1. G.J. Cleverley Vintage Shoes in Tuczek-style Elastic Loafers

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    March 8, 2020 by Ville Raivio

    Much has been said about G.J. Cleverley’s bespoke shoes, likely most by the mouths and pens of men who’ve never owned such pairs. There is no substitute for first-hand experience, so I took it upon myself to grab a pair from the endless selection of eBay. The gamble was with sizing and this cannot be avoided with bespoke pairs. As luck would have it, shoes were made by old man George Cleverley himself.

    This I deduce from the pair’s sockliner which features Cleverley’s old address on Cork Street. A short message to the company and back confirmed that GJC moved away from those premises some 40 years ago. Cleverley was alive and well-heeled back them, so this gives me and Keikari’s reader an interesting look at what exactly made his reputation so grand. It would have been swell to look at the shoe trees too, but they didn’t last.

    Today’s example pair is an elastic shoe made in the Tuczek-style from alligator leather. A short look at Keikari’s archives will remind the reader why that name is important. Cleverley and John Lobb Ltd. still market a few pairs in this style as Tuczeks. As Cleverley apprenticed and worked at Tuczek’s, his company’s orders were very much inspired by the legendary Nikolaus.

    This pair doesn’t have that “suspiciously chiseled toe” that Cleverley has become known for, instead we have a softly squared one likely requested by the original client whose name is not recorded. The single leather sole is light and has a rounded, narrow waist and the heels disappear under the heelcup delicately. Both have nothing that sets them apart from those by other West-End shoemakers. The welt, on the other hand, is cut extremely close and has very clean stitching that nearly disappears into the fudging.

    The heelcups look oddly straight from the back but the side profile is nicely rounded. The leather stiffeners inside are firm at the bottom but nearly disappear the higher one goes. The elastic is, as the name suggests, very elastic and has an interesting light blue colour on the inside. The lining seems to be made from leather usually cut for uppers, but it changes into linen at the front of the pair. For no smart reason I can come up with, the sockliners have no foam cushioning inside.

    The upper stitching is dense and neat all around. The alligator hides are simply stupendous. There is no cracking, very little creasing, and no scuffs at all. The hides feel soft and had a strong shine even before cream and polish. The scales at the back of the pair, on the other hand, don’t match the small and round belly cuts at the front. Looking online on the GJC website, this choice seems to be the norm for them still in the 2020s. The back scales are larger and square.

    Finally, a word on the lasts. The proportions and forms on this pair look very clean, very smart, and (to use that ageless word) just timeless. The shoes are some half a century old but have no shapes or lines that would deter, though not all men appreciate the looks of alligators. To put this all in a single word, these feel proper. This would have appealed to the British gentry who, of course, wanted to look and feel apart from the hoi polloi but didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of looks.

    A proper appearance was the thing, though I’m unsure how alligator fit into this equation. I like to think that the pair was commissioned by an eccentric chap who wanted a smart pair for the club, and wore them only on special occasions. The closest RTW-lasts in current times to compare to these elastics would be those sculpted by Edward Green. Their forms look proper and never stick out. In sum, I feel Cleverley earned his reputation by being dependable, within reach, having a high enough quality, attracting the right kind of clients, and offering comfort as well as looks. Yet from what I’ve seen, the company’s shoes were nothing conspicuous or otherworldly or awe-inspiring. Simply proper.

    Coincidentally, the fit of the pair was off for my feet in the end and I have put this pair for sale online. If the reader happens to wear size 7 or 7.5UK with a regular shape of foot, a message to me would be welcome.


  2. The Nikolaus Tuczek chisel toe

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    March 4, 2014 by Ville Raivio

    The skill and Ethos of Tuczek was featured on Keikari around a year ago, and last month I updated the old article with new photos and some tidbits I found. After having learned of Aubercy’s small private collection of masterpieces from old-world cordwainers, I contacted Xavier Aubercy for a closer follow-up on Tuczek’s masterful and suspicious chiseled toe.

