Dressing your age.....hmm

How old were you when you first bit the bullet and consigned your trusty baseball cap to the bin? And how many days went by before you fished it from a slew of crisp wrappers and empty baked bean tins?

Maybe it’s been so long since you practised the fine art of backwards headgear that you can feel yourself falling feet-first into a pair of carpet slippers—or perhaps you’ve already given in to the shapeless charms of a guilty pair of one-size-fits-all joggers.

The thing is, as much as spiked hair, stubble or the wispy grey bits over our ears, our wardrobes are a pretty clear indicator of our age—of our maturity and seriousness. Which is exactly why we retrieved our Jurassic Park hat in the first place.

Those of you who were wiping off the tomato sauce and bending the peak back into shape inside an hour know what we mean. The ones who’d traded it in for a flat cap by the time they were ten have got their own issues to deal with. Because it’s not just chucking out the cap that’s taking up valuable DVD space—it’s putting away childish things. Which is basically the same as admitting we’ll never win the Formula 1 or become best mates with Stan Lee—and what would be the point then?

Obviously we’re not advocating wearing your Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles t-shirt and Hi-Tec light-up trainers for the rest of your life—besides being relationship suicide (“Come back to your place? Cowabunga!”), there’d be some fairly hefty Bruce Banner/Hulk-size practicalities to contend with. What we are saying though is that when it comes to dressing your age, rules, as they say, are made to be broken.

Take that man Tinie Tempah. Recently voted GQ’s Best-Dressed Man of the Year, he’s a 23-year-old rapper who can pull off a thick-ribbed brown granddad cardi—just add a beanie and a t-shirt. Meanwhile at 31 and just swaggered off the set of Drive and The Ides of March, Ryan Gosling can do no wrong on or off-screen: just pull on a round-neck, long-sleeve tee, simple jeans and man bling to update the traditional flat cap.

Now a 36-year-old father of four, Becks can still get away with a hoodie without looking like he swiped it from Brooklyn’s bedroom floor. Hell, he even modelled long-johns for his H&M Bodywear collection and made them look modern with the aid of just a side-sweep and a couple of days of stubble. 

One look at Bradley Cooper and all is forgiven for that unfortunate misstep post-The Hangover (see TheHangover 2); at 37 and sporting a leather jacket, hoodie and light trousers, he’s still flying the flag for our beloved baseball cap.

Elsewhere D:Ream popstar-turned-physicist (remember Things Can Only Get Better?) Professor Brian Cox proves he’s more than just a pretty good brain—he’s a master of not only which of Jupiter’s moons would be the most likely home to ewoks (Europa, thank you very much QI), but also how to wear a t-shirt with a bright yellow graphic at 44. Answer: with a slim black leather jacket.

But the man to match as you pass your mid-century has got to be Gary Oldman—and we’re not just talking his mean strut down the Prada catwalk in that double-breasted black coat. He’s got the classic dignified gent down over his 54 years—but with a mutinous patterned tie worn loose like a day scarf. What a Tinker.

So what’s the trick? How are all these grown men parading around in hoodies and t-shirts; these young guns kicking back in cardis and flat caps, and all without so much as a back-handed compliment (you’d think there’d be a ‘kick me’ sign, at least)?

It’s that they’re not just dressing for their age: they’re dressing for their attitude. Yes, Gary Oldman’s probably heard the whole diatribe about picking a smart signature look in your fifties and running with it, and there’s no doubt Tinie Tempah knows it’s easier to break out the brights when you don’t have wrinkles to inadvertently draw attention to, but at both ends of the spectrum, you can bet each man is getting togged up just the way they like it.

Can you wear a flat cap in your twenties? With a simple, modern outfit and the confident charm to let it be known that’s not a smoking pipe in your pocket. A hoodie in your forties? As long as it’s with vintage jeans and an outdoorsy brown denim jacket—and you’ve got the scars and adventure stories to authenticate it.

It all boils down to the man you want to be: the suave type in suit and tie with the wit to back it up; the distinguished elder in blazer and block-coloured cotton top; or the dissenter among the ranks in a checked shirt, vintage jeans and a baseball cap.

Get Shirty..........

Like the best friend who talks you up at the bar but can be trusted not to pull out his own moves, a solid white shirt is the wingman that means the rest of your wardrobe gets to bring its A-game.

There are obviously pretenders to the title—under a blazer or a leather jacket your basic short-sleeve white tee is one—but try pulling that tee over a brighter top or pairing it with vintage jeans and you realise old faithful is punching above its weight.

The white shirt, meanwhile, has character: it can match the smarts of your tailored suit jacket without pulling focus from the cool narrow lapels; it’ll drag your granddad cardi by the stubbly scruff of the neck into 2012; and it can hold its own against your joggers so well you’re a Henley jersey, a denim jacket and a pair of leather football boots away from wearing them without breaking a sweat.

