When is a suit not a suit?
I have had one of those strange (but entirely banal) epiphanies that come to one during the boring parts of meetings.
Sitting in Committee Room 4 of the House of Lords last Thursday during a meeting of the Attorney General’s Equality and Diversity Group, I tuned out of the meeting and looked down at the point where the hem of my suit jacket lay over the legs of my suit trousers.
Only it wasn’t a suit.
The jacket has a single chalk stripe, I noticed, whereas the trousers have a double-chalk stripe. And the cloth is slightly different.
In October I was in Messrs Shepherd and Woodward, the excellent and slightly old-fashioned gents outfitters on the High in Oxford to buy a suit. I found one that I really liked - dark merino with a chalk stripe. I tried on a jacket. It fitted. I tried on the trousers, and they were, well, just a tad on the small side. The chap who was serving me looked around and found another pair of trousers, slightly larger. They fitted beautifully and the whole suit looked and felt a treat.
I wore the suit several times in Haifa in January. Nobody noticed anything odd. I’ve worn it in London since my return. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary. Not until I looked down at my legs during the Attorney General’s meeting did I realize that the shop assistant must have picked pair of trousers from another design of suit. I had bought a suit that isn’t actually a suit.
I had to point this out to Erica when I got home. She hadn’t noticed either.
So why am I so bothered about this? I’m annoyed that I could have been so unobservant in the shop! But if no one else has noticed, why should I worry? I shall continue to wear the “suit” with pride, and if anyone comments I shall claim that the suit was designed like that and that there’s another one exactly like it somewhere in England.
What do you think? Is this a suit? Or not?
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17 comments
Barney,
“It will ride up with wear.” No, I guess that doesn’t fit, but I’m sure that if you watch enough reruns of “Are you being served?” the very same suit dilemma will be shown : )
Warmest Baha’i greetings,
Reed
Oh, I loved “Are You Being Served?” I am old enough and British enough to have seen the show when it was new.
I’m sure my particular suit dilemma must have been part of a gag in “Are You Being Served?”
Well, seems to me that a Barney is worse than London Transport; you wait das for a post, when all of a sudden 5 turn up all at once!
My pedantic mien states that it isn’t a suit if troos and jacket don’t match; however my practical side reckons you can wear anything so long as you get away with it!
On the other hand, would your outfitters offer you the right pair of trousers if you asked nicely? We British do take these sort of things rather seriously…
Toby, good to hear from you. I’m really sorry not have to posted for so long, but I have been unbelievably busy and I suddenly found a window of opportunity last night to hammer out several posts. I set them to publish themselves at different times, but it is a bit “boom or bust” (not, of course, that I have a bust, if you’ll forgive the rather sad attempt at British seaside humour).
You have highlighted exactly my dilemma. Can I refer to this collection of garments as a suit? Or would I be lying if were to do so? What will happen when you see me wearing said jacket and trousers and I ask you, “Do you like my suit?” Will you guffaw loudly and say, “That’s not a suit!” Or will you tactfully say how nice it is and then go and snigger behind your hand when I have left the scene?
What, what am I to do?
I think I’ve worn the garments too many times to take them back to Shepherd and Woodward with a good heart and request the right pair of trousers. You see, I’m British enough not to want to cause a fuss, while being embarrassed at wearing an “unsuit”.
You would be lying should you refer to said garments as a suit; henceforth you should ask people for their opinion of your ‘jacket & complementing trousers.’ I shall be keeping a sharp eye on you to ensure compliance.
It seems terribly unfair, but those are the legalities, I’m afraid!
Should we meet, I shall ensure solidarity by making sure I’m wearing clothes which don’t match :).
It’s an interesting philosophical point. Note how firmly united your jacket and trousers are, despite their differences! So unified that to the outward eye, they are as but one suit!
The Oxford English Dictionary defines a suit as “A set of garments or habiliments intended to be worn together at the same time”. The question here is the intent behind it. I have a grey pinstripe suit jacket, which I’d never even consider wearing with my cream houndstooth trousers - because they were never intended to be worn together. But in your case, because both yourself and the professional suit-salesman (suitor?) intended you to wear those trousers with that jacket, I think you can be justified in calling it a suit. Thus spake the linguistics student.
It must have been Humphries–or was it Mr. Granger–that gave you that pair of slacks! This should be a collectors item….
Toby, Rory, such wonderful points you both make! I shall be careful (in Toby’s presence at least) not to refer to these garments as “a suit”. However, when Rory’s in the neighbourhood, I shall free to call them “my suit”. Toby, I never thought you would so legalistic, but I do appreciate the offer of practical solidarity.
Rory, I wonder if I wear a blazer and almost matching trousers I could say I was intending to wear these garments as a suit, ergo they are a suit? Hmm. Not so sure about intent.
Bilo, it was definitely Mr Humphries!
If it’s any consolation I once bought a pair of shoes which in bright daylight turned out to be one black and one very, very dark blue… Like you, I’d worn them several times.
Isn’t it strange how unobservant we can be on occasion, particularly when we assume that we are looking at “a suit” or “a pair of shoes”. Tess, what did you do with your “non-pair” of shoes?
I think a “suit” comprising a slightly mis-matched jacket and trousers expresses you perfectly. Mainstream, but with a hint of non-conformity that gradually becomes apparent.
You’re not the first Baha’i public figure to break out, sartorially. Dwight Allen apparently went in for custom-tailored African shirts around the time he was a member of the US NSA.
You asked what I did with my non-pair of shoes. It was strange - after I realised they were not a ‘pair’ I couldn’t wear them any more, even though I knew logically that no-one would notice. I didn’t really decide not to wear them, they just sat in my wardrobe. Eventually I recycled them.
Interest story about Dwight, Steve, thanks for the link. Peter Smith in Thailand has been trying to persuade me to seek my sartorials in Bangkok! I have to say I think the standard Western business suit is about the most boring kind of mens wear. I have often looked at the shirts and robes worn by some of the Africans I have met in the course of my work and felt a certain envy.
Tess, isn’t it funny how finding out that our clothes are not what we thought they were leads us to lose interest in them. We leave them in a wardrobe until the moths get at them or they become mouldy or we are compelled to get rid of them in favour of something nicer. Having said that, I don’t think I shall leave my “unsuit” mouldering in my cupboard. I shall wear it with panache!
Well, you could just point to it and say, “Here suit!,” but that may prompt further folly.
Indeed!
Barney - Looking for a little entertainment, I decided to take a look at your blog, since I hadn’t done so in quite awhile. I was not disappointed! This carrying on about a suit of clothes was pure enjoyment. I think you’ve resolved the dilemma neatly. Wear it with panache and call it what you will.
The story reminds me of attending a similarly dignified meeting only to return to the office to realize that I’d had on a suit coat from the wrong suit, and it didn’t match at all! I have all my suit coats here in the office and attempt to grab the proper one on my way to meetings, otherwise they stay in the closet. Since that day, I take pains to look closely to see that the pattern matches before heading out.
I guess we should take some comfort in noting that such transgressions are easily passed over by colleagues who mostly have other things on their mind than seeing if your pants match your coat. The embarrassing moment comes when we realize that we have gone through a significant stretch of time oblivious to it ourselves.
Ain’t it grand to be human?
All the best,
Peter
Peter, great to hear from you! I think (and hope) that I have now reached an age where I can either blame my ill matching clothes on senility or (and this is the better one) that I can carry on and actually not care if anyone notices or not!
You’re right, though. Most of the people we work with have other, far more important, things to think about.
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