    For the reader’s eyes only: a mid-red brown half brogue model with ram’s head medallion (a Tuczek favourite), trimmed heels, tight and spade-like welt, five hidden eyelets, leather soles and that chisel toe; round but sloping, curvaceous but chiseled. Art in sculpting wood and leather, never to be shaped again quite like the master.

    Nikolaus_Tuczek_shoes_from_the_Aubercy_collection_at_Keikari_dot_com

    Photo: Aubercy


  3. Nikolaus Tuczek

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    February 19, 2014 by Ville Raivio

    Nikolaus Tuczek was a renowned shoemaker whose name pops up occasionally on menswear sites and forum discussions. Despite his masterful skill and chiseled lasts, Tuczek’s legacy is known by far too few. This cordwainer to the privileged was born to a family of Austro-Hungarian immigrants and amassed his knowledge in London, serving its finest legs for several decades. His firm’s history is sadly not as documented as the likes of Lobb Ltd. and I’ve seen scarce contemporary pictures of the firm’s display windows or pairs. Active menswear enthusiasts certainly know GJC and G&G, but fewer know that both makers have drawn from the fountainhead that was Tuczek. His name has escaped most rakes, now’s the time to change that.

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    G.J. Cleverley worked under Tuczek’s watchful eye for 38 years before opening his own firm in London. What’s more, Tony Gaziano and Dean Girling both spent nearly a decade at Cleverley’s before launching the latest English shoe factory, Gaziano&Girling. I believe both Cleverley and G&G best represent the ethos that was born from Tuczek’s hands: sleek, contoured, close-fitting, chiselled and slender footwear. Somewhat effeminate but always proper. More than anything Tuczezk had a masterful sense of proportion. The late master made the most wonderful chiseled toes and lasts closer to wooden sculptures than mere tools of the trade. Sole stitching was dense, welts trimmed close, a ram’s head brogue medallion was common. Leather soles had contoured waists and understated finishing, shoe trees were hollowed and close-fitting — all characteristics that G&G and GJC share today, with the exception of the former’s aggressive waist shaping and eccentric designs. Tuzcek was open for some of the more whimsical wishes, too. The elastic alligator shoes with a brogue medallion on the instep, pictured at the bottom of this post, is proof of this.

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    Nikolaus_Tuczek52

    In his column for Cigar Aficionado’s Winter 1994/1995 issue, G. Bruce Boyer recounts the following story with John Hlustik, who bought and revived the Edward Green factory in 1982:

    “Just the other week a gentleman came into the shop for some new shoes. He was wearing a pair made by Tuczek in the early 1940s. They were so marvellous, I asked him if he would sell them to me…offered him $3,500. He refused, and I can’t say I blame him. After 50 years, they had an absolutely vintage classicism about them.”

    Back in the 80’s, $3500 had quite a bit more purchasing power than today. This comes to show how wanted and rare Tuczek pairs had become by then, even more so today among collectors and cordwainers who keep a small museum. I have searched for pairs on eBay every once in a while, and most items sell for closer to $1000. As the firm is defunct, no new pairs can be made. I feel the pairs still intact should be displayed in shoe museums or as part of collections, certainly not worn.

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    For dating vintage pairs, Nikolaus Tuczek has worked in these premises:

    24 Arthur Street, Oxford Street, 1853-1855

    24 High Street, St Giles’s, 1856-1861

    109 New Bond Street, 1862-1886

    39 Old Bond Street, 1887-1903

    15B Clifford Street, 1904-1937

    17 Clifford Street, 1938-1966

    21 Jermyn Street, 1966-1969

    Around 1970 the firm was taken over by Lobb Ltd., who have honoured the late master by naming a current sample model after him. The side-laced pair is called Elastic Sided with Plain Tuczek Style Elastic – (SS597). Apart from the strong chisel toe, Tuckzek’s firm is rememberd for its eccentric elastic shoe model. This model allows the shoes to be taken off and put on faster than laced pairs, while still retaining proper support and comfort. Although a rare sight today, the model is most common in Japan, where shoes are removed for house visits and the elastic detail is helpful. A current online search with Tuczek’s name comes up with many discussions about the late firm, implying that, although the man may be gone, he is somewhat remembered and his influence lives on. As is good and proper.

