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Pleats
Pleats are a forgotten luxury that fashion's fast remembering: a conventional double pleat increases the width of fabric in a pair of trousers by at least 16cm. We're ready to bring pleats back into the fold....
Considering the predominance of flat-fronted, slim-cut trousers in menswear over the past 10-or-so years - whether it's the consequence of TOM FORD's designs while at GUCCI or, more recently, the ultra-lean drainpipes of DIOR HOMME - the reemergence of the much-maligned pleat is, at first glance, quite surprising. After all, showing off the goods - via tight-fitting trousers that leave little to the imagination - has increasingly become the sexy norm for the modern-day peacock.
Yet, just like the sense of self-conscious modesty and deliberately "lady-like" aesthetic evident in this season's womenswear, it now seems that some men, too, are seeking a trouser option that's a little less overt, a tad more trad. The weird paradox, however, is that pleated trousers can actually look extremely sexy - precisely because of what they suggest but do not fully reveal: imagination is as powerful a tool as any that might be lurking behind those pleated folds. Super stylist SIMON FOXTON, who created these pleated trouser images for FANTASTIC MAN, sums it up like this: "After years of conforming to the restrictions of the flat-fronted trouser, pleats offer the modern man a new freedom, with the added opportunity of some secret pleasure."
This takes me back to the one and only time I had a pair of trousers made to measure. This was my early teens - spent in the rough Northern city of Wakefield, West Yorkshire - when I was first discovering the importance of style. I already had a black, fluffy mohair jumper and pair of black leather winklepicker shoes, procured from the only kooky-fashion boutique in nearby Leeds, named X CLOTHES. Having grown bored of my bright red "New Wave" drainpipes - purchased via mail order from an advert in the back of SMASH HITS magazine - I needed some fantastic new trousers to go with them.
Indeed, these had to emulate the trouser styles worn by my favourite early Eighties pop stars, who seemed possessed of otherworldly glamour and panache by the bucket load: JAPAN, THE HUMAN LEAGUE, VISAGE, ABC, CABARET VOLTAIRE, SOFT CELL. DEPECHE MODE and so on. Hence, they had to be roomy of silhouette, in the best (black) fabric that I could afford and most importantly have multiple pleats at the waist.
So my sister's flamboyant boyfriend, PETER - a muscular, tattooed former coal miner, who had been the first so-called NEW ROMANTIC in our town - arranged to take me to a local tailor. PETER said the type of trousers that I wanted were known as "BOWIE bags". He and his DAVID-worshipping friends had all worn them in the previous decade - of course, in deference to the most brilliantly styled pop idol of their teens - when BOWIE was working loose-fitting pleated trousers, teamed with a fake snakeskin jacket, in his LOW phase of 1978. (The ever-self-referential pop chameleon would soon revive the pleats look once more, in 1983, when he released LET'S DANCE.)
Perhaps this was my first real inkling of the cyclical nature of fashion? Certainly, it was only in subsequent years that I realised how much the aforementioned pop stars had been influenced by BOWIE, not only musically, but also sartorially.
Whatever, the trip to the tailor would prove to be a very satisfying experience. After being thoroughly measured, gruffly asked what side I dressed on (I didn't understand what he meant, and blushed when I was told) and then shown various rolls of heavy wool fabric, I was charged £30 and told to come back the following week to pick up my super-chic slacks. Upon collection, these tailor-made double-pleated trousers, with small turn-ups at the bottoms of the legs and deep side-pockets, were worth every penny. I wore them to death for the next year or so in the whirl of youth; at gigs, pubs, nightclubs and, yes, on that shopping precinct come rain or shine.
Strangely, I cannot recall what happened to them - probably cast cruelly aside when ripped LEVI'S 501s became the mid-Eighties rage. I had not worn pleated trousers since those dewy-eyed days: one of the many men who thought them redundant - until now. A skim through various fashion-related internet message boards confirms the often-bad press pleats have received in recent times. For example, one anonymous scribe insists: "I actually thought pleats were designed for people with beer guts, in order to give them, you know, some more breathing room." In contrast, however, a keen pleats advocate counters this with: "You will have to prise my pleated pants out of my cold, dead fingers. I don't care... I'm sticking to pleats."
Of course, it was neither BOWIE nor my tailor in Wakefield who "invented" pleated trousers. Even as far back as the Twenties this was a style that had become increasingly de rigeur: The voluminous trouser tendencies of the time necessitated the incorporation of at least two pleats, to gather the ample swathes of fabric elegantly and nip them in towards the waist. The first pleat would run down the length of the trousers, in effect becoming the front crease, while the second would be situated between the first pleat and the pocket; this became the pleats blueprint. (One that would become bigger and way more exaggerated, during the multiple-pleat-ing frenzy of the early Eighties). It was long ago recognised that pleats were comfortable, stylish and practical: they provided more room to disguise a less than sylphlike waist, and more room to put more things in your pockets, avoiding unwanted iPod, wallet or mobile phone bulges. Additionally, they nestled pleasingly around the hips while seated.
