The London Lounge

The other day I had the chance to visit an independent tailor in a small village in the hills of Sicily. The tailor, steaming iron in hand in an already steaming room, was working on a coat while his wife patiently sewed buttonholes a few feet away. Visits like these are truly voyages back in time as the pictures, adverts, and other decorations in the small dark room suggested a long time practice, many generations making clothes by hand when that was the only alternative. The coat the tailor was manipulating actually had pretty nice lines with the straight lapels and low slug pockets typical of Sicilian manufacture.

“I do the cutting and sewing, my wife finishes” he explained. I sat down on a small wood bench next to his lady and watched her sew the way many of us would like to see our garments sewn. Her hands moved swiftly and efficiently working the needle and thread effortlessly. “Those are lovely buttonholes”, I said, “but why did you choose a color with such a stark contrast?” The green fabric had been paired with a very dark colored thread. “So the buttonholes, and my work can be seen and admired”, came the reply.

Italian tailors in general do look for stark contrasts in the way an English tailor might prefer a subtle one. “Its very nice indeed, but if you chose another thread..”, I tried to explain, “it could be seen just as well but not be quite so present, not so vivid to the eye, something with less contrast.” The tailor put down his iron, came over for a look and said “you mean something that is seen but not seen.” If it had been a Visconti film there would have been a clap of thunder in the background at that precise moment and a downpour of rain. Dirk Bogarde would pale and say, “Seen but not seen, yes, that’s it indeed” and then stagger from the room.

The tailor crafted more than a coat that day, he crafted a very simple and yet immensely efficient description of elegance.

My first thoughts were to Blake, Swedenborg, Boehme, Baudelaire, Balzac, Yeats, Dylan Thomas, Malcolm Lowry those who wrote about presence and correspondences, present and corresponding realities.

Nature is a temple where living pillars
Let sometimes emerge confused words;
Man crosses it through forests of symbols
Which watch him with intimate eyes.

Like those deep echoes that meet from afar
In a dark and profound harmony,
As vast as night and clarity,
So perfumes, colours, tones answer each other.

Correspondences
Charles Baudelaire

For each of these writers there is a stimulating occurrence, an illumination that allows vision from the material to another parallel and ideal world. The German mystic Boehme wrote “whosoever findeth it findeth nothing and all things….for it is deeper than anything, and is as nothing to all things, for it is not comprehensible; and because it is nothing, it is free from all things, and it is that only Good, which a man cannot express or utter what it is.” If you find it, you find nothing. If you see it, you see nothing: seen but not seen.

We are often hopeless to select words before the vision of something elegant. The combination of “colors and tones” assorted in such a way have a magnetic pleasing effect. The search for this effect and pleasure is one of the key motivating factors for those who like Balzac call themselves “elegantologists.”

This is not intended to be an essay on Plato, Christian mystics, symbolist poetry or the side effects of acute opium addiction. Ask yourself the next time you dress if the effect you wish to create is “seen but not seen.”

One practical example comes from the recently released Best of Both tweed from the Cloth Club. In designing this cloth I wished the crimson red windowpane to be seen, because the color is pleasing and not often found associated correctly in most patterns. In order to make the very brightly colored window “not seen” I had to find a way to balance its effect. The brown Glen check, once its color was of the proper hue, was able to hide the crimson without hiding it, making it seen but not seen. The resulting pattern is not flat, even though nothing stands out. It is rich, dense and harmonious and has a pleasing visual effect.

Why do certain colors, combinations, symbols have such an impact? A neurologist would probably tell us that they elicit electric responses in x set of neurons. And it is probably so. But what is it that we see when we see it, that which is unseen?

Cheers

Michael

Beautiful.

alden wrote:I tried to explain, “it could be seen just as well but not be quite so present, not so vivid to the eye, something with less contrast.”

As I read this, what came to mind was, "The whole is greater than its parts."

Let me illustrate: A friend once asked me why I liked subtle classics of good quality, particularly ones with no brand name showing. He protested that people will not know I'm wearing something they should be impressed by. I conceded this for the most part but insisted that while my jacket, or whatever, wouldn't shout to the casual observer, those I encountered would be touched by my presence in a way they couldn't explain or might not even realize. No particular detail would stand out, but the whole would work well. To me, this is preferable. (Of course, preferable to this even is the shining forth of character, what the Germans call "Ausstrahlung." Something else I aspire to.)

Dear MTM,

Have you been to Germany, do you have German relatives or how did you learn about the word "Ausstrahlung"?

This, along with super visible pickstitching, is one of the things that separates the good Italian tailors from the great ones. Somebody has to be pretty secure in their product not to flaunt it, at least in Italy.

M Alden,

I think I can add something to this wonderful thread you've started, even if most fellow LL members may have more/better direct knowledge (more experience, too) regarding bespoke clothing than me.