    If the reader owns a pair of Tuzceks, I urge him to contact me and send along some pictures. The pairs still intact should be seen.

    Nikolaus_Tuczek48 Nikolaus_Tuczek47 Nikolaus_Tuczek46c Nikolaus_Tuczek46 Nikolaus_Tuczek41 Nikolaus_Tuczek40 Nikolaus_Tuczek39b Nikolaus_Tuczek39 Nikolaus_Tuczek38 Nikolaus_Tuczek37 Nikolaus_Tuczek36 Nikolaus_Tuczek35 Nikolaus_Tuczek34d Nikolaus_Tuczek34c Nikolaus_Tuczek34b Nikolaus_Tuczek34 Nikolaus_Tuczek33 Nikolaus_Tuczek32e Nikolaus_Tuczek32d Nikolaus_Tuczek32c Nikolaus_Tuczek32b Nikolaus_Tuczek32 Nikolaus_Tuczek31 Nikolaus_Tuczek30 Nikolaus_Tuczek29 Nikolaus_Tuczek28 Nikolaus_Tuczek27 Nikolaus_Tuczek26 Nikolaus_Tuczek25 Nikolaus_Tuczek24 Nikolaus_Tuczek23 Nikolaus_Tuczek22 Nikolaus_Tuczek17 Nikolaus_Tuczek16 Nikolaus_Tuczek15 Nikolaus_Tuczek14 Nikolaus_Tuczek13 Nikolaus_Tuczek12

    Pictures: © original uploaders


  4. An Interview with Efe Laborde Bootmaker

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    May 30, 2022 by Ville Raivio

    VR: Your age and occupation?

    EL: I am 34 and I am a boot maker. I make traditional boots and shoes entirely by hand.

    VR: Your educational background?

    EL: I grew up in rural France, in what I later discovered was the place of my ancestors for many generations before. My father is French and my mother English, and from a young age I also sought to learn more about the English side of my identity. After going to a bilingual school in Bordeaux and living with my uncle and aunt for four years, I moved to England to study Anthropology & Archaeology at the University of Bristol. Following this, I returned to France briefly and then moved to London – more or less out of luck and desperation.

     

    VR: Have you any children or spouse (and how do they relate to your shoe enthusiasm)?

    EL: I am married and I have a daughter who is 11 months old at the time of writing. My wife is a lover of shoes, although she may not be forthright about it – and by far my best customer (four different pairs of lasts!). Time will tell where my daughter stands, but she has been crawling since a few months and I must constantly keep an eye as she goes to hunt out tools from my work bag or head for the corridor where shoes can be found.

    VR: …and your parent’s and siblings’ reactions back when you decided to become a shoemaker?

    EL: I did not decide to be a shoe and boot maker. It was more like contracting a severe illness, an obsession with no cure which drags me further and deeper down its abyss as time passes. So, no one around me really had a choice or was ever that surprised, the pull was gradual but irreversible. At times it is a passion in the true sense of the word, an uncontrolled presence in my mind and a torment, especially when it is not satisfied. All this being said, I’ve come to learn that I descend from people who are creative, who make use of their hands and are of resolute character. All of which you need to be a shoemaker. Within my direct family circle, my father is a chef, there are two illustrators, a seamstress, a stone carver and a carpenter. So perhaps I am simply carrying out what I’m predisposed to do.

