| I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old clothes. All men want, not something to do with, but something to do, or rather something to be.
- Henry David Thoreau |
I’ve always felt at home in New England, even though didn’t grow up here. The traditional New England values of thrift and ingenuity appeal to me. If you couple these ideas with my aversion to shopping, and you’ll understand the title of this post.
A suit is the uniform of the powerless man; the universal projection of insecurity combined with narcissism. Think about it – a suit is neither comfortable nor practical. So by definition it is used for something impractical, namely projecting your wealth as a proxy for your power. But herein lies the issue. One cannot project power through a suit, expensive or otherwise. I quote Margaret Thatcher to explain:
Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren’t.
Following this logic, there would never be a time to wear a suit at all. Unfortunately, much of the world hasn’t realized the silliness of this whole endeavor, and in some places a suit is still the standard uniform. It is, unfortunately, something that I am not going to change single-handedly. But, given the silliness of the whole suit exercise, at least one shouldn’t pay a lot for the privilege of trying to reinforce your status through your clothes.
Apparently, this message was lost on a large part of the US during the last economic boom. Starting with Queer Eye [for the Straight Guy] back in 2003 the world of men’s clothes started growing rapidly. It mostly seemed to mirror the growth of other “form-over-substance” industries like Investment Banking, and Private Equity; you know, where men (and it is mostly men) try and out “compete” each other by conquering business without actually doing anything besides pushing paper around. In an industry where one is measured purely by money tracked on a computer, there is no way to show the score, unless you prove how much money you’ve amassed by buying ridiculously expensive things. So, in the Wall Street banking world, men’s clothes have become the newest battleground for penis size competitions, with participants moving up the clothing ladder and ridiculing anyone who doesn’t play their reindeer games.

"Wow, Fred sure has on a nice suit!"
This phenomenon lead to the growth of several online communities for men to talk about clothes. (As a side note, are you noting the extreme change in the definition of manliness underlying this? Can you picture men working in a real industry like coal mining or an auto plant or a steel mill actually talking about clothes? If nothing else the development of these message boards cements the United States’ transition away from an industrial economy.) Two of the biggest such message boards are Ask Andy About Clothes (AAAC for people in the know …) and Styleforum.
Now my warning before I go any further. These sites are populated primarily by cocks. Cocks in the British, Top Gear, slang for rich idiots with more money than sense sense. The kind who drive BMW M3s just because they think they should. They say things like:
“Men think about clothes with fire and intensity and all day long.” (And you thought it was sex …)
And this gem …
Thank you for your website. I’ve been using many of your web pages (I even printed some of them) since prep school. There were only a few senior superlatives to go around and you are certainly partly responsible for my snagging “most likely to be seen in dress code.”
Best, Paul
If only Paul realized what an insult that would be to the rest of the world (and I went to a prep school with a dress code, so I know.) Poor Paul. I bet he pegs the Top Gear Cock-o-Meter in his M3.

Wow. He Pegged It!
And this, finally, brings me to my main point. On these boards, the inexpensive off-the-rack (OTR) suit is universally maligned. I suppose that in the insulated world of Wall Street and law firms and wherever else it is that denizens of these fora live and work, a man really is judged by his clothes. And that is a true shame.
By cheap suit, I mean a suit from one of the big (also growing) men’s clothing chain stores like Men’s Warehouse and Jos. A Bank. Of the two, Jos. A Bank actually has a slightly better reputation (and I do mean slightly) on the message boards, but the comparison can be best summed up by this quote from a poster named “LA Guy” comparing the two on the Styleforum:
I say that this contest is like two fat kids wrestling. At the end of the day, there is no “winner”. There are just two fat kids. Men’s Wearhouse sells dreck for a little less than does Jos. A. Banks. That’s what it boils down too [sic]. Seriously, if I really, really, needed a cheap suit in a pinch, and only had access to retail, I would go to Macys and pick up something by Calvin Klein (the new, cheap, black label collection.)
Seriously? “If I only had access to retail.” What a cock. Can’t you just hear the condescension dripping from that statement? A little lower down the thread, a slightly funnier and less pompous Kaga weighs in:
This would be like a Kitchen Stadium battle between Ronald McDonald and Colonel Sanders.
OK — I’ll admit that one was funny.
The boards go into all sorts of critiques of construction of the big-box retail suits and lament the lack of full-canvassed construction and the proliferation of fused (read glued) linings. In general, anyone who frequents these boards thinks that anything but the $1000 + Signature Gold suit from Jos. A Bank is shit and you are an undesirable a-hole if you buy one.
The ultimate expression of narcissism is the “bespoke” suit. Bespoke being a British term for “giant insecure cock who needs others to praise him and grovel at his feet.” Actually, it refers to a suit made completely by hand in the traditional sense by a tailor, but it also means outrageously expensive. (A great description of bespoke can be found on the “English Cut” blog from Thomas Mahon, a London tailor.) Back at the height of this craze in 2006, the Boston Globe ran an article on a Boston tailor who had one client, A fund manager from Fidelity, that spent $300,000 at one single tailor in a year. Read that again after you get done choking. The full quote from the article:
One Sullivan client, a fund manager at Fidelity who wished to remain anonymous, buys suits that cost up to $9,500. He spent almost $300,000 on clothing last year; this year he’s already run up a $190,000 tab. Sullivan is now working on a vicuna winter coat for him that will cost $24,000.
No wonder the client wanted to be anonymous. That this can happen in the United States isn’t a source of pride, it’s a national fucking tragedy. To add some perspective, in 2006, $24,000 was roughly the Federal poverty level for a family of 5. I wonder if five people were going to live in this asshole’s coat?
So, where am I going with this?
It’s some actual praise for a cheap suit. It takes a certain kind of narcissist to be a banker or high-profile corporate lawyer in the first place (you know, the kind who believes that THEY really affect the outcomes they’re being compensated for rather than realizing the true complexity of the systems in which they operate and the luck of events that got them where they are). And these guys will never understand how the rest of the world runs. Nor do they want to. They can debate all they want whether a $1200 made-to-measure suit looks worse than a $2500 bespoke suit, and the rest of us will get on fine.
So here’s what you need to know about cheap suits:
Quality Doesn’t Matter for Most People
Seriously. If you are starting in a job that requires a suit every day, stop reading now. Because for daily wear, construction quality matter a lot. For daily wear, you should buy several good quality $1000 suits (preferably on sale). But for the rest of us, quality doesn’t matter. I work for a prestigious organization (honestly). I have been asked to give presentations at several university conferences this year, including Stanford. And I wear a suit no more than 15 days a year. And I am far ahead of most of the US. Most people looking for a suit will wear it 3 times a year tops. And even if they dry clean it after every wearing, it will still last three to five years. Three cheap suits might last someone like this a decade or more. I have five inexpensive suits in my closet right now, most won’t be worn more than three times this year, and then only cleaned once.
99% of Looking Good is in the Fit; Take the Time To Find Something That Fits You Well
A decently fit $199 Men’s Warehouse suit will look better on you than a poorly fitting $2500 bespoke suit. So, unless you keep yourself in shape and don’t routinely change weight by more than 5 pounds, a bespoke suit probably isn’t going to help. You need to have a stable body for a bespoke suit to be worth the money.

