Are the Irish Particularly Flamboyant?

FlanboyantGreenLocation: Frisland [1]

That Wilde-ish cape thingummy yesterday put us right in the way of this rather too much suit at Bravura, but while the ensemble may be a bit don’t-you-know — and likely to give Jeeves the vapors — at 299 leaves of cabbage with multiple combination options, it seemed unwise to resist its flamboyant charms. As period costume, it is, of course, imperfect, but we are appreciating the decently wide and peaked lapel, if not the button placements.

Would our Bertie don this raiment while in Ireland? Given his relative anonymity in Éire, perhaps so. Especially if he sneaks over without his man, don’t you know.


As we noted, this suiting comes with several options for colors not just in the suit, itself, but for the waistcoat, shirt, tie and even awkward buttons.




Suit ~ Bravura, formal jacket and pants w/HUD (L$299)

Shoes [1] ~ Sebastian in mustard

Boots [2, 3]~  Hoorenbeek, Ray Ray

Hat [1, 2] ~ JfL, asymmetrical fedora in olive

Hat [3] ~ Couture Chapeau “Sleuth” fedora, brown

Dressed for L$724, L$1048 & L$1097, respectively


A Wilde Sort of Moment

wildeLocation: Dandelion

We are planning an excursion to Ireland for later in the year, and began to feel just a titch Wilde. Our gentleman’s personal gentleman does not fully approve, Mr. Wilde having been noted for a flamboyant manner of dress that he tries to steer our Bertie away from. Well, never mind that. Mr. Wooster would have this cape, valets be damned.


Cape ~ Bravura, houndstooth cloak in gold/black

Hat ~ JfL, asymmetrical fedora in olive

Suiting ~ Deadwool, the Dandy in green, jacket and pants sold separately

Boots ~ Hoorenbeek, Ray Ray

Dressed for L$1420

Our Yellowest Shoes

SebastianFullLocation: L’Arc-en-Ciel, Winterfall

“Jeeves,” I said.

“Sir?” said Jeeves. He had been clearing away the breakfast things, but at the sound of the young master’s voice cheesed it courteously.

“You were absolutely right about the weather. It is a juicy morning.”

“Decidedly, sir.”

“Spring and all that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In the spring, Jeeves, a livelier iris gleams upon the burnished dove.”

“So I have been informed, sir.”

“Right ho! Then bring me my whangee, my yellowest shoes, and the old green Homburg. I’m going into the Park to do pastoral dances.”

It’s a bit early for pastoral dances in the park, unless one has been where we have been lately. Thoughts of spring intrude in situ, while much of the northern hemisphere is still shoveling snow. But, there we are. 

We’ve often wondered about this “yellow shoe” business that Mr. Wooster refers to in this passage. Was it really a true and unapologetic yellow, or was it what might be termed ‘tan’? A lighter shade of tan that approximates a pale brown that can be read as ‘yellow’, but still not blatantly yellow, if you know what we mean. We’re having a difficult time finding period illustrations or samples of truly yellow shoes, so have to assume that by “yellow,” our Bertie might mean something more like the following:





We also imagine these shoes in a perforated spectator style, a fashion that can be found in particularly dandy samples of spring/summer shoes for men in the 1920s and ‘30s. Unlike perforated broguing, these shoes would have had ventilation holes punched clear through a single layer of leather.

Sebastian1[1] The Sebastian shoe in “mustard” with perforated broguing. 

But in the interest of considering the other “yellow” possibilities, here are some additional options:

L&BFull[2] Our favorite brogued Oxford standby from Lapoint & Bastchild in the “cream” color option, which can read as yellow if one squints in the right light…

L&B1…but mostly reads as cream.

HaysurizaFull[3] The best option we’ve found for approximating what we’ve found in the period illustrations, from Haysuriza.


Whangee, by the way, is a bamboo grass with woody stems used to make things like canes, umbrella handles, handbag handles, cigarette holders. etc. We do not absolutely know what the “whangee” referred to above might be, but given that canes from whangee are commonly referred to as “whangees,” we’ll make a reasonable guess that Bertie is stepping out with a cane, rather than an umbrella on such a fine spring day. Alas, while there are canes in world, as have not discovered a whangee, specifically. 

chaplintrampMr. Chaplin with his crook-handled whangee, My Love of Old Hollywood

As for a green Homburg, we’d love one, although it might not be the best option for this particular suit. Our brown Homburg would be suitable, but we opted for the jauntier, perhaps a tad flashy, slouched fedora.


Shoes [1] ~ Sebastian in mustard

Shoes [2] ~ Lapoint & Bastchild wingtip with single and two-tone options (includes HUD)

Shoes [3] ~ Haysuriza, Lace & Cap Consul in tan

Suit ~ FATEwear, Norton in “claypit”

Shirt & Tie ~ Hoorenbeek, Real Shirt, with print tie HUD added

Hat ~ Elysium Frankie boy hat, acquired through a past MenStuff Hunt, 

Dressed for [1] L$1915, [2] L$2139, [3] L$1900

Resources Consulted

“Jeeves in the Springtime”

Vintage Shoe Addict



We will be traveling for the next three weeks and will likely not post much or any during that period, although we do have one thing set aside for publication during that time, if the moment seems right.