    Most of all, I learned from my dear grandmother some years ago that I had a great-great-grandfather who was a shoemaker in the city of La Réole, the place where I am born. Despite a colossal and unblemished memory well into her 90s, and an ability to talk about events several decades past as if they had happened yesterday – she only had this to say about him: his name was Capdeboscq and “Il a besogné toute sa vie” (He toiled his entire life). Capdebsocq is a name which comes from Gascony patois, broken down as cap de boy – ‘wooden head’. It denotes a particularly stubborn character, someone with ideas as fixed as a tree. Think of someone knocking their head with a fist – that’s where the gesture comes from.

    She used the verb ‘besogner’ which was very striking to me; it expresses not just work, but particularly hard labour in French. It conjures a picture of a poor wretched donkey strapped to a mill walking endlessly in circles. True physical fatigue and hardship. Still, I felt a kindred attraction to this man and his life. I learnt that his name was André Capdeboscq (1855 – c. 1926), that he was born at the foothills of the Pyrenees in a village called Bernadets, one of about a dozen children. He left home around the age of 14-17 and would have walked the road of the transhumance traditionally taken by shepherds, about 200km north into the Landes. He ended up in the medieval city where he worked making shoes the rest of his life, where it finished and mine started. I like to think of it as my own John Lobb story. One thing is certain, he and I are connected by the craft – and I am sure that as family he would approve.

    VR: What other hobbies or passions do you have besides footwear?

    EL: Before shoemaking, I became well acquainted with the art world and the art trade of London, which is another very old and dusty environment and which eventually led me to bespoke shoemaking. If I had been born 50 years earlier, I could have made my life in this field, populated as it was with discoveries of mysterious Flemish paintings, well dressed, well mannered men, investigations led in old libraries, thick burgundy carpets and white tableclothed restaurants. A very traditional and secretive environment. Very exciting. Unfortunately, I came into that world as it was seeing its last days, the last connoisseurs were becoming extinct like dinosaurs and were being replaced by the nouveau riche, with their taste for Warhol and Banksy, NFTs etc. That’s simply not my cup of tea. I love Old Masters, the seventeenth century in particular. It has the power to transport you to different times and get into people’s heads, customs and life as it used to be.

    My favourite school is French still life from the early 1600s, its painters dubbed ‘peintres de la vie silencieuse’. I suggest looking up Louise Moillon.

    VR: How did you first become interested in shoes, and when did you turn your eyes towards artisanal shoemaking? Why classic models instead of fashion?

    EL: I worked for an old family business on Bond Street. I made my way to work by foot, ran around all day, going to restorers, framers, auction houses, fancy houses and so forth, and then walked back home in the evening. I would do this in a nice suit but very poor quality leather shoes, five or six days a week. My feet would swell in the summer and I suffered terribly. I kept thinking people had been doing the same for the last few centuries and that there must be a solution to this pain. After much reading, I resolved to invest in my first pair of Edward Green shoes. I learned my feet were quite wide at the fitting and for best fit, I would need to get Made to Order at a premium. I had the sensation of jumping off a cliff that day when placing my first order. It represented so much money: the gent in the shop looked at me and asked me if I was happy with everything, as I must have looked slightly pale and faint.

    The result was immediate and within two years, I owned three pairs of black shoes and two pairs of brown shoes – weekdays and weekends – which to this day still serve me faithfully (In fact, I’ve never bought any other shoes since!)

    Still, a glass ceiling was hanging above my head. I passed John Lobb Ltd. twice every day, I saw the beautiful window at Foster’s on Jermyn street all the time, and Cleverley’s in the Prince’s Arcade. I was in awe at the displays, the smell, the atmosphere of the shop and envious of the people making something with their hands inside. Those type of people always have something of a satisfaction about them. I was also painfully reminded twice a day that I was not wearing bespoke shoes. I could experience their beauty and aura in my hands, but the comfort and the experience of having them made, having my own – I couldn’t afford it.

    The only way I was ever going to be able to get this was by learning to do it myself. Then, surely enough, little by little, that tiny seed, that insane idea took root – and as I explained above, I could never stop thinking about it.

