I mentioned a while back that I had commissioned a second suit from Graham Browne in London. And after rather too much travelling lately (Milan, Madrid, Dubai in a month; and Hong Kong next week) I’ve finally got around to watching the first step of it being made.

It’s unlikely I will post quite so many photos of this suit in its construction and fittings, in that much will be similar to the last series. But whenever things are new, I will. Here, the most obvious novelty is the waistcoat.

The suit is in 13-ounce, navy, chalk-striped flannel from Hunt & Winterbotham. The weight of the flannel means the stripe is rather fuzzy, which is how I