Revivalist Culture
A commission with Dolce & Gabbana’s Sartoria service shows THE RAKE a truth universally forgotten: that the suit always matters. And in our age of convenience, it is a radical choice.
No garment tells the history of man with as much narrative depth as the suit. Its shoulders and lapels have broadened and narrowed through confidence and crisis. In the years before Covid, the suit was pronounced dead. Then came the great correction — 2021, by my estimate — when men’s patience with tracksuits finally ran out. With time, solitude and money to burn, men began to interrogate their tastes, a task made easier by the internet and its endless forums and social channels. Tailoring began to return. Not out of nostalgia but choice.
It was into this moment that Dolce & Gabbana’s made-to- measure service, Sartoria, found itself perfectly placed. By then, the service had existed quietly for five years. When you add the authority of a house that was founded in 1985 and is steeped in the traditions of Italian tailoring, you have a brand that knows a thing or two about the suit. I was about to benefit from this knowledge with a newly commissioned outfit of my own.
The stage for this commission was Dolce & Gabbana’s flagship London store on New Bond Street — a 25,000 square-feet space recently refurbished according to plans drawn up by the designer Gwenaël Nicolas and his Tokyo-based studio, Curiosity.
The palette is strictly black and white. Baroque furniture (sourced from the homes of Domenico Dolce himself ) punctuates the space with appropriate drama. But the real showstopper is the marble staircase that spirals through the centre of the store, ushering the discerning customer across six floors.
The Sartoria client is received at a discreet location on the first floor. It was here I met my point man, Keyur Patel. Our journey began with a walk through the men’s ready-to-wear collection, during which he explained the philosophy behind the designs and how each piece had been infused with the brand’s DNA. Dolce & Gabbana appeared to be returning to first principles. The maximalist era — inflated by Alessandro Michele when he was at Gucci, and applauded for a time — has long been declared over by the fashion gods. The pendulum has swung back towards muted colours, softer fabrics and classic silhouettes. The press christened it ‘quiet luxury’.
The pendulum has swung back towards muted colours, softer fabrics and classic silhouettes. The press christened it ‘quiet luxury’.
After the tour, Keyur and I discussed my requirements. I told him I was looking for a relaxed double-breasted suit, a silhouette I had come to admire after seeing it worn by The Rake’s Tom Chamberlin, who once claimed, only half joking, that he was personally responsible for its revival. I am living proof that he may be right.
A double-breasted suit is dramatic and architectural, toeing a fine line between blazer and jacket. It satisfies my preference for garments that work hard while appearing effortless. It can be worn sprezzatura, unbuttoned, with a white T-shirt, stonewashed jeans and oxblood loafers. Or it can be paired with a polo neck or knit jumper in a more subtle, ‘power-behind-the-curtain’ sort of way.
Its shape flatters the wearer, bestowing upon them that V-shaped torso look coveted by men. A single-breasted suit, by comparison, feels meh.
With the structure agreed, we moved on to fabrics. When Keyur asked what colour I had in mind, I answered without hesitation: navy. It is the colour I favour above all others. To explain why, I refer to the words of the late maestro Giorgio Armani, a man known for his devotion to an all-navy uniform: “Navy blue is a stern yet gentle colour. It’s not as monastic and severe as black, but equally thoughtful... Navy blue projects an image of calm, and it actually relaxes me.”
Keyur produced several navy swatch books, which I flicked through until my eyes settled on one cloth in particular: a mid-weight virgin wool with elastane woven into a subtle crosshatch pattern. I have developed an appreciation for suits with a hint of stretch — enough to perform fatherly duties (lifting my young daughter, extracting her from car seats) without living in fear of seam tears. Fortunately, Tom Chamberlin was nearby. I showed him the fabric and he nodded his approval, confirming it as a solid year-round choice.