    VR: How have you gathered your knowledge of the gentle craft — from books, in-house training, workshops or somewhere else?

    EL: After having to be patient a year or two, I changed to a job position that allowed me to take evening courses. I went to learn the basics from Deborah Carré and James Ducker in their workshop near Holborn. 6 – 9pm every Monday for 9 months. Before I had completed my first pair, I began to make a second to go over the steps again and memorise everything.

    I was very impatient to get past the basics and start feeling comfortable with the techniques. I would make shoes in my tiny kitchen after work, until 1am or 2am, hammering away. Clearing up the leather dust after was incredibly time consuming, perhaps another hour. After a while, my friend Oliver, who is a painter, kindly agreed to let me make shoes in his studio. Again, I would go after work, working late into the night, making shoes for everyone I knew who fancied a pair. For a long time I felt very frustrated by my limitations and I started to go bother all the West End makers for tips.

    I became friends with Parham Alizadeh who was a young closer at Lobb. I can’t remember the circumstances, it all happened quite naturally, but I would go visit Sebastian Tarek at Arnold Circus, visit Jason Amesbury and talk lasts over coffee. Jim McCormack invited me to visit him a few times. Eventually I went to learn last making and pattern making with Dominic Casey. Then I returned to see Jim who taught me pump making. The way he went about things made a huge impression on me, and ‘the Gentle Craft’ took a whole new meaning. This took place over perhaps four or five years. Everyone was generous with their time and to them I give my humility and thanks. These are my masters. Simultaneously, I started researching literature on shoemaking and collected books, building my library. I registered and went to the British Library to look at very old volumes, going back to the 1700s. It was a wonderful feeling to open these books and understand that the technique had barely changed. I would read the recipes. Anyone and anything that had some knowledge to dispense, I went knocking to!

    I would take all this back with me and spend hours lying awake at night thinking about what I had been told. I had to try it all on my own back at the workshop… It certainly wasn’t the easy route because I rarely had someone standing behind me to check the work. But the benefit is that I don’t do things simply ‘because that’s the way it’s always been done’, which tends to be the traditional way of learning – I have had to figure out the cause and reason behind every single detail – the hard way.

    VR: When did you found your own company, and how would you describe the House Style of Laborde shoes?

    EL: I am still in the process of founding my own business, Efe Laborde Bootmaker. I make shoes under my name and also take outwork from other shoemakers for specific clients. One particular royal customer has been entrusted to me, which keeps me busy and I think I will look back on this opportunity as a big stepping stone.

    My making is defined by an interest in style and history. For that, you have to look at the work coming from London or Paris between the 1850s to the 1930s, which I consider the epitome. The shoe was made to fit a purpose and occasion – and this was the first concern in mind. Therefore, when I begin to make a shoe, I question how they would have conceived it back then and how I can remain true to that spirit. The purpose informs everything, the pattern, the choice of leather, the fit, the lines, the shape of the last. When all of this is considered carefully, the hope is to reach a shoe that evokes something.

    This is a very personal view, but I believe a beautifully made Oxford should remind you of walking down St. James’s, the clubs and old London. A certain type of derby should remind you of going to race days and old men wearing raincoats and smoking cigars around a paddock. A black patent slipper with a silver buckle should remind you of cold stone floors, the echo of great halls or bells – but if it is fitted with a grosgrain bow then it should remind you of deep carpets, fireplaces and black tie dinners. Things you may have never experienced – but when you see that shoe, if it is well made, it should conjure those thoughts and feelings, that collective memory in you. Bespoke shoes can have that power. Or better said, that is the ideal I pursue when I make a pair of shoes.

    VR: Do you have a favourite shoe model (eg. monk, derby, oxford, balmoral boot) and leather type?

