THE THING ABOUT SUITS

So here’s the thing: suits are an extremely useful form of communication; a language which must be learned and translated just like any other.  They are also indirectly responsible for my latest obsession… but we’ll get to that later.

As a country bumpkin, born and bred, my contact with suits has been restricted to the occasional businessman on my town’s high-street, or the off-the-rack poorly fitted specimens draping my teachers at school.  Even these private school employees had not effectively utilised the power of the suit, instead casting off crumpled jackets the minute they reached their desks and just generally being surrounded by an air of sartorial neglect.  These, I decided, were not suits.

University saw an improvement in the deciphering of this heretofore elusive language.  Young men and tutors from all over the country brought their finest two-pieces for special occasions.  However, there was still something missing.  Perhaps the problem did not lie in the suits themselves, but rather in the lack of respect shown by those in them?  My three years saw far too many beer stains and lining tears to count.

However, the year 2013 marked a momentous occasion in my life.  An oasis was found in the desert of men’s formal fashion, and his name?  Harvey Specter.  This denizen of suit-dom has forever revolutionised the language of suits.  His three-piece (yes, there is usually a waistcoat involved) combinations are nothing short of mouth-watering, as befitting the powerful unparalleled lawyer he plays in the programme called, you guessed it, ‘Suits.’  Gabriel Macht brings this legal prodigy to life with style and witty repartee, along with his right hand man, Mike Ross, and secretary, the indomitable Donna.  For us rural folk, the series invites us to take an irresistible peek into the fast-paced world of New York’s law firms and the perpetual battle between integrity and victory for supremacy.  

Forget subtitles, no woman alive can fail to translate the sheer masterfulness of Harvey Specter, both in and out of the courtroom and I hereby dub him Sultan of Saville Row, Prince of the Pin-stripe, Tutor of Tailoring, President of the suit-Press, God of the… ahem.  You get the idea...