During World War II, though, fabric had to be rationed, and the excesses of previous trousers styles were literally cut back to a more basic, slimmer, pleat-free model. In the Fifties, US dandies known as "dudes" reversed any such mealy-mouthed notions. teaming deliberately baggy pleated trousers with five-button jackets, buckskin shoes, patterned hats and colourful belts. By the Seventies, pleated waists had been fully assimilated into mainstream trouser styles across the world - even on flares, sometimes - until the postmodern likes of BOWIE knowingly harked back to their earlier classic incarnations.
However, considering that it is over 20 years since pleated trousers were last at the pinnacle of high fashion, and that suiting and tailoring are now fully embraced as part of the contemporary man's style manual, then in reality it actually seems odd that it has taken so long for any such reappraisal to appear on contemporary catwalks. You might recall designer FABIO PIRAS producing amazing pleated trousers, in shiny grey fabric, about six or seven years ago...but they were simply too far ahead of their (revival) time. In contrast, when RAF SIMONS - who generally alludes to looks you have seen before at exactly the right time - sent his models down the catwalk for autumn/winter 2005 in high-waisted, pleated trousers, you knew other designers would duly follow suit. And so they have - for spring/summer *06, ALEXAN-DER MCQUEEN, MIUCCIA PRADA, SONIA RYKIEL, JOHN RAY for GUCCI, STEFANO PILATI for YVES SAINT LAU-RENT and HEDI SLIMANE for DIOR HOMME have all purveyed a penchant for a pleat or two, in order to add some bulk to the male silhouette.
While enforcing "rules" about how to wear any specific garment seems somewhat high-handed, there are a few simple guidelines that could help a convert to pleats on his way to true contemporary trouser happiness. In STYLE AND THE MAN, writer ALAN FLUSSER helpfully advises, "Make sure the pleats are not opening. Look down to see if each leg's front crease intersects the middle of each kneecap and finishes in the middle of each shoe. A crease that falls outside the knee creates the illusion of breadth, something most men prefer to avoid." Meanwhile, according to RALPH LAUREN's STYLE GUIDE, "Generally you want your pleated pants cuffed. That double material at the bottom of the leg provides the extra weight that'll always ensure your pleats hang straight down."
And away from the catwalks, out on the streets of London, at least, this is a look that is slowly trickling down. At the time of writing. I have thus far observed three modern young gents rocking pairs of pleats (probably of the second-hand ilk, as opposed to new-fangled-designer) in various achingly fashionable bars, streets and clubs within the city: very fresh they looked, too. Regrettably, irritating pop star ROBBIE WILLIAMS has of late also been spotted wearing them while warbling on TV. But don't let that put you off - he probably just has a very forward-thinking stylist.
Yet, just like the sense of self-conscious modesty and deliberately "lady-like" aesthetic evident in this season's womenswear, it now seems that some men, too, are seeking a trouser option that's a little less overt, a tad more trad. The weird paradox, however, is that pleated trousers can actually look extremely sexy - precisely because of what they suggest but do not fully reveal: imagination is as powerful a tool as any that might be lurking behind those pleated folds. Super stylist SIMON FOXTON, who created these pleated trouser images for FANTASTIC MAN, sums it up like this: "After years of conforming to the restrictions of the flat-fronted trouser, pleats offer the modern man a new freedom, with the added opportunity of some secret pleasure."
This takes me back to the one and only time I had a pair of trousers made to measure. This was my early teens - spent in the rough Northern city of Wakefield, West Yorkshire - when I was first discovering the importance of style. I already had a black, fluffy mohair jumper and pair of black leather winklepicker shoes, procured from the only kooky-fashion boutique in nearby Leeds, named X CLOTHES. Having grown bored of my bright red "New Wave" drainpipes - purchased via mail order from an advert in the back of SMASH HITS magazine - I needed some fantastic new trousers to go with them.
Indeed, these had to emulate the trouser styles worn by my favourite early Eighties pop stars, who seemed possessed of otherworldly glamour and panache by the bucket load: JAPAN, THE HUMAN LEAGUE, VISAGE, ABC, CABARET VOLTAIRE, SOFT CELL. DEPECHE MODE and so on. Hence, they had to be roomy of silhouette, in the best (black) fabric that I could afford and most importantly have multiple pleats at the waist.