    EL: I don’t have a favourite model but I have favourite examples of a model by specific makers. I keep a library of these things on my computer for reference. The way they have interpreted that style so perfectly makes it hard to imagine how it could be improved. Generally, my taste leans for work which came out of West End firms. They were in such concentration at one stage, competing with each other and this yielded great work as a result. All you must do is know the old West End firms: Anthony Cleverley, Nikolaus Tuczek, Henry Maxwell, Foster’s, John Lobb, Peal & Co., Codner, Coombs & Dobbie, Smith, Hook & Knowles, Alan McAffee, Atloff & Norman, Charles Moykopff – and countless more to be learned about. They all produced fabulous-looking footwear back then and I always keep an eye out to find examples of their work to inspire my own.

    VR: There are dozens of fine shoemakers in England — why should my readers try you?

    EL: I suspect that would be determined by the style of shoe they are seeking and by the type of maker they seek to establish a relationship with.

    I think about it this way: much like any other craft or art, you cannot get away from your own style. However hard you may try, what we make can only be of its time and maker. It is defined by mentality, materials, everything. Just as it is incredibly hard to copy somebody else’s handwriting or reproduce a painting from a different era (nigh impossible in my esteem), so too it’s impossible to make anything that resembles anything other than your own work.

    The Flemish painter Jan van Eyck signed his paintings ‘Als ich can’ (As I can) which frames the idea well. I interpret it as, “only as I can and within those limitations, I do my best”. As for me, that would be English shoes made in London. A taste for bespoke suits, an understanding and love for ‘old London’. With that in mind, my approach is to take great concern in remaining true to the craft and making the very best. I consider everything down to the ink which I make myself – and I want to offer everything a classic gentleman’s wardrobe might require: slippers, shoes, boots, evening wear and riding boots if they wish to order them.

    If someone is attracted to that, it’s probable that we share tastes, ideals, etc. From those mutual points of connection we begin a conversation. I listen, I consider, I research, I suggest. Together we build an idea and then I set about trying to create what the client and I have imagined together. It’s very exciting to receive someone who is like minded and wishes to make something with you – possibly the best part of the work.

    VR: Who or what inspires you?

    EL: There is so much substance in the past. As a young person, I was very excited about the future and what would come next. As I grew older, my taste for ‘conjecture’ shifted to a taste for investigation. The future is made of ideas whereas the past holds both ideas and tangible traces you can hold and admire with your eyes. I find it so much richer when you look into it. Shoemaking is an oral craft and has lost a lot of knowledge with this form of transmission. I am inspired by digging up those old secrets, old knowledge and old pieces of experience. I inform my work with them, I try to improve my skills. You can do it through an infinite number of ways, and holding old tools in your hands, which were held by all those people before you, is an example. You can study the way it is made and carefully considered, and what you can infer from it. Everything about it has a reason. Someone has held that tool, made the shoes and now you are doing the same and through that process you are connected. Then you can dream, you can imagine how they led their lives and perhaps, if it seems wise, you can apply it to your life. Those thoughts inspire me.

    VR: Finally, what is your definition of a “good” shoe?

    EL: Ultimately it’s a question of both style and fit. I can’t answer it properly in a few short sentences, if perhaps by the expression: it needs to ‘look proper’. For construction, it requires a lot of factors to be taken to account: last shape, length and proportion, pattern proportions, lines and curves, upper stitching, balance of the overall make, choice of leather, shape and lines of the sole, of the heel, the choice of finishing, of edge colours, choice of laces. Etc, etc. A well conceived shoe.

    Further to this, and more importantly, is it made for the wearer? Does it provide him or her comfort? Does it complement their morphology and style of dress? It’s very possible to make an absolutely stunning shoe on the last, but if one has failed to take to consideration the build of the wearer, the foot shape and fitting requirements – it’s likely that all the work falls apart when it goes on the foot.

    Therefore, it requires all the elements to come together and concord with one another. If the shoe makes ‘sense’ as a whole, only then can it be a good shoe.

    https://efelaborde.com/

    Pictures: Efe Laborde


  5. An Interview with Paul Farrant

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    January 30, 2019 by Ville Raivio

    VR: Your age and occupation ?

