In general, the Internet (and specifically, this blog) doesn’t really need another tutorial on how to tie a bow tie.
But this one, from clothing designer The Hill-Side, is really pretty fantastic.
Why? No hands!
It may be, in fact, the last bow tie how-to you may ever need.
Enjoy.
(via Laughing Squid)
When I decided I would finally learn how to tie a bow tie (that was two years ago), I called up the Internet. I found a video from a gent by the name of Ethan at Sherman Pickey that helped me unlock the “tricky part” of the bow tie tying process.
But when Chris Hardwick (you may know him better as the Nerdist) needed to learn how to tie a bow tie, he called up legendary wearer of bow ties Bill Nye (you may know him better as the Science Guy). Here’s what happened.
Bill’s still a little cagey about how to actually complete the bow proper, but he certainly gets the job done, and quickly.
Here’s another good bow tie video. Pay close attention to step #8.
I recently realized I have never been satisfied with any wallet I’ve ever owned. It was time for that to change.
I thought about the Slimmy (which still looks pretty fantastic), until I remembered reading an interview with William Gibson. He talked about some crazy wallet made out of a material called Cuben (transcribed as Kuben in the interview) as part of his EDC.
Now this sounded promising. I headed off to Google and searched for “william gibson wallet”. The top result took me to a review of the Yasutomo Wa-Ben wallet at unfinishedman.com.
The wallet, folded, ready for action. I like the iconic Yasutomo 2020 branding.
Chad’s review convinced me that the Yasutomo 2020 Wa-Ben wallet, made in Hong Kong by Jason Hung and touted as the world’s first Cuben Fiber wallet (specifically, Cuben Fiber CT9K.5), could be exactly what I was looking for.
So I slapped down an electronic $49.50 (post-paid from Hong Kong), and three weeks later I signed for my new wallet at the post office (it seems the people in charge of these decisions deem packages from Hong Kong as untrustworthy).
After carrying it around daily for about a week, I can say it was exactly what I was looking for.
The wallet is extremely light (0.69 ounces, according to the website), extremely thin (you can see through it!), and extremely durable. I often forget I’m even carrying it and have to frantically check my front pocket to see if it’s there. It always is.
It has six credit card pockets, two “hidden” pockets behind the card pockets, and two cash/note pockets, so there’s plenty of room to carry more than enough.
So here’s my short review. The Yasutomo 2020 Wa-Ben wallet is fabulous piece of gear, and I recommend it highly for anyone looking to lighten their everyday carry load.
It comes in many different colors, but my favorite is the standard version, It’s see-through!
For a full-on, really detailed review of the wallet, head on over to Stick’s Blog. I was going to do a longer write-up, but Stick really covered it all.
You can also check out Yasutomo 2020 on Facebook, if you’re into that sort of thing.
Full disclosure: Author paid full price for his wallet and has no regrets about that decision.
A great adventure (like hiking the John Muir Trail), deserves a great hat. For example, there’s Indiana Jones. And Daniel Boone. And The Hatter.
My hat of choice for this particular adventure is the Honey Creek Safari Fedora, part of the Goorin Bros Grenadier Collection.
Made right here in the USA.
It has classic styling, a stiff, durable brim that holds up under challenging conditions, and is made of water resistant cotton (which will be put to the test, make no mistake).
The 2″ brim is just wide enough to keep the sun out of my eyes even when it’s low on the horizon, yet narrow enough that I can take in panoramic views without obstruction.
It sounds perfect, doesn’t it? Yet it has a few distinct disadvantages for this trip.
First, it’s not compressible, so when it’s cold and I’m wearing my polka-dot Smartwool beanie (the style I have is no longer available, it seems), I’ll have to figure out a way to store the Honey Creek.
Second, It does not have a chin strap, so when it’s windy (and it will certainly be windy at some point) it might blow right off my head. Which might prove to be inconvenient.
Lastly, as mentioned before, it’s cotton, so it won’t wick moisture as well as some of the “technical” (what a funny adjective for clothing) hats on the market today.
The author, looking rather pretentious, in the Honey Creek Fedora.
Besides, it’s my adventure — and I like this hat.
Nigh unbreakable titanium collar stays from Uncommon Goods in a nifty little box.
Lately I’ve been burning through a lot of collar stays.
Now I realize that some of you may not know what a collar stay is. That’s okay. I’m here to educate.
Anytime you buy a “fancy” shirt (that is, one with buttons and a collar), it typically comes with two pieces of plastic (usually) — pointed on one end (because collars are pointy) and rounded on the other. These are designed to keep the collar crisp, pointy, and lying flat across the collarbone. Without a pair of collar stays, the ends of the collar tend to curl up like a withered leaf. That can make you look pretty disheveled.
Some shirts have stays sewn inside the collar, but on higher quality shirts (there are, naturally, some exceptions) the stays are removable — you know, for cleaning. Now if you leave them in during the laundering process (especially that ironing part), then your collar can become deformed or even ruined. At the very least you’ll have collar-stay-shaped outlines in your collars. That can make you look pretty silly.
