Geese, Shirts
On Friday night my father and I ate dinner at Café des Architectes. The meal, overall, was fine; the entrees were adequate, the desserts somewhat disappointing. I'm sure there are better things on the menu than what we ate. But. BUT:
The foie gras (which is not on the copy of their menu available online). The foie gras was, simply, the best I have ever had. It was astonishing, life-alteringly good. I was a little shaken. I realized that if this had been the first foie gras I ever tried, then I would have soon after stopped eating it because I wouldn't be able to find anything to compare to this and would have been frustrated into disinterest by what my mother used to call "the strawberry of your mind". I believe the menu described it as "seared" - I could be wrong - but if it was indeed "seared" then that was only insofar as someone had taken the foie gras and waved it in the general direction of a fire several feet away. This was basically paté de foie gras, and from my first bite I was transported. My father, by the way, concurred with my superlatives, down to the "best I've ever had, by far." There are other ways to make foie gras and other directions to go with a paté, most if not all of which I greatly appreciate, but this...
It was so delicate and so creamy. My father suggested that it evolved in your mouth the way a sip of wine would if you delayed the swallow. For literally the first time in my life I offered my compliments to the chef. I stressed to the waiter that I was the sort of person who never expressed praise higher than "very good" in a restaurant, and then told him that this was "amazing". The rest of the meal after that was an inevitable letdown.
.....
As someone who enjoys dressing "nicely" when an appropriate opportunity presents itself, I've been for the most part happy with the expectation that I should wear suit (or jacket) and tie to my job. The only major issue I've had with that notion is that I don't have enough money to instantly buy myself into a respectably sized wardrobe for this purpose, which keeps me rotating the same three suits and one or two jackets over and over. I hope to pick up another suit or two in the near future, both for my satisfaction as well as the lifespan of my clothes.
There has been one other problem, though: the tie. The tie has historically been my least favorite element of the "dressed up" look. (Well, until you get into tuxedos, of which I'm not a particular fan, but I'm restricting myself here to the traditional business suit ensemble - what used to be semi-formal daywear for a professional man, but has become formalwear over the past fifty years or so.) I don't like ties not because of appearance or principle but because of physical discomfort. I don't like having things against my neck. From time to time I've worn a turtleneck, but I can only wear one for a few hours before the constant presence of something in constant contact with the entirety of my neck becomes oppressive. Similarly with the tie. Except in those circumstances where I feel the occasion really demands it (or, now, to please my boss), I enjoy wearing a suit with a shirt open at the collar, sans tie. The problem is exascerbated by the physical coordination of the tie and the shirt. To wit:
With a standard collar on a dress shirt, be it a point or a spread or a button-down*, the tie knot should properly be such that no part of the shirt is visible behind the knot. Otherwise, it seems as though the knot has been either sloppily tied or else loosened, whether or not this is the case. Ensuring that the knot entirely obscures the portion of the shirt over which it is situated provides a sharp, clean look. However, in practice, over the course of the day the tie will inevitably loosen slightly, providing a sliver of shirt over the knot. Thus we tighten the tie. Problem: tightening the tie to this extent tends to require tightening the knot back into the shirt, and hence into the neck, prepetuating and intensifying the discomforting sensation that something is pressing against a delicate and vital segment of my person. My father, who has less throat-discomfort issues than I do, is aware of this problem and suggested a logical technique whereby the shirt-front is pulled away from the body with the same hand which braces the tie while the other tightens the knot. This works, but only so far. Enter a solution, below the "not quite a" footnote.
*(NB: this is a major and unimportant pet peeve of mine - the "button-down" properly refers not to a dress shirt but to a particular sort of collar which you might find on a dress shirt; as a matter of fact, I prefer not to wear a button-down with a tie, it being a less formal collar to begin with. The button-down with tie is a particularly Brooks Brothers-y look - in fact, the button-down as a collar for dress shirts was, I believe, introduced by Brooks Brothers - and kind of Bostonian in a way that I'm not fond of, though otherwise I have nothing against Boston [except the Irish from Southie].)
I recently noted my father wearing dress shirts with a particularly attractive collar. It is basically a spread collar (though the same principle could work in a point) and I can neither find an illustrative picture on the internet nor determine a specific name. I believe that Ike Behar calls it a "Jerry," (if memory serves) but that's just the name for a line of their shirts. (My father will inquire of his favored clothier, from whom he has purchased a number of shirts with this collar, whether it has a specific designation.) The collar is such that rather than the collar-button passing through its hole in a vertical plane - one piece of fabric aligned flush with the neck imposed over another piece of fabric aligned flush over the neck - the two sides of the shirt cross over each other as though one is a hood over the other. It's a subtle effect but, as I said, quite attractive. Noting my appreciation of this design, my father recently gifted me with two shirts which share this attribute. (Both Ike Behar, which aside from the relative prominence of this collar in their line is one of my favorite, if not the absolute favorite, designer of men's shirts, although the much more budget conscious Jos. A. Bank wrinkle-resistant dress shirts have become appreciated workhorses of my job-specfic wardrobe.) And not only does it look fantastic, but I discover an unanticipated benefit:
The design of the collar obviates the need to hide the shirt behind the tie knot, because its very appearance indicates that you're not supposed to do that. The knot should be snug against the shirt, of course, but the collar is clearly intended to be visible above the tie knot due to the specifics of its design. And further, because of the curved, "hooded" effect, tightening the tie into the shirt means tightening it parallel to the body (i.e., moving it further up), and not into it. The added comfort was considerable. It generally takes only a few hours for me to want to remove a tie, but on the first day I wore this shirt it was after 5 PM before the vague discomfort set in.