    PF: 56, Property Manager.

    Summer gear

    VR: Your educational background?

    PF: I attended St. Chris in Letchworth, Hertfordshire. A forward-thinking, co-educational, vegetarian boarding school. After a short spell working for my grandfather’s engineering company I was fortunate enough to be offered a position, aged 20, at the Dorchester Hotel in London.

     

    VR: Have you any children or spouse (and how do they relate to your style enthusiasm)?

    PF: Yes, I am married to Jackie and we have two teenage children. Olivia & George. I think it would be fair to comment that they tolerate my vintage clothing obsession. There are advantages as the 3 of them have all benefited from some special pieces. As I am in contact with a lot of the dealers I come across women’s items as well as men’s. Jackie has some vintage Huntsman, Henry Poole, Dege and Skinner and numerous furs.

    Recently I was walking along Jermyn Street with Olivia & George. I had a Gelot fedora on. George a beanie hat. Someone stopped us and advised George that he should take some style advice from his father. As can be imagined, George has not taken up the advice of the passerby.

    A summer party look

    VR: …and your parents and siblings’ reactions back when you were younger?

    I owe a lot to my mother. She has to take credit for being such a fine role model. Now in her 70s, she is still most elegant. My grandfather spent a lot of attention on his clothes too. His tailor was Airey & Wheeler in Piccadilly.

    A 1938 Huntsman morning suit, Lock silk topper

    VR: What other hobbies or passions do you have besides apparel?

    PF: I enjoy fishing with George. I manage to include some vintage equipment especially when fly fishing. Sometimes using vintage is a big disadvantage, though. Last year I snapped a rod and lines, as lures and nets weaken over time.

    My love of good food and fine dining has led to my collection of vintage menus. Although I have stopped adding to this. They are starting to be included on one of three of my Instagram accounts, vintage_menus.

    I am very pedantic about quality of ingredients and presentation. After my early years at the Dorchester I worked for the Royal Household. My position here was involved with food supplies, presentation, menus and seating planning.

    My other Instagram account is vintage_clothing_labels. On this account I post interesting labels of vintage pieces of mine and others, such as Hornets and Hogspear.

    I used to horse ride a lot, but don’t get the opportunity so much now. I have kept my riding ‘kit’.1957 Lobb’s boots and 1947 Huntsman riding breeches. I recently sold my hunting pink swallow tails made by French C1900 of Kilgour, French & Stanbury to an American collector.

    City blazers

    VR: How did you first become interested in style, and when did you first turn your eyes to the classics?

    PF: I have enjoyed a more formal and classic style from as early as around 10 years old. My mother reminded me, over the recent Christmas holiday, how she bought me a Harry Hall tweed hacking jacket when I was 11. Apparently I wouldn’t take it off and paraded around like a peacock.

    My first job at the Dorchester Hotel continued with the formal dress theme. In the front office, in those days, we wore full morning dress during the day. This was with starched detachable collars too. During the evenings we changed into black tie.

    During my time at Buckingham Palace we wore morning dress for the day and white tie in the evening during State visits.

    I have always preferred a more structured cut, such as Huntsman. While I can see the benefits of a more softer cut, giving ease of movement, such as Anderson & Sheppard, they don’t suit my shape as well.

    A country look

    VR: How have you gathered your knowledge of the vintage look — from books, talks with salesmen or somewhere else?

    PF: I suppose the largest influence during my earlier years was regularly trawling through charity shops. 30 plus years ago, before access to the Internet, one could pick up some treasures at very reasonable prices. This has very much changed. The quality pieces do not come through and prices are higher. Though there are still bargains to be found. It’s just harder and more time consuming. My ‘strike rate’ is rapidly decreasing over the years.

    On the plus side we now have eBay. I check this every day. John Morgan of Hogspear has to be a favourite. He still manages to locate some goodies from private house sales.