Tinker tonk, everyone! Happy trails, and all that…

Victorian? Edwardian? A little of Both? Something of Neither?

deadwoolGreenLocation ~ Britannia Village: London Ambiguity

Can we begin by just stating that we like this suit of clothes? Before we tear it to pieces? Yes, we do like this new offering from Deadwool (special price at The Mens Department, other colors available at the Deadwool tailor’s cabin), rather much, but like almost everything we find in world, it does have some issues that need to be addressed.

First, there are the usual crimes against period fashion, the most serious of which here is the tie hanging below the waistcoat. Without that, the pant waist might be able to pass for being high enough to be covered by said waistcoat.

Second, the era to which this garment is supposed to belong is a little ambiguous. The low, U-front, lapeled waistcoat was seen in men’s formal wear in the 20th century, but not in daywear lounges of the first half of the century. That and the tightness suggest, albeit imperfectly, the late Victorian period. However, for it to be properly late 19th century, the lapels of the jacket should be shorter, perhaps a bit wider, and the jacket should button up much higher — to mid-sternum, really.

Well, those are our criticisms. It’s not really suitable for the 1920s-1930s era fashions upon which we like to focus, but as we stated, we like the bally thing, regardless, and Bertie has been spotted in world wearing it. In fact, numerous men have been spotted in world wearing it. The place is fairly lousy with chappies decked out in this suit.

Below we’ve paired it with Motiame’s “chesterfield,” which is close enough to a proper Chesterfield to not quibble with the naming too much, although one might consider it a covert.



Suit ~ Deadwool @ TMD, the Dandy in green, jacket and pants sold separately

Boots ~ Hoorenbeek, Ray Ray

Hat ~ Hyacinthe Luynes, Homburg brown 

Coat ~ Motiame @ TMD, Chesterfield

Dressed for L$1215, L$1465 with coat

An Early 1920s Possibility

aphorism1[1] Location ~ Britannia Village: London Ambiguity

Fighting the madding crowd at The Mens Department, we almost didn’t give this suit a second glance. Upon consideration, however, we have determined that it is not a bad option for effecting an early 1920s aesthetic. The jacket could be looser and longer, but, well, there you are.

We do find the tremendous cuffs, though adding an interesting contemporary style element, not quite the thing for our early 20th century sensibilities…


…but we will overlook that one issue.

We also find that this suit works fairly well for a Peaky Blinders sort of look, if one wishes to go for that.



Suit ~ Aphorism, Vintage Crew @ TMD

Tie [1] ~ Adjunct, Classic Bowtie, candy stripes

Hat [1] ~ Hyacinthe Luynes, Homburg grey 

Cap [2] ~ Argrace Hunting with “Very short” hair in light brown, color-change cap

Shoes [1] ~ Lapoint & Bastchild wingtip with single and two-tone options (includes HUD)

Boots [2] ~ Brii, casual military boots, black

Dressed for [1] L$1294 & [2] L$718

J.C. Leyendecker & Kuppenheimer’s Double-Breasted Suit

J.C. Leyendecker, Kuppenheimer 40, circa 1925

In order to spark some late winter inspiration, we have been perusing the fashion illustrations of J.C. Leyendecker (1874-1951), a prolific, German-born, American illustrator active in the first half of the 20th century, and well known for his Saturday Evening Post covers, illustrations for the House of Kuppenheimer and decanting the Arrow Collar Man into the public consciousness. A (probably) gay man, he was instrumental in presenting an image of the ‘Perfect American Male’ — lean, strong, decidedly beautiful and with something of a ‘homo-erotic’ air about him — that set the bar for the illustration of men’s fashions from before WW I up through the 1940s. The 1920s marked the decided apex of his career. 

A word to in-world clothing content creators — if you want guidelines for creating period-realistic clothing for men, especially from about 1910 through the 1920s,  you would do well to study the illustrations of Joe Leyendecker. For our part, we are attempting to replicate some of the Kuppenheimer styles he captured in advertisements, with what we can find available. Without the solid foundation of accurately detailed content, however, it is a struggle. 

kuppenheimerdouble1[1] The Hoorenbeek double breasted suit. The lapels are too narrow, the top buttons too off-set, unless one is going for a 1930s style, but the narrow and long lapels kill that, and the drop is not exaggerated enough (‘drop’ referring to the waist to shoulder ratio; a pronounced drop means a significantly larger shoulder/chest breadth than the waist).

kuppenheimerdouble2[2] The same Hoorenbeek suit in a different light worn with accompanying tie, suggesting a broad Windsor or half-Windsor knot, too thick for anything before about 1936. 