Now if only I had the funds to purchase a great many of these marvelous shirts.
The foie gras (which is not on the copy of their menu available online). The foie gras was, simply, the best I have ever had. It was astonishing, life-alteringly good. I was a little shaken. I realized that if this had been the first foie gras I ever tried, then I would have soon after stopped eating it because I wouldn't be able to find anything to compare to this and would have been frustrated into disinterest by what my mother used to call "the strawberry of your mind". I believe the menu described it as "seared" - I could be wrong - but if it was indeed "seared" then that was only insofar as someone had taken the foie gras and waved it in the general direction of a fire several feet away. This was basically paté de foie gras, and from my first bite I was transported. My father, by the way, concurred with my superlatives, down to the "best I've ever had, by far." There are other ways to make foie gras and other directions to go with a paté, most if not all of which I greatly appreciate, but this...
It was so delicate and so creamy. My father suggested that it evolved in your mouth the way a sip of wine would if you delayed the swallow. For literally the first time in my life I offered my compliments to the chef. I stressed to the waiter that I was the sort of person who never expressed praise higher than "very good" in a restaurant, and then told him that this was "amazing". The rest of the meal after that was an inevitable letdown.
.....
As someone who enjoys dressing "nicely" when an appropriate opportunity presents itself, I've been for the most part happy with the expectation that I should wear suit (or jacket) and tie to my job. The only major issue I've had with that notion is that I don't have enough money to instantly buy myself into a respectably sized wardrobe for this purpose, which keeps me rotating the same three suits and one or two jackets over and over. I hope to pick up another suit or two in the near future, both for my satisfaction as well as the lifespan of my clothes.
There has been one other problem, though: the tie. The tie has historically been my least favorite element of the "dressed up" look. (Well, until you get into tuxedos, of which I'm not a particular fan, but I'm restricting myself here to the traditional business suit ensemble - what used to be semi-formal daywear for a professional man, but has become formalwear over the past fifty years or so.) I don't like ties not because of appearance or principle but because of physical discomfort. I don't like having things against my neck. From time to time I've worn a turtleneck, but I can only wear one for a few hours before the constant presence of something in constant contact with the entirety of my neck becomes oppressive. Similarly with the tie. Except in those circumstances where I feel the occasion really demands it (or, now, to please my boss), I enjoy wearing a suit with a shirt open at the collar, sans tie. The problem is exascerbated by the physical coordination of the tie and the shirt. To wit:
With a standard collar on a dress shirt, be it a point or a spread or a button-down*, the tie knot should properly be such that no part of the shirt is visible behind the knot. Otherwise, it seems as though the knot has been either sloppily tied or else loosened, whether or not this is the case. Ensuring that the knot entirely obscures the portion of the shirt over which it is situated provides a sharp, clean look. However, in practice, over the course of the day the tie will inevitably loosen slightly, providing a sliver of shirt over the knot. Thus we tighten the tie. Problem: tightening the tie to this extent tends to require tightening the knot back into the shirt, and hence into the neck, prepetuating and intensifying the discomforting sensation that something is pressing against a delicate and vital segment of my person. My father, who has less throat-discomfort issues than I do, is aware of this problem and suggested a logical technique whereby the shirt-front is pulled away from the body with the same hand which braces the tie while the other tightens the knot. This works, but only so far. Enter a solution, below the "not quite a" footnote.
*(NB: this is a major and unimportant pet peeve of mine - the "button-down" properly refers not to a dress shirt but to a particular sort of collar which you might find on a dress shirt; as a matter of fact, I prefer not to wear a button-down with a tie, it being a less formal collar to begin with. The button-down with tie is a particularly Brooks Brothers-y look - in fact, the button-down as a collar for dress shirts was, I believe, introduced by Brooks Brothers - and kind of Bostonian in a way that I'm not fond of, though otherwise I have nothing against Boston [except the Irish from Southie].)
I recently noted my father wearing dress shirts with a particularly attractive collar. It is basically a spread collar (though the same principle could work in a point) and I can neither find an illustrative picture on the internet nor determine a specific name. I believe that Ike Behar calls it a "Jerry," (if memory serves) but that's just the name for a line of their shirts. (My father will inquire of his favored clothier, from whom he has purchased a number of shirts with this collar, whether it has a specific designation.) The collar is such that rather than the collar-button passing through its hole in a vertical plane - one piece of fabric aligned flush with the neck imposed over another piece of fabric aligned flush over the neck - the two sides of the shirt cross over each other as though one is a hood over the other. It's a subtle effect but, as I said, quite attractive. Noting my appreciation of this design, my father recently gifted me with two shirts which share this attribute. (Both Ike Behar, which aside from the relative prominence of this collar in their line is one of my favorite, if not the absolute favorite, designer of men's shirts, although the much more budget conscious Jos. A. Bank wrinkle-resistant dress shirts have become appreciated workhorses of my job-specfic wardrobe.) And not only does it look fantastic, but I discover an unanticipated benefit:
The design of the collar obviates the need to hide the shirt behind the tie knot, because its very appearance indicates that you're not supposed to do that. The knot should be snug against the shirt, of course, but the collar is clearly intended to be visible above the tie knot due to the specifics of its design. And further, because of the curved, "hooded" effect, tightening the tie into the shirt means tightening it parallel to the body (i.e., moving it further up), and not into it. The added comfort was considerable. It generally takes only a few hours for me to want to remove a tie, but on the first day I wore this shirt it was after 5 PM before the vague discomfort set in.
Now if only I had the funds to purchase a great many of these marvelous shirts.
posted by medrawt at
00:23
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