SHOPPING FOR THE WELL-DRESSED MAN

All the Details and Ramifications of Evening Dress—Coats, Hats, Waistcoats, Shirts, Shoes, and the Other Accessories

Robert Lloyd Trevor

A MAN once told me that he adored— yes, he said adored —evening dress, because there were so many lovely things—lovely was his word—that one could wear with it.

He was not exactly the sort of man whose ideas one cares to quote, but in this case they apply rather aptly. Evening dress is enjoyable, in a mild way, for the reasons he gave. It gives people of kultur a wonderful opportunity to wear attractive things. But it also gives barbarians a chance to betray their ancestral weakness for over-ornamentation. To the former, if they are at all well set-up physically, evening dress lends an air of grace and extreme gentility—a horrible word but useful. While to the latter, no matter what their personal allurements, it lends the appearance of a sort of combined small-time vaudeville tenor and Indian brave in his war paint. In short, evening dress can be splendid or disgusting, according to the breeding of him who wears it.

It is a pity that dress clothes are so closely watched over by the tailors. These men must live, of course, and unless they sell their wares they can't live. But something ought to be done to curb their perennial passion for changing things. It's not as if they improved evening clothes with their alterations. For they don't originate anything. They merely play tag with a lot of details. Last year they made lapels whose points showed over the shoulder. This year they have cut them down again to the conventional notch. Two or three years ago they eliminated lapels altogether—not for the first time, however—and the next season they reinstated them. They cover collars with silk, satin or velvet, and then they uncover them. They give waistcoats three buttons, and then they give them four. They put rollcollars on them, and take them off again. They make the opening V-shaped and change it to U-shaped, lengthen it, shorten it and all but do away with it. The suit you buy this year will be exactly the same as the model evolved for 1918, because if the tailors dispense with lapels next winter, and cut long-eared ones the year after, they are bound to return to the notch for the winter after that.

It is all very absurd and unnecessary. They ought to let the men who admire one kind of evening coat have it, and let those who prefer another kind have that and devote their surplus energy to perfecting their workmanship and improving their materials.

It may, perhaps, seem inconsistent, after this tirade, for me to describe this year's fashions in dress clothes. But until the millennium arrives—and it appears to be steadily retreating—descriptions will be in order.

Beginning at the top, consider the silk hat. This remarkable survival of olden days was perfected, in shape, long before the beginning of the present century. Hatters learned then just how high and how broad and how curved a silk hat should be in order to give the best effect. Their products varied, however, because in those days most of the distinguished men had their head-gear made to order following their own sometimes eccentric specifications. It is certain that at that time there were many kinds of silk hat embodying all the possible variations upon the main stove-pipe theme. And yet last year and the year before a number of hat makers tried to make people believe they had just invented the shape they called French. You probably remember it. It was a tapering affair, like a truncated cone, and gave one the impression that it would fly off if its wearer raised his eyebrows.

This year the " French " silk hat is no more, The bell-crowner is once again in our midst; a well-balanced, gentlecurved, decent hat. (See the picture above.) But in another winter or so the "French" shape will come back again, You see if it doesn't.

Derbies are at present enjoying a period of sanity. The one shown at the top of this page is, in my humhle opinion, just about what a derby ought to be. But how long it will remain "in style" the hatter only knows. One feels almost inclined to invest in half a dozen of them now, to put away for future use, w'hen freaks will be cluttering up the market again.

AS for the dress clothes themselves, they too are recovering from the strain of having been distorted. This year they will be snug— but not to the point of explosion—and exceedingly simple. No amusing buttons, no links across the chest, no meaningless cuffs on the sleeves.

If you are interested in the fine points of coat cutting, consult the pictures on this page: observe the curve of the coat front, showing more shirt near the tie than at the waist; the little wrinkles (shown in the sketches) in the sleeve where it joins the shoulder, put there to allow free arm movement; the little wrinkles over the hips of the dress coat, designed to make the tail hang properly; and the flare of the skirt of the dinner jacket. " Details," you protest. Yes, but in the case of the wrinkles, really important details.

(Continued on page 132)

(Continued from page 79)

The overcoat to be worn with dress clothes should always, of course, be of dark material, such as black or oxford gray. It may be double or single breasted and ought to have a velvet collar, and a slightly defined waist-line. Coats of this sort may be had in different weights, and most are more than warm enough for the coldest weather. This is good, because it gives people less excuse than ever for wearing those fur-lined broadcloth envelopes, which are not only ugly and clumsy, but ostentatious and savoring of the stage door.

EXTREMELY important in a man's dress kit are his waistcoats. And because they offer wide scope for the haberdasher's imagination, much care must be taken not to succumb to the charms of some of his exotic symphonies.

For my part I believe that one can do no better than to stick to the white pique waistcoat for full dress. There is a richness and a dignity about good pique that cannot be surpassed even by silks and satins, which carry with them a sort of flaunting impression of cash value that is by all means to be avoided in motor-cars, houses and clothes. It is possible, however, to obtain silk waistcoats that are unobtrusive, as, tez instance, the one pictured here.

MY preference in waistcoats for dinner jackets is for those that are made of the same material as the coat. But here again the question is entirely individual, and they who prefer silk can find good, quiet waistcoats of that material. Floral designs, which are apt to be florid, zigzags, tucks and pleats, have no place in waistcoats.