And that’s all straight off the hanger. If you’ve got an extra two minutes to roll up the sleeves to just above the elbow, you’ve gone from working stiff to man in the know. Wrap a bow tie around the collar and add a trilby and you’re one smooth son of a gun. Or undo the buttons, wear it over a logo tee and finish with jeans and good-quality trainers if you’re going for Facebook/Google/Twitter/Angry Birds millionaire.

Another thing: while it probably took years of hangovers and drunken admissions to get to know your real-life best bud, all it takes is a couple of minutes and a few pointers to work out whether a shirt’s worth the commitment. First up: sleeve length. Stick it under a suit jacket and you should see a quarter to half an inch. Get it right and you’re Michael Fassbender.

Screw it up and you’re a 14-year-old who’s been at your dad’s wardrobe. Then it’s all about the shoulders: they should stop where yours do—or else the Eighties want their shoulder pads back. As for the collar, if you can get a finger or two between that and your neck then you’re spot on. Finally, check the fit around your midriff—it shouldn’t cling, and it shouldn’t billow. That is unless you’ve been wrestling with the guilt of confessing who ate all the pies.

Our recommendation: the Piers Solid Shirt by—would you believe it?—Wolsey.... It’s got your long sleeves, your tailored fit, and a chest pocket that’s begging for this season’s paisley square. But the best part is, since it’s 100% cotton it’s in it for the long haul. Which means that it could still have your back long after last orders.

Origins of the London Man

Where does the Sultan of Oman get his shirts? Savile Row, obviously. Same goes for the costumes for 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Beatles for the cover of Abbey Road. Jack Nicholson’s Joker was a golden mile man, and every suit Sean Connery ever wore as Bond was made right round the corner on Conduit Street.

Is it any wonder the rest of the world has London pegged as a fashion Mecca when we’ve got 007 racing a Ferrari in an Aston Martin DB5, all the while cutting an iconic silhouette in a style of suit—the so-called Conduit Cut—that was conceived mere metres away from Hamleys?

But it’s more than that. Beyond the Prince Charleses and the Fred Astaires having their in-seams tape-measured in basement studios surrounded by rolls of cloth and mannequins, London 2012 has Mark Ronson sporting trainers with a pea coat, Benedict Cumberbatch finishing a suit jacket with a lightweight scarf, and Tinie Tempah on the front row at London Fashion Week in black glasses and glitter loafers.

Rather than Milan’s blasé decadence, Paris’s brazen sophistication or New York’s urbanised professionalism, London has made rebellion its frontman. We can’t mix patterns, wear trainers with suits or put a shirt on with rolled-up joggers, you say? Oh yes we bloody can. And why should we chuck out our flat cap, vintage jeans and wool blazer? They’ll all look outstanding with our new gig t-shirt.

But where did this London Man come from? Was he locked in his room as a child and forced to wear nothing but Nineties neon shellsuits until finally he dissented with a bow tie, pink shirt and tweed jacket? Or is he a product of natural selection: did he evolve into gilets, chinos and deck shoes while watching his less stylish counterparts blend into the nigh-on 8 million-strong London crowd, never given the opportunity to proliferate their ill-fitting trousers and bland sweaters?

Perhaps. After all, there must be some pressures of dwelling in Europe’s most populous municipality that can be at least partly resolved by the appropriate attire. Take the Game Theory scene from A Beautiful Mind: for the uninitiated, you and three friends are at a bar, when a blonde and four brunettes walk in. Each of you wants to talk to the blonde, but if you all go for broke she’ll feel harassed, you’ll all lose out, and the brunettes won’t want to be second best—whereas if you all agree to talk to a brunette, you radically improve your chances of not going home alone tonight. Imagine this scenario if rather than those three friends, your competitors are the tens of blokes in an overpopulated London bar. Wearing a blue naval jacket, white slacks and high-neck linen shirt next to their metropolitan camouflage, the blonde is the one coming over to talk to you.

It’s not just the Savile Row history, the evergreen kudos for popularising the academic scarf, deerstalker and Harrington jacket, or the competition for jobs and someone to share your coffee with in the morning that have made London men some of the best-dressed in the world though—it has to be said, the capital also has the right equipment.

From the world’s envy, Central Saint Martins, churning out the likes of Alexander McQueen—and incidentally his successor Sarah Burton—to Zandra Rhodes’s Fashion and Textile Museum gearing up to inspire the next generation before they even get that far, London is firmly at the design forefront.

And once the capital’s ostensible enfants terrible finally graduate from this or one of our other fine establishments—London College of Fashion or The London Fashion School spring to mind—it’s the attitude of not just the British Fashion Council but the city itself that its menswear offering benefits from next. While they may be smart enough not to actually go walking down Regent Street in blue face-paint and charcoal eyeshadow (here’s looking at you, Alexander McQueen circa 2005), London men are open-minded enough to try something new—after all, it’s in their style genotype to break the rules.