Suit ~ Hoorenbeek in beige

Shirt + Tie [1] ~ Hoorenbeek, Real Shirt, with print tie HUD added

Hat [2] ~ Hyacinthe Luynes, Homburg brown 

Shoes ~ Lapoint & Bastchild wingtip with single and two-tone options (includes HUD)

Location ~ St. John

Dressed for [1] L$1979 and [2] L$1234

Resources Consulted

Collectors Weekly — Before Rockwell, a Gay Artist Defined the Perfect American Male

JVJ Illustrators — Leyendecker

National Museum of American Illustration — J.C. Leyendecker: American Imagist

The Cardigan, Part III — Argyle

cardigan3Location: Caelestium Isle

The argyle pattern, with its diamond lozenges intersected by diagonal lines, is identifiable at least back to some point in the 17th century, and is traditionally associated with the Clan Campbell of Argyll in Scotland. However, it was a Scottish knitwear company, Pringle, that popularized it after the first world war. They came up with their “signature” intarsia argyle pattern, which the eventual Duke of Windsor just loved to pieces, in the 1920s. Mostly associated with something one might wear out on the links (what we would give for a nice, billowy pair of mesh plus fours, we will state once again, because it cannot be overstated), an argyle cardigan is none-the-less an appropriate element for country and casual wear, generally speaking.


Cardigan ~ Sey, mesh cardigan in beige argyle

Trousers ~ Bastard, casual baggy in herringbone tweed

Shirt + Tie ~ Hoorenbeek, Real Shirt, print shirt HUD and print tie HUD added

Hair ~ Action James (includes color change HUD and a plethora of color options)

Shoes ~ Lapoint & Bastchild wingtip with single and two-tone options (includes HUD)

Dressed for L$2686

Resources Consulted

Pringle of Scotland — History

The Cardigan, Part II — Cable Knit

cardigan2Location: Basilique Members Club

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

Why would we be pulling out our school boy recitation of The Charge of the Light Brigade in a post about cardigans? Because, dear reader, the cardigan is so named after the general who was known for wearing a knitted woolen coat or jacket. Prince (later King) Bertie may have made the cardigan a recognizable go-to staple of the gentleman’s wardrobe, but he didn’t give it the name. The responsible party there is actually Lieutenant General James Thomas Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, KCB, with the help of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The 7th Earl is also and not coincidentally famous for leading his Light Cavalry Brigade into a very sticky situation on October 25, 1854 in the battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War. That is what really put his name on people’s radar screens, or the mid-19th century equivalent of same. He happened to like to wear a knitted jacket that was common among military types of the day. Tennyson’s poem celebrating the Light Brigade helped make Lord Cardigan a household name, which consequently led to the garment becoming entangled with him. And there you have that.

We might wonder at a popular knitted jacket being named for such a character. After all, contemporary assessments of the general are not favorable. He is, in fact, seen as something of a military numbskull, and the Light Brigade charge — a band of men on horseback waving swords — into cannon fire recognized as being, well, rather dumb. But we forget that at the time, he was much ballyhooed, seen as a great hero of the Crimean War.

Cardigans were made into a fashion staple for women by Coco Chanel in the 1920s, but it took about another decade for them to be truly central to a gentleman’s casual wardrobe. We certainly see them on men in the 1920s and earlier, mostly on the links, but it’s really in the 1930s that we start seeing them all over the gentlemen’s fashion spreads.

Cable knits can be seen in fashion illustrations of the first half of the 20th century, worn on the ski slopes, the tennis court and the cricket pitch. A cable knit adds bulk and warmth, and is consequently particularly suitable for colder weather and presenting a casual, country ramble sort of look.


Cardigan ~ Sakida, Irish cardigan in khaki

Trousers ~ Bastard, casual baggy in steel

Shirt ~ Kauna XIV in white

Tie ~  Kauna XIV fish grey (part of Tweed Twill Grey suit combination)

Cap ~ richie Kimono, tweed wheat flat cap

Shoes ~ Fir & MNA, Ashford Brogue, grey and charcoal

Dressed for L$1826, inclusive of Kauna suit elements not worn. With a separately purchased Kauna tie, this outfit would be L$1118.

Resources Consulted

Alfred, Lord Tennyson — Charge of the Light Brigade

Gentleman’s Gazette — The Cardigan Guide

Vintage Dancer — History of 1920s Men’s Sweaters, Pullovers, Cardigans

The Cardigan, Part I

cardigan1Location: Basilique

The cardigan, we’ve been told, really came into its own via the influence of the Prince of Wales. Albert Edward, etc., that would be. Future Edward VII. From his earliest days in his sailor suit, he was quite the trend setter, and many of the styles we take for granted as the norm in the 1920s and beyond were set in motion as standards by that other Bertie.

Bertie, future Ed. Seventh, took to wearing a cardigan on the golf course, we understand. A pair of golfing plus fours would be grand with this, if such a thing existed in world, but perhaps not here in the Lago region of northern Italy where our Bertie, escutcheon of the Woosters, is sojourning for a spot of restorative mid-winter mild climate.


Cardigan ~ Fatal, Duover Cardigan in brown

Trousers ~ Asteria MensWear, Broderick pants, brown

Shirt ~ Kauna XIV in white striped

Tie ~ Adjunct, Classic Bow Tie, plaids collection

Cap ~ Argrace Hunting with “Very short” hair in light brown, color-change cap

Boots ~ Hoorenbeek, Ray Ray

Dressed for L$1519

Resources Consulted

Vintage Dancer — History of 1920s Men’s Sweaters, Pullovers, Cardigans