It’s worth noting here that if you bought an Oxford† with the button-down collars, then you won’t have collar stays because of those funny little buttons on the shirt. And yes, if you have those funny little buttons, please use them. (Please excuse me a moment while I go on a brief tangent … Oxford commas: sexy. Oxford shirts: not sexy.)
So anyway, these thin strips of plastic can break, which can be mighty annoying when it happens in the middle of the work day and you’re running around the office with one floppy collar. That can make you look pretty goofy.
I began to tire of replacing these flimsy plastic strips, so I started looking for something a little more sturdy. I’ve seen metal (commonly brass) stays sold in department stores and thought that’s exactly what I needed … until I discovered these titanium babies from Uncommon Goods: lightweight, sturdy, fashionable — and oh so useful. Not only have my collars have never been so snappy, I’m that much more handy to have around when it comes to opening a frosty beverage.
So, to recap. titanium collar stays can make you look pretty sharp. I’ll be using these for a long time — at least until someone makes as set of collar stays from vanadium.
If all this has you wondering about the finer points of collar stays, the Gentleman’s Gazette has a very thorough and educational piece on the subject.
†Yes, I know that Oxford is a type of cloth, not a type of shirt. But most of the time, shirts with those silly little collar buttons are made from Oxford fabric. Go on, Google “oxford shirt” and see what you get (no, I’m not going to make it easy on you). So I used a little writer’s prerogative.
Vintage Bronzini Bow Tie.
When people know that you are able to tie a bow tie, something strange and wonderful happens: People give you bow ties.
Take this vintage number, for instance. It’s an old school Bronzini with “bat wing” ends (rather then the “thistle” ends that seem to be more common today) that my stepmother gave it to me this past Christmas.
It was once owned by her uncle, who purchased it from Eastman’s, which I understand was a swanky Green Bay men’s shop in back in the day.
I am proud and honored to be able to wear it.
Shirt by Blank Label.
Even Doctors are wearing bow ties now.
Even doctors are wearing them, and now, thanks to ThinkGeek and this officially licensed prop replica of the 11th Doctor’s Bow Tie, so can you.
For a mere $29.99, this fancy bit of neck wear even comes with handy manual that includes tying instructions, just in case. But don’t worry about tying it textbook (or manual) perfect — if your bow tie doesn’t look spot-on, then you tied it properly.
I love to iron. It’s weird, I know, but I get a great amount of satisfaction from smoothing out a wrinkled shirt with a hot iron.
Lately there have been a few posts on various blogs about how a man should approach ironing a shirt.
I’m here to tell you that they’re all wrong.
Well, maybe not wrong, exactly, but they sure do make it a lot more work than it needs to be. I’ve been ironing my own shirts for the better part of twenty years, and I learned early on that wearing a dress shirt without looking like a hobo requires only a small effort.
That said, my first attempts at ironing were pathetic. I added more wrinkles to my shirts than I smoothed out. I was frustrated. Then one day, purely by accident, I found salvation.
I was knocking around a now-defunct Borders, looking for any Barry Gifford novels I hadn’t yet read, when I tripped across the First Men’s Guide to Ironing by E. Todd Williams (sadly, now out of print). I bought it without hesitation.
Almost immediately this book improved my ironing game. Most importantly, I learned the pointy end of the ironing board was all but useless for ironing men’s shirts. Yes, that’s right—useless. The average guy ironer shouldn’t even bother with it; all the necessary business takes place at the squared-off end (which is known around here as the “good end”). Not only does the good end of the board act as a reasonable stand-in for your shoulders, it makes positioning the shirt for best ironing results a lot easier.
Seriously, have you ever tried to iron a shirt on that pointy end? Useless.
So, with the help of this book—and some special modifications of my own—over the years I’ve perfected a quick (as in 45 seconds quick) and easy ironing process.
You need a heavy iron, not one of those lightweight models out there, but a nice solid tool with some serious heft to it. I use a Black & Decker iron that’s about 15 years old—nice and heavy—what Mr. Williams calls “a real guy iron.”
Ironing Boards. Photo by Flickr user monkeybutt1969, used under a Creative Commons 2.0 License.
You’ll need a flat board with a squared-off (i.e., “good”) end. Any board will do the trick, just don’t get yourself one of these goofy things with a metal rack “iron rest”stuck onto the good end—that’s just a waste of money and space.
Just a simple spray bottle, nothing fancy. I don’t use mine that much anymore, but every so often I’ll encounter a particularly stubborn wrinkle that needs a little extra moisture. I used a spray bottle quite a bit when I started out, though.
Plug your iron in and let it get hot. How hot? There are technically different temperatures for different fabrics, but I’ve never really cared that much, so long as my shirts get smooth. All my shirts are made from fabrics at the top end of the temperature scale, anyway. My iron goes up to “7,” so I usually just dial it up to the max.
I have found that ironing a damp shirt works best, but it’s not essential. You can either give it a good spritz with your spray bottle, or you can iron it right out of the washer. As I mentioned above, over the years I have gotten away from using a spray bottle. Now, after washing my shirts, I put them on hangers and let them air dry until they’re damp—then I start in with the ironing. But I’m certainly not above ironing my shirts dry if pressed for time.