Then there’s London Fashion Week, the twice-annual clothing cavalcade without which no true disquisition on menswear in the Big Smoke would be complete. Every February and September, the city is in thrall to its catwalks and their designers—a deserved parade of self-congratulation, and if nothing else, the cause of an influx of male models with which its residents again find they have to compete.

But the big one, the real driving force behind Londoners’ singular style, has got to be its pulling power. We’re not talking its ability to encourage pouting beauties to let it by them another drink—rather its draw for designers, tailors and fashion engineers from all over the country and worldwide. Even Wolsey, Leicester-based and proud of our roots, was tempted giggling and blushing into a Covent Garden premises, from which to add our own brand of knits and kecks to the coveted scene. With such choice of casual and formalwear, vintage and new-made in the city’s countless boutiques, who can blame the London Man for wanting to throw on a bit of everything?

How to Conquer Everest, Design a Car and Save the World

It’s 59 years next month since Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay first shook the snow off their treads at the top of Mount Everest. Which got us thinking: what was it about the beekeeper from New Zealand and the Sherpa from Nepal that meant they were planting flags left, right and centre while the rest of us were distracted by Ian Fleming’s first Bond novel? And what mental attributes and personality traits should we be cultivating if we want to leave our own boot-print on the history books?

There’s no denying Hillary and Norgay had guts—they slept in a tent on the side of a mountain at 27,900 feet, woke up to Hillary’s boots frozen in the snow, and had to cram themselves into a crack in the ice and make their way up the 40 feet to the top an inch at a time. But by all accounts, the two men who first stood at the highest point on the planet weren’t what you think.

Obviously they were motivated, driven, passionate—if conquering Everest required anything less than staunch determination, gritted teeth and an inhuman resistance to our own natural musk, none of us would be getting remembered for it—but there was no arrogance, no ego, no selfishness. Hillary was the guy who threw a rope down to Norgay after he’d made it through the crack in the ice on his own and Norgay was the one who acknowledged to the press that it was the New Zealander who took the first step on the summit, even after Hillary swore they did it at the same time.

So from these two pioneers we’ve got that backbone, dedication and good old-fashioned camaraderie are the way to go if there’s a view from 29,028 feet in your future—but what if we’d rather be on the other end of a steering wheel or a knife and fork than on top of the world?

If 40-year-old billionaire Elon Musk is anything to go by, turning out what’s widely regarded as the first feasible production electric car of our generation—the refreshingly easy-on-the-eye Tesla Roadster—was all a matter of using your initiative. At 10 years old, rather than falling out of trees and keeping spiders in jam jars, he was teaching himself to programme a computer; come his 12^th birthday, he’d sold his first game. In short, he’s the kind of sickeningly talented guy who makes the rest of us want to hang up our ties for good.

But before you slip your brogues onto some forgotten shoe rack at the back of your wardrobe and vow never again to switch on your laptop—except maybe for YouTube—consider inventor and molecular gastronomer Homaro Cantu. The poster-boy for self-belief, creative thinking and turning adversity to your advantage, he had plenty of catching up to do between growing up on the street and promoting his food replicator and mberry, which could help fight world hunger.

Now you’ve got the basics down—fortitude, enterprise, confidence—it’s up to you whether you want to be the next Hillary. As the explorer said: “People do not decide to become extraordinary. They decide to accomplish extraordinary things.”

Wolsey Launches Flagship Store on Brewer Street, Soho, London

British men’s clothing brand Wolsey has opened its first ever flagship store on Brewer Street. Located in Soho - the heart of central London’s shopping district -the new store will sell the latest collections in an environment that captures the very essence of Wolsey’s brand values.

Established in 1755, Wolsey has clothed some of Britain’s bravest and most inspirational men: explorers, soldiers, pioneers and royalty. Today Wolsey continues to craft exceptional clothing for men of exploration and adventure. Inspired by its unrivalled history, Wolsey’s Spring / Summer 2012 collection is a contemporary range influenced by iconic menswear classics.

The store’s aesthetic takes inspiration from the brand’s original Leicester factory, still the location of its brand operations. The references can be seen in the brick walls, brushed steel beams and wooden fixtures, also demonstrating Wolsey’s principled consideration for material sourcing. Salvaged, prismatic pendants light the windows; whilst low hanging 1940s British industrial pendant light fixtures give an industrial edge to the interiors. Contrasting with this are cut and sewn Persian rugs and original draper’s cabinets. This distinguished contrast gives a welcoming, relaxed and contemporary feel that reflects Wolsey’s commitment to celebrating its history and crafting contemporary design.

The attention to detail that has gone into every aspect of the store is a continuation of the process applied to each Wolsey garment, whether it is the button detailing or fabric choices.

This authentic and original store reflects the inherent brand values of Wolsey, with the subtle interior and furnishings perfectly complimenting the quality and craftsmanship of the product.