Trad Nirvana: J. Press Tweed, Circa 1953

One of the great things about thrift store shopping is finding something that seems like it comes from another world. This J. Press coat I found over the weekend is a perfect example. It’s a custom job, completed in October of 1953.

The tweed on this feels like it could stop a bullet. In fact, sixty years later, it’s completely unscarred by time. It could well have just come off the production line. Unlike J. Press today, which usually features a single hooked vent, it’s unvented, but it still features the classic three-roll-two button configuration.
 I only wish that it fit me.

Dating Brooks Brothers Shirts

I was cleaning up my very cluttered computer desktop yesterday when I came across a bunch of files I used for our Oxford Cloth Button Down Shirt series. Before I delete everything, I thought I’d post these photos, in case some of our readers might be interested in knowing how to date vintage Brooks Brothers shirts.

These are garment labels from the vintage shirts I borrowed from our friends at O’Connell’s, An Affordable Wardrobe, and Typhoid Jones. I snapped these pictures and then sent them to Brooks Brothers’ media relations department, asking if they could help me date them. The process took a while – I assume because they had to search for someone who was familiar enough with the company’s history – but after a month or two, they submitted the following images back, with the dates you see above.

Note, these dates are a bit iffy. The two blue oxford shirts you see at the end (dated 1999 and 2001) are from O’Connell’s. Ethan there tells me that he’s absolutely certain that the shirts are from the early 1990s, as that’s when they last stocked those shirts at their store. I assume he’s right, especially since the garment label for 1992 seems to be the same as the one marked for 1999. Not sure why Brooks Brothers dated those two the way they did, but the possibility of those being a mistake made me doubt how reliable the other dates were. For what it’s worth, however, the pre-1940s tag is almost certain to be reliable, as that was the detachable collar shirt and my contact at Brooks Brothers had no information about these shirts’ styles. The 1949 tag is also probably correct since that was the only oxford cloth button down without a chest pocket (a detail they added sometime in the 1950s or so). 

In any case, as iffy as these may be, here’s Brooks Brothers’ submission on how to date their shirts. This might be a potentially useful guide for folks who go thrifting often. 

One of my favorite blogs, Where Is The Cool?, takes on sailors.

I’ve just lost forty minutes in the photo gallery of the Martin & Osa Johnson Safari Museum. The Johnsons were a Kansas couple who adventured their way through the 1920s and 30s, making some of the first wildlife documentaries on film and photographing both people and animals. Their book was called “I Married Adventure.” Wonderful.

I’ll admit it: I do love a good safari outfit.

Who would wear paintings as buttons? The Cooper-Hewitt has the full story of these remarkable fasteners - and it purportedly involves Toussaint L’Ouverture, the legenedary slaved-turned-leader of Haiti.
“The Yachtsman”, Illustration by Martin Justice via Clars Auction Gallery

“The Yachtsman”, Illustration by Martin Justice via Clars Auction Gallery

Here’s the final installment in our series of photos from Inspiration LA 2013. The Japanese pair in the next to last row won the award for our favorite company name of the day - Elvis 1950s USA. The guys all the way on the bottom won the award for best father and son team - they sell the contents of two European factories they bought out, including cotton suits from the 1920s.

(All photos by Noe Montes)

How About Some Vintage Florsheims?
Florsheim may still be the most famous men’s dress shoe brand in the United States. For decades, “The Florsheim Shoe” was the standard for the American business man. My grandfather wore Florsheims to his job at Fox Theaters, and your grandfather may well have worn them to his job, too.
Somewhere along the line, though, Florsheim shipped production overseas and started using low-quality leather. Head into a Florsheim shop today and for the most part, you’ll find corrected grain shoes, made in India or other points abroad. They’ve made a few moves towards restoring quality, with the Goodyear-welted Veblen model and a designer collaboration with crazy-color-enthusiasts Duckie Brown, but they still don’t make great shoes.
But as a reader named David reminded me when Derek posted his affordable shoes roundup, the vintage models are still a great value. These are genuinely classic shoes - unchanged in design for sixty or seventy years. Often they were made in shell cordovan - like my pair, pictured above - and with heavy double soles, they last forever.
Enthusiasts look for the v-cleat, a small metal piece in the heel which protects it from wear. Be warned, though, that while it does indeed protect your heel from wear, it doesn’t protect you from falling on your rear when walking on a hard, smooth surface like marble, and it certainly won’t protect your wood floors from getting beat up by metal.
Vintage Florsheim Imperials and Royal Imperials are rife on eBay and in thrift and vintage shops. They were popular and essentially never changed in their design, so they can be found pretty readily. Watch out for damage around the eyelets, where the leather can stretch and sometimes tear, and try to look for barely-worn or unworn pairs. Prices generally range from $50 or so for pebble-grain calf to a hundred or two for shell cordovan in great condition. Buy a pair, and wear it for the next fifty years.

How About Some Vintage Florsheims?

Florsheim may still be the most famous men’s dress shoe brand in the United States. For decades, “The Florsheim Shoe” was the standard for the American business man. My grandfather wore Florsheims to his job at Fox Theaters, and your grandfather may well have worn them to his job, too.

Somewhere along the line, though, Florsheim shipped production overseas and started using low-quality leather. Head into a Florsheim shop today and for the most part, you’ll find corrected grain shoes, made in India or other points abroad. They’ve made a few moves towards restoring quality, with the Goodyear-welted Veblen model and a designer collaboration with crazy-color-enthusiasts Duckie Brown, but they still don’t make great shoes.

But as a reader named David reminded me when Derek posted his affordable shoes roundup, the vintage models are still a great value. These are genuinely classic shoes - unchanged in design for sixty or seventy years. Often they were made in shell cordovan - like my pair, pictured above - and with heavy double soles, they last forever.

Enthusiasts look for the v-cleat, a small metal piece in the heel which protects it from wear. Be warned, though, that while it does indeed protect your heel from wear, it doesn’t protect you from falling on your rear when walking on a hard, smooth surface like marble, and it certainly won’t protect your wood floors from getting beat up by metal.

Vintage Florsheim Imperials and Royal Imperials are rife on eBay and in thrift and vintage shops. They were popular and essentially never changed in their design, so they can be found pretty readily. Watch out for damage around the eyelets, where the leather can stretch and sometimes tear, and try to look for barely-worn or unworn pairs. Prices generally range from $50 or so for pebble-grain calf to a hundred or two for shell cordovan in great condition. Buy a pair, and wear it for the next fifty years.

More great photographs from Inspiration LA by Noe Montes for Put This On.