In a way what you say about seeing the unseen can relate to something common to many (if not all) aspects of British society and culture: subtleness (even though this may not seem obvious within it, it surely is from another society/culture). Subtleness is basically that, making something so unnoticeable that once it is noticed it shows its unnoticeable nature. It is seen, but it is seen as the unseen. This is present in clothing (for modern western clothing has its origins in Britain). Not only with buttonholes colours, but also with any kind of details (overchecks, carnations matching shoe colour, a hat’s band complementing a tie’s stripes, etc) or in general (in an English-styled dress, no garment stands out: what would the jacket be without a trouser? Or vest without a shirt? Or a tie without a belt? Or the shoes without a hat? Or any of these without any of the other?). A good example of this in clothing was the Prince of Wales, who (up to what I know) could wear the loudest of checks without looking ridiculous (and today many men manage to look ridiculous even in the most boring and obvious business-driven charcoal/dark grey/navy suits).


Something that may serve as a starting point to answering your questions is looking at colour theory (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Color_theory). I came across this interesting science (i.e. collection of knowledge) with undoubtedly valuable information through the fantastic blog ‘A Suitable Wardrobe’ (http://asuitablewardrobe.dynend.com/200 ... color.html). Something truly interesting about this area of knowledge is the opposition of its artistic view from its scientific view: for the former, black is the mixture of all colours and white is the absence of colour; for the latter, black is absence if light/colour, and white the presence of all light/colours; for the former, the ‘primary colours’ are red, yellow and blue (the RYB model, or subtractive colour model http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subtractive_color); for the latter, the primary colours are red, green and blue (the RGB model, or additive colour model, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RGB_color_model); the former studies the behaviour of colour within matter mixtures (paint, ink, dye, pigment); the studies the behaviour of colour within light mixtures. Of most importance for us is the artistic colour theory, which started to be developed by the archetypical homo universalis, Leonardo Da Vinci. As described in the blog’s entry, and using the colour wheel, there are monochromatic colour schemes (midnight blue jacket, navy blue vest, sky blue shirt), analogous colour schemes (composed of colours adjacent to each other on the wheel, say a purple sweater worn under a maroon jacket, and a dark blue tie), complementary colour schemes (the colours opposite on the wheel are complementary, such as light blue jacket and orange trousers). The three relationships between colours in the wheel have an effect moving to subtleness in clothing: monochromatic combinations spread the lightness/brightness/value of a colour resulting in the reduction of the effect of its hue (in simple words, a light blue shirt will make a navy blue tie look less blue), analogous combinations can affect a colour’s (either with other garments or within the same garment) saturation/chroma/colourfulness by adding other hues (i.e. a dark blue jacket with a light green glen plaid and a light blue windowpane), and complementary combinations manipulate lightness through hue (i.e. they make the other colour look brighter). What the three have in common is that they make things stand out by making them less obvious, or, in your own words, they make the unseen to be seen. I hope this serves for something.


PS: Its always good to meet another Visconti admirer.

alden wrote: Why do certain colors, combinations, symbols have such an impact? A neurologist would probably tell us that they elicit electric responses in x set of neurons. And it is probably so. But what is it that we see when we see it, that which is unseen?l

I guess that a poststructuralist point of view would sound something like this: the elegance of "seen but not seen" is an art pour le art, a way of positioning oneself AS IF one is beyond the vulgar game of positioning oneself in relation to other people.

But this type of marxist explanation lacks something: you find several examples of people who are attracted to beauty/elegance even though it doesn't serve them it relation to other people.

In other words, the beauty of textiles, colors, style cannot be reduced to an instrumental logic. There IS something that talk to an inner need for beauty beyond the social world.

Gruto wrote:

alden wrote: Why do certain colors, combinations, symbols have such an impact? A neurologist would probably tell us that they elicit electric responses in x set of neurons. And it is probably so. But what is it that we see when we see it, that which is unseen?l

But this type of marxist explanation lacks something: you find several examples of people who are attracted to beauty/elegance even though it doesn't serve them it relation to other people.

In other words, the beauty of textiles, colors, style cannot be reduced to an instrumental logic. There IS something that talk to an inner need for beauty beyond the social world.

Outstanding. I agree completely. Physics, biology, and social theory are ways we can explain some aspects of the attraction of beauty, but as you say so well, there is "an inner need for beauty beyond the social world." Thus, neoplatonists (like Plotinus)and the Christian theologians who appropriated some of their thought (Augustine, Aquinas, and Lonergan) would say that Beauty is a "transcendental," along w/ the Good, the True, the One, and - some would add - Love. A natural desire for a supernatural fulfillment, acc. TA.

le.gentleman, I spent a wonderful semester abroad at Tuebingen and went back a few years later for a year of grad work. I love Germany and Germans.

MTM,

you must have a schwäbischer accent then .