Borrowed from: http://www.austenmcdonald.com/writings/ocmf/images/suit.diagram.jpg
I recommend going to whatever retailers are around and trying on several suits before you buy one. You will invariably find that one brand fits you better than another, even before tailoring. This is probably more important than anything else. I have several Men’s Warehouse suits and their cut off the rack just fits a little better in the shoulders than say a Jos. A Bank Executive suit, which is always a bit wide for me. As a disclaimer, I have three Jos. A Bank suits in my closet now, and no one I ask ever notices the shoulders until I point them out, but there is something just a little off about them. I did have a little work done on the jackets to make them look a little better though.
In my opinion, you are better off spending an additional $50 for a good tailor to get a suit fitted than spending an extra $50 on the suit itself.
What defines a good fit? Like Supreme Court Justice Potter Stuart defining obscenity, “you’ll know it when you see it.” But basically, it means:
- A suit jacket where the shoulders fit well. That means a slight slope down and that they don’t stick out too far. One good rule of thumb: put on your jacket and stand perpendicular to a wall, with your arms relaxed at your sides. Lean towards the wall. If the suit touches before your shoulder does, it’s too wide. On a cheap suit this is difficult to fix, so try another brad or style until you find one that fits well.
- When buttoned the vents on the suit coat shouldn’t open up. The vents only open when you sit.
-

Perhaps a bit too high ...
The sleeves are the correct length. (This also depends on wearing the right shirt, but a well-fitting suit helps.) It is common for you to have different length arms, or at least for them to hang differently depending on the straightness of your spine, etc. Seriously. So a suit jacket will often need the sleeves adjusted to the proper length in order to hang correctly when you stand. When standing straight with your arms relaxed, about 1/4 to 1/2 an inch of shirt sleeve should show.
- Pants that ride correctly. Not too high like Urkel from Full House, and not too low.
- Pants that are the correct length. How your pants hang at your shoes is called the “break,” as in “full break,” “medium break,” etc. (Read this for a better description.) The break really refers to the amount of slope created by the pant resting on the front your shoes and hanging lower in the rear. A full break can be stylish, but most normal people don’t get chauffeured to work or travel on private jets, so there is a practical consideration. A full break hangs low down in the back with maybe 1/2″ clearance to the ground. In my world I am sometimes forced to walk through snow and puddles and pants with a full break tend to soak up a lot of this leading to a premature demise. So I opt for a medium break instead.
Whatever your style, get your suit tailored. The in-store tailor at one of the big box chains will do a decent job, but make sure they aren’t just going through the motions. Even the cheapest suit (like the Jos. A Banks Executive suits that I just bought on sale at 3 for $499) needs tailoring. Wear a good dress shirt to the store so you can gauge the sleeve length correctly. Also wear the dress shoes you normally do. If you don’t want to, then ask to borrow a shirt and shoes. This is critical and you shouldn’t be embarrassed. All decent stores (certainly the chains) have these things to borrow. You can expect to pay $30 to $50 per suit for this service.
And whatever you do, don’t let the cocks convince you otherwise. A well fitting $166 suit (Jos. A Bank Executive at 3 for $499) is going to look as good on you the three or four times it’s worn as a $1500 suit. Save your money and spend it on something you’ll actually use.
Finally, once you have a closet full of cheap suits you’ll need something to care for them. See my recommendation here.
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