So my sister's flamboyant boyfriend, PETER - a muscular, tattooed former coal miner, who had been the first so-called NEW ROMANTIC in our town - arranged to take me to a local tailor. PETER said the type of trousers that I wanted were known as "BOWIE bags". He and his DAVID-worshipping friends had all worn them in the previous decade - of course, in deference to the most brilliantly styled pop idol of their teens - when BOWIE was working loose-fitting pleated trousers, teamed with a fake snakeskin jacket, in his LOW phase of 1978. (The ever-self-referential pop chameleon would soon revive the pleats look once more, in 1983, when he released LET'S DANCE.)
Perhaps this was my first real inkling of the cyclical nature of fashion? Certainly, it was only in subsequent years that I realised how much the aforementioned pop stars had been influenced by BOWIE, not only musically, but also sartorially.
Strangely, I cannot recall what happened to them - probably cast cruelly aside when ripped LEVI'S 501s became the mid-Eighties rage. I had not worn pleated trousers since those dewy-eyed days: one of the many men who thought them redundant - until now. A skim through various fashion-related internet message boards confirms the often-bad press pleats have received in recent times. For example, one anonymous scribe insists: "I actually thought pleats were designed for people with beer guts, in order to give them, you know, some more breathing room." In contrast, however, a keen pleats advocate counters this with: "You will have to prise my pleated pants out of my cold, dead fingers. I don't care... I'm sticking to pleats."
Of course, it was neither BOWIE nor my tailor in Wakefield who "invented" pleated trousers. Even as far back as the Twenties this was a style that had become increasingly de rigeur: The voluminous trouser tendencies of the time necessitated the incorporation of at least two pleats, to gather the ample swathes of fabric elegantly and nip them in towards the waist. The first pleat would run down the length of the trousers, in effect becoming the front crease, while the second would be situated between the first pleat and the pocket; this became the pleats blueprint. (One that would become bigger and way more exaggerated, during the multiple-pleat-ing frenzy of the early Eighties). It was long ago recognised that pleats were comfortable, stylish and practical: they provided more room to disguise a less than sylphlike waist, and more room to put more things in your pockets, avoiding unwanted iPod, wallet or mobile phone bulges. Additionally, they nestled pleasingly around the hips while seated.
During World War II, though, fabric had to be rationed, and the excesses of previous trousers styles were literally cut back to a more basic, slimmer, pleat-free model. In the Fifties, US dandies known as "dudes" reversed any such mealy-mouthed notions. teaming deliberately baggy pleated trousers with five-button jackets, buckskin shoes, patterned hats and colourful belts. By the Seventies, pleated waists had been fully assimilated into mainstream trouser styles across the world - even on flares, sometimes - until the postmodern likes of BOWIE knowingly harked back to their earlier classic incarnations.
However, considering that it is over 20 years since pleated trousers were last at the pinnacle of high fashion, and that suiting and tailoring are now fully embraced as part of the contemporary man's style manual, then in reality it actually seems odd that it has taken so long for any such reappraisal to appear on contemporary catwalks. You might recall designer FABIO PIRAS producing amazing pleated trousers, in shiny grey fabric, about six or seven years ago...but they were simply too far ahead of their (revival) time. In contrast, when RAF SIMONS - who generally alludes to looks you have seen before at exactly the right time - sent his models down the catwalk for autumn/winter 2005 in high-waisted, pleated trousers, you knew other designers would duly follow suit. And so they have - for spring/summer *06, ALEXAN-DER MCQUEEN, MIUCCIA PRADA, SONIA RYKIEL, JOHN RAY for GUCCI, STEFANO PILATI for YVES SAINT LAU-RENT and HEDI SLIMANE for DIOR HOMME have all purveyed a penchant for a pleat or two, in order to add some bulk to the male silhouette.
While enforcing "rules" about how to wear any specific garment seems somewhat high-handed, there are a few simple guidelines that could help a convert to pleats on his way to true contemporary trouser happiness. In STYLE AND THE MAN, writer ALAN FLUSSER helpfully advises, "Make sure the pleats are not opening. Look down to see if each leg's front crease intersects the middle of each kneecap and finishes in the middle of each shoe. A crease that falls outside the knee creates the illusion of breadth, something most men prefer to avoid." Meanwhile, according to RALPH LAUREN's STYLE GUIDE, "Generally you want your pleated pants cuffed. That double material at the bottom of the leg provides the extra weight that'll always ensure your pleats hang straight down."
And away from the catwalks, out on the streets of London, at least, this is a look that is slowly trickling down. At the time of writing. I have thus far observed three modern young gents rocking pairs of pleats (probably of the second-hand ilk, as opposed to new-fangled-designer) in various achingly fashionable bars, streets and clubs within the city: very fresh they looked, too. Regrettably, irritating pop star ROBBIE WILLIAMS has of late also been spotted wearing them while warbling on TV. But don't let that put you off - he probably just has a very forward-thinking stylist.