    My friends at Hornets in Kensington are valuable for an opinion. Bill Wilde has a wealth of knowledge and we frequently chat over a glass or two in the local pub.

    During my working life I have been fortunate enough to work with two royal valets. Sydney Johnson was valet to the Duke of Windsor. I knew Sydney from my Dorchester days when he was then valet to the Sultan of Brunei. During my time travelling with the Court I met Michael Fawcett. Then valet to the Prince of Wales. Michael would give me lessons on various aspects of maintaining a wardrobe and dress style. At Sandringham, one Christmas, we painstakingly went through all the various ways of presenting a pochette in the top pocket of a coat. Note coat, not jacket. Potatoes have jackets!

    And of course Billy Tallon was often present at our gatherings. Backstairs Billy as he was known. Page to HM the Queen Mother. A most diverting character.

     

    VR: How would you describe your personal style?

    PF: I am neither a follower of past fashion or future fashion. Just somewhere in between.

    Shooting gilets with a spaniel accessory

    VR: Among so many companies you’ve tried, which artisans or RTW do you favour and why these?

    PF: My collection now has been honed to such an extent that I now have mostly Savile Row pieces. About 30 lounge suits. During my 20s I favoured Hackett and Chester Barrie. Hackett I have a great fondness towards as I bought from them in New Kings Road in the mid ’80s. Chester Barrie offered great quality and their 40 reg fitted me like a glove. They made for Turnbull & Asser and Huntsman too. Two of my preferred outfitters. Oliver Brown and Herbie Frogg were RTW favourites too. Simpson’s always for cashmere jumpers. Tremendous quality and value in the seasonal sales.

    For suits and topcoats I prefer Huntsman & Sons and Dege & Skinner. There are others on the Row as equally as good, but these two I have had an acquaintance with for many years.

    At Huntsman

    VR: Have you any particular style or cut philosophy behind the clothes you collect and wear?

    PF: I am fairly open on all styles other than the Italian cut. It does not do for me at all. Too heavy on the shoulder and square. I prefer a double vent, too, on a coat. When wearing a suit I usually wear braces. Always when wearing a vest. There’s nothing worse than seeing a gap (usually with a bit of shirt fabric) between the top of the trousers and the bottom of a vest (waistcoat). The other ‘no, no’ is wearing a belt and braces. Hard to believe, but I have seen it!

    All in all I subscribe to the best quality fabrics and workmanship in a classic Savile Row style.

    Other than Purdey, Ray Ward and Holland & Holland I am beyond designer names. I have given my Gucci and Hermes belts etc., to my teenage children. They seem to enjoy wearing Purdey and Holland & Holland too. George has all my Ralph Lauren Purple Label now.

    A Jones, Chalk & Dawson top coat with cuffed sleeves, Huntsman house tweed cap

    VR: Who or what inspires you?

    PF: This is pretty straightforward to answer. Who would be The Duke of Windsor. Ahead of his time in many respects. What would be craftsmanship and fabric quality. Vicuña being the king of fabrics. For tweed it has to be the Islay Woollen Mill.

     

    VR: What’s your definition of style?

    PF: I think I have to borrow a quote from Hardy Amies on this. It is something I try and adhere to. A man should look as if he has bought his clothes with intelligence, put them on with care and then forgotten all about them.

    Hessian cavalry boots by Nikolaus Tuczek

    VR: Finally, given your knowledge on the subject why should Keikari’s readers consider vintage tailoring?

    PF: At the end of the day it’s each man, or woman, for their own. What goes around comes around. I’ve seen some big named hitters buying vintage to replicate or at least for ideas. As the great YSL put it ‘ fashions fade, style is eternal’.

    https://vintagedresserbyfarrant.com

    https://www.instagram.com/paul_farrant/


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Pukimo Raivio.

Only a beautiful life is worth living.


"If John Bull turns around to look at you, you are not well dressed; but either too stiff, too tight, or too fashionable".

Pukimo Raivio.
~ Beau Brummell

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