It has been considered permissible of recent years to wear a black waistcoat with full evening dress. I make no attempt to criticize this custom favorably or unfavorably. Compare the effect of both combinations and draw your own conclusions.

Gloves for evening wear are of two kinds: for outdoor and indoor purposes respectively. The outdoor gloves are white with black stitching. The indoor gloves are white with white stitching. At a pinch, one may wear light chamois gloves for the street.

Evening shirts are made in more varieties than books on the war. The best-dressed men, however, are wearing— as Vanity Fair had the honor to predict—stiffbosomed shirts for full dress and almost stiff ones with a dinner jacket.

Stiff bosoms are made either of plain linen or of figured pique. The cuffs should match. The semi-stiff shirts may have a few wide plaits, or groups of plaits, and stiff cuffs.

There are two standard evening collars: the poke (for full dress) and the wing collar with pointed tips (for both full and informal dress). The turnover collar, with the tie-ends tucked out of sight, is an innovation that is not objectionable for very informal occasions. But it must not be worn with a swallowtail.

(Continued on page 134)

(Continued from page 132)

Dress ties, like waistcoats, are to be had in both silk and piqué. Those made of the latter are a great deal harder to make into an attractive bow, but they are worth the added effort. Attempts have been made in the past to produce a ready-made tie that might take the place of the hand-maneuvered variety, thus saving time, temper and keeping down the profanity rate. None of these artful aids has succeeded. Like all shams, they were left alone by the bestdressed men, and died a natural death. The most efficient improvement designed to help men with clumsy fingers, and also to keep the bow in place when tied, is shown on page 132. This tie is too well known, and the picture is too clear to need explanation.

(Continued on page 136)

(Continued from page 134)

And now for a hundred words or so on the ticklish subject of jewelry for evening dress.

THERE is a prominent first-nighter in New Yrok—I need hardly mention his name—who is known far and wide for his astounding propensity to decorate himself. He could have been substituted for Mr. Dillingham's Tower of Jewels scene at the Hippodrome with certain success. He is a walking Kimberly. Fire spurts from a thousand facets on his snirt-front, his cuffs, his fingers, his watch fob. In fact, he all but wears ear-rings and a necklace. He always sits in the first row and it is said that actors get so interested in watching his illuminations that they sometimes forget to count the house. This, I may admit, is irrelevant, but the fact remains that the unnamed first-nighter carries an Arabian Nights' worth of glistening material on his person, and that several hundred people think they ought to imitate him.

And they are wrong. The only kind of jewelry that is in good taste with evening dress is the kind that is difficult to see at a distance of five feet. Mother of pearl, pearl and platinum are the most desirable materials. Gold, diamonds, rubies and other stones should be relegated to the safe deposit vault. Also, it is considered best not to wear any kind of watch guard, fob, or chain, with dress clothes.

The pedal extremities should not be neglected when a man is thinking of evening clothes. And patent leather should, in all cases, form part of the shoe or boot. Illustrated on this page are three of the four possible forms of evening footwear. The patent oxford (on the left, in the cut) is one of the most comfortable, practical and acceptable forms. It is especially good for dancing, because although it leaves the ankle free and cool, it doesn't continually slip off the heel.

The boot (in the centre) is obtainable in two variations: with a cloth top, as pictured here, and with a calf top. As with the oxford, this boot may be worn for formal or informal dress. It is liked by people who feel the cold and who like a little support for the ankle.

The pump—of patent leather—is always good form. Note the extremely thin, turned sole of this model. It is extremely light and flexible. A good many men prefer dull calf pumps to patent ones for wear with a dinner jacket, but to my mind the dull pump does not give nearly so much finish to one's appearance as does the patent.

CARE should be taken in selecting silk socks—and silk ones are best for evening wear—that exactly the right size is bought. Unless one is careful about this small point, the socks are apt to hang in festoons round the ankles. And, when one wears oxfords or pumps, trim ankles are essential. A sock that will always fit the ankle is shown on page 136, in the middle picture. It is a weird, somewhat juvenile looking object. But it stretches, and, when no longer on the foot, it contracts again. The other two socks shown are excellent for evening wear, although they lack the ankle-fitting feature. One. as you can see, is heavily ribbed. The other has a tiny, open-work clock.

(Continued on page 138)

(Continued from page 136)

A short while ago, some adventurous spirits thought it would be rather foxy to wear white socks with evening dress. Perhaps it was foxy. It was certainly in execrable taste.

Among the "lovely" things that one can use with dress clothes are handkerchiefs and mufflers. There is, of course, no ban on ordinary, common or everyday handkerchiefs, provided they come not under the heading of the bandana family (red, blue, yellow and similar shades). But it is rather attractive to use a special handkerchief with dress clothes; a special handkerchief such as that shown on this page, very sheer, fine, linen. The muffler ought to be white and, since it is worn in the street, it may have a small touch of color, although it is better without it. The one shown here has stripes of lavender at the ends.

A letter addressed to Vanity Fair will bring you in return the addresses of the shops where any of these articles may be bought, or the answer to any perplexing questions with regard to men's attire. The Vanity Fair Shoppers will at all times gladly do your buying for you at no extra charge