Q&A: Charlie Allen, London tailor
Which way do you dress, sir?” A simple sartorial question we hope an informed Umbrella reader would be able to answer correctly. But spotting a Corozo button at 100 yards or appreciating the hidden beauty of a floating canvas? That’s a different matter altogether.
Charlie Allen is someone who be able to answer these – and a thousand more questions on the subject of suit making. From his courtyard shop off Islington’s Upper Street, Allen has been making bespoke men’s suits for years, instilling a smart mod-meets-Savile Row aesthetic into the lives of many a north London male.
Allen’s airy workspace is inviting – much like its proprietor. Beyond the reception, a few mannequins stand to attention and a lengthy row of suits hang elegantly along the whitewashed wall – each one at a different stage of the bespoke evolution process. Friendly, expert, but without any sign of pretension, who better to take us through the many mysteries of the tailor’s craft?
Hi Charlie. How did you get into tailoring?
It was a family business. My Dad is, and was, a tailor. He came here in 1955 and started his own company making suits.
So your father was always very keen to teach you a trade?
Yeah. You got a trade and then you could be whatever you wanted to be. All of us had to be tailors first and foremost.
How accessible is the business to get into? Is it a case of being able to walk up Savile Row and say, “Listen, I’ve trained as a tailor. Can I have a job?”
Yes. As long as you can show you can make a suit and jacket. There are trouser makers, jacket makers and waistcoat makers. If you’re a master tailor you can do everything: you can cut, you can fit – doing the fittings is a job on its own. In fact, each area is a job on its own. You could just be a presser if you want, or a finisher: someone who stitches the buttons on by hand.
It’s that simple?
On top of that there’s seven years of training!
Is it true that you’ve tailored the England football team, including Fabio Capello?
Yes, and to make a suit for an Italian is the ultimate challenge because they’ve got such brilliant tailors operating there.
Who would be your ultimate nightmare customer?
An Italian [laughs]! They have too much knowledge. They know too much about how a suit should be. They know about the intricacies: they know about Corozo buttons and how they’re dyed. They talk about ‘kissing buttons’. Details like that.
So... what is a Corozo button?
It’s a button made out of horn and dyed in vegetable Corozo dye – a natural dye, not just synthetic polyester. If you look at some of the buttons on the suits, some of them are ‘kissing’. When I say kissing, they’re touching each other. They overlap, which is very Italian.
And working with a customer who knows everything can be a challenge?
No. It just lifts everything. It makes you want to take your standards higher. You have to raise your game to keep up with them.
What differentiates a bespoke suit from a made-to-measure one? Are they that different?
A handmade suit is literally made entirely by hand. The buttonholes are made by hand, it’s finished by hand, and the lining’s built by hand. You work on the silhouette and then on the floating canvas [the cloth construction within a jacket]. I really could go on and on. There are about 122 different processes building up the layers on your body.
Would a customer come in to be fitted for each layer?
Oh, you’re talking two or three fittings.
How long would a bespoke suit usually take to make altogether?
Six weeks. Whereas a made-to-measure is fitted to your measurements and comes back from the factory engineered. No handwork, all done by machines. What it’s trying to do is imitate a bespoke. It’s fused together. It’s not made to be altered.
So what happens if you outgrow the bespoke suit?
You just alter it. Traditionally, it was then handed down to the next generation. If you spend three grand on a suit you want to keep it for a long time. It’s an experience that you have to go through.
Do you think that’s why men love all things bespoke? To experience something unique to them?
Yeah. After you’ve had your fifth or sixth Armani suit, this is what you end up doing. You have one made especially for you.
How many suits should a man own?
The well-dressed man should have 12. You should never need to dry-clean them. You just alternate them – wear them and hang them. You should wear a different suit over five or six days a week. That’s the ultimate.
Is there a certain style of suit you can wear for any occasion?
Every man needs a blue suit. A blue suit does absolutely everything. Wear it to work, wear it to funerals – basically for any occasion. If you have just one suit, a dark blue one should be it.
“Every man needs a blue suit. A blue suit does absolutely everything”
Do you think the nice suit comes before the nice shoes?
In the ideal world you have to have them both together. You’ve got to have a handmade suit with handmade shoes. And they’re both worth repairing and looking after. You should have that one pair of shoes that you only pull out on very special occasions.
Do you think a shirt and tie defines an era more clearly than the suit?
No. It all goes hand in hand. If you look at a suit, it actually dictates the way that the collar and the tie should match. The tie must match the lapel: a thin tie for a thin lapel. You can tell an era from the suit – the fit, the length, the shoulders and the cut.
So if you walked through the City of London, could you tell a bespoke suit apart from all the others?
I can because my eye is different to most people’s. I know how they’re cut. A bespoke suit has a natural shoulder – softer. You can just tell. Well I can. It’s my job!
What do you think is the future of tailoring in Britain?
There’ll always be that top end no matter what. There’ll always be someone who can’t get off the peg – because they’re too big or too small. It’s like having a bespoke kitchen because your house is on a slant.