oil, Berry Bros appear to have more or less forgotten about it after Edward’s death. However, having recently scoured their archives, they have relaunched this splendidly-named tonic and now offer it to the hoi polloi at £17.95 the half-litre bottle. It’s actually pretty decent value, considering its versatility.

As you’d expect The King’s Ginger is a pleasantly warming drop that brings to mind hunting, shooting, fishing and other country pursuits, even long walks in Windsor Great Park. But I’d use it as an unexpected cocktail ingredient to add spice to some old favourites.

A Ginger Royale for example involves adding a dash to champagne or sparkling wine; it combines well with tonic and a plop of Angostura bitters; or mix it 50/50 with a decent Scotch for a twist on the classic Rusty Nail.

Horseless carriage not required, though the wearing of a jaunty waistcoat will add an appropriate touch of ceremony.

Ian Buxton

The Footpatrol Campus and the Lodger Monk shoe have many obvious similarities – both are reinterpretations of classic designs with reserved asymmetry and on-point detailing. But it wasn’t anything inherent in the shoes that made me want to put them together.

Last week, I entered the Crooked Tongues competition to win 52 pairs of trainers (still open here) and one of the questions (mercifully few in number) was “[what's your] favourite sneaker store?”

My answer had to be Footpatrol.

From 2002, 16A St Anne’s Court in Soho, London was home to the most select sneakers and footwear. And for those who knew Footpatrol, the fact that it closed back in March 2008 won’t preclude it from consideration in any list of great sneaker outlets; exceptional staff and a stream of great collaborations meant the place was without a genuine rival and truly unforgettable.

So, in remembrance of the store and with London becoming all too grey recently (which, for most people, quite wrongly connotes the dismal: old age, Man United away kit 95-96, the bland, Gordon Brown) it seems proper to match-up the Grey FP Campus 80s and the Lodger Monk shoe.

The adidas Campus, having earned its reputation from the BBoys of the eighties, was one of the most iconic sneakers of its time. The Footpatrol version has a suede upper and tonal snakeskin stripes on the inside, providing asymmetry not unlike the Lodger Monk Shoe with its buckle strap. Both shoes are clean designs with just the right amount of variation to avoid being either a corruption of a classic or insufficient to constitute actual change.

Although I started this post with the seductive idea of free sneakers it seems the shoes I really covet are now only available at a savage cost on ebay or not at all, which reminds me of, and adds validity to, a Scott Roeben quote: “Sex is like Art. Most of it is pretty bad, and the good stuff is out of your price range.”

Following up on last week’s post on how the silk for a tie is cut, here’s a demonstration of how it is sewn together.

The key to any well-made tie is the slip stitch that runs all the way up its centre. It begins with a bar tack at the wider end and ends with a similar tack at the narrow end, plus that all important loop – a couple of inches of extra thread that allow the stitch to slip.

Let’s look at how one is made at Drake’s ties. The first image, above, shows the tie’s lining being placed along its middle. The lining determines the weight and feel of the tie, and has to be carefully balanced with the weight and handle of the silk. Here the lining is a wool and cotton mix.

The lining has a rough and a smooth side. It makes little difference to the shape of the tie which side is uppermost, but proprietor Michael Drake prefers the rough side to face the front – if only because otherwise there is a chance the texture could show through onto the back of the tie when it is being pressed.

In the second image, the lining is being pressed down into the front tip of the tie. The tipping is picked out to harmonise with the colour of the silk, here a white tipping for a small blue-and-white check: both very summery-feeling colours.

There is slightly more tipping on a Drake’s tie that a normal tie. This is because Michael likes to have the bar tack a little higher than average, allowing the end to splay out a little and “display more character”. It’s more expensive as it requires more material – a place someone could save a little money if they wanted to.

The two sides of the tie are then folded over the lining and tipping, and pinned all the way up their length. That’s the pinned (and weighted-down) tie you can see in the background of the image above.

In the foreground is the needle that is used for the slip stitch. This is unique to the job, with a slight curve that makes it easier for the sewer to catch both sides of the tie, and the lining, with each stitch and yet not prick the front. It is crucial that the lining be held with each stitch, so it does not move around the tie and provides consistent body along its length.

The bar tack is the first, anchoring stitch – it holds together all those elements mentioned above, plus the tipping. Some companies use an oversized stitch to demonstrate its strength. Drake’s considers that ostentatious.

The image above shows the stitch half-way through its progression. The self loop has just been inserted and stitched into place. By the way, a slip stitch is a loose, irregular stitch that allows the thread a certain amount of movement, while still securing the material.

At the end of the tie, a loop of excess thread is left (as shown below) before the thread is secured in a final tack. This loop means that the tie can be stretched, knotted or contorted, yet left to hang under its own weight will return to its original shape.

A tie without one is pretty much DOA.

Photography: Andy Barnham

We’ve noted before that streetwear is making a slow transition into slightly smarter apparel. The bapes and fluorescent colours are out and well designer basics are in. One of the most successful labels to make this transition is 3sixteen.

Based in New York, 3sixteen have been going for six years. Originally a graphic t-shirt brand, they’ve gradually made the move into smartly designed clothes that can be dressed up or down. Another reason why 3sixteen has been so successful is their use of US based factories – a stickler in this day and age.

“We don’t use one factory to produce every category of clothing, but instead have found specialized sewers with a history of quality work,” Johan Lam explains. “For example, when we wanted to start producing footwear, we teamed up with Quoddy Trail in Maine, one of the last American based footwear makers. Each pair is hand cut and sewn in a tradition that Quoddy has upheld for nearly a century. For our leather accessories, we reached out to our good friends at Tanner Goods in the Pacific Northwest. Each piece is hand produced and inspected ensuring quality and longevity. We’ve also found some of the most experienced tie and shirt makers in New York City and some of the best denim and outerwear sewers in Southern California”. It’s this approach that sees them teaming up with best locally known producers in their field, including the aforementioned Quoddy and Tanner as well as denim aficionados Self Edge.

On the fabric side they’ve sought out suppliers with “decades of experience and a reputation for excellence in their product”. This means that they use selvedge denim from Japan and only use Horween leather for their shoes.

When the topic turns to the idea that customers are no longer so wowed by prestige Johan states, “I think that there will always be customers in both categories; ones that care to do the research and want to understand the justifications of cost behind their purchases, and ones that want to buy what’s popular at any price regardless of quality and craftsmanship.” He goes on to say that “For us, we strive to provide the highest possible quality in our products, while still maintaining an accessible price point for our customers. It is a balancing act that we are still working on perfecting.”