Run your now-hot iron along the back of the collar, getting it smooth, flat, and as wrinkle-free as possible. Then fold the collar down and give the iron a good solid press directly in the center of the collar, right where it would rest along your spine.
Line up the right shoulder snug against one of the corners of the board’s good side, just like you were putting the shirt on, and lay the shirt along the length of the board. Run the iron over the shirt, making sure to get the space in between the buttons; you want the fabric there as smooth as possible so the front of the shirt lies flat when you’re wearing it.
Line up the other shoulder against corner opposite the one you used in the previous step and run the iron along the fabric. Paying close attention to the placket (I prefer ironing a French Placket myself). This is the part of the shirt that is most visible to people, unless, of course, you’re wearing a tie. Then again, if you’re sporting a bow tie, a smooth, crisp placket is mighty essential.
I start with the right sleeve. Not sure why, that’s just how it works. You could just as easily start with the left.
Unbutton all the buttons, lay your sleeve along the broad end of the ironing board where it meets the body of the shirt, make sure the fabric is smooth on the top and bottom of the sleeve, and give it a nice quick run with the iron. I like a razor-sharp edge on my sleeves, but you can engineer a more rounded edge by not ironing along the fold.
If you smoothed out the sleeve just right, which takes a little practice, you only need to iron one side (the front side). If you get wrinkle on the back side, don’t worry. Unless you’re going to a fashion show, no one is likely to notice. But if this is going to bug you, grab your spray bottle, squirt some water on the crease, and smooth it out.
If the cuff looks wrinkled, give it a quick pass with the iron if you want, but you can usually safely skip this step without making a social faux pas. I tend to roll up my sleeves or wear a jacket, so any ironing imperfections in the cuffs go unseen by all but the most careful observers.
Repeat with the other sleeve.
This is where I depart from the advice of Mr. Williams, who likes to start with the back. in my experience, however, ironing the back is a waste of time. You’re either going to be wearing a jacket, so no one will see the back of your shirt, or it will get wrinkled as soon as you sit down, which negates all your hard work. So save yourself time, do yourself a favor, and skip the back.
This technique works perfectly for cotton or cotton-blend long-sleeve shirts, which is about all I iron. Don’t ask me about ironing pants. I have no practical experience with ironing pants, nor do I want to. It takes too long.
The author, showing off his achievement.
When I wear a bow tie, the most common question I get is: “Why?” The answer is, quite simply, because I can.
I first became aware that the bow tie, that pinnacle of male neck wear, could still a viable fashion choice was in 1987. I was in college, and I went to see Senator Paul Simon at a rally during his bid for the 1988 Democratic presidential nomination. Senator Simon, if you recall, was best-known for wearing bow ties and horn-rimmed glasses—and sharing the name of a certain musician.
But I also met a girl at the rally, fell in love for a little while (but it wasn’t the first time), forgot all about Paul Simon (like the rest of the country), and forgot all about bow ties.
I was in the midst of a year-long personal project where I wore a tie every day. Naturally, I went through a lot ties. Sure, I could have worn the same few ties over and over (like I do these days), but with so many vintage clothing stores out there, the variety route was more interesting. And because she loves a project, my then-future mother-in-law chipped in to help me out by regularly sending me trash bags jammed full of ties that she scrounged from various secret sources.
So, yeah, I had a lot of ties. A few of them just happened to be bow ties.
Over the years, every so often I half-heartedly tried to wrangle myself into one of these strange-looking fashion accessories with little success. I poked around for a few lessons on how to tie a bow tie. I tried looking in new bookstores, used bookstores, and even, as it evolved, the Internet.
All the instructions I found seemed to go a little something like this:
I always ended the process, more than a little frustrated, with a strangely knotted jumble of cloth at my neck. It seemed to me (and still does) that a little more description between steps five and six was called for.
My youngest daughter was sick, and I stayed home to take care of her. I was using the opportunity to do a little tidying up around the house when I tripped across my all-but-forgotten small stash of bow ties.
From the author’s collection.
It had been years since I’d even thought about them. I quickly abandoned cleaning and fired up the computer. After all, here I was, living in the enlightened age of YouTube–certainly someone out there must have this wisdom and want to show off share it.
I found many videos that followed the previously mentioned 6-step formula, all lacking that essential detail. Most were presented with a certain showy smugness, daring the viewer to figure out what was going on. Even this one, featured on Lifehacker, kept the finishing process shrouded in mystery.
I was about to give up, then I clicked on this unassuming little number (sadly, embedding is disabled):
And there it was, the secret—right there at 1:50 (he even calls it the “the tricky part”). Five minutes later I was wearing my first self-tied bow tie.
So thanks to Ethan at Sherman Pickey, I have joined a somewhat exclusive club.
I now wear a bow tie about once a week. The second most common question I get: “Is that a clip-on?” I love this question. It means my tie is tied so well and looks so good, a machine could have done it.
Now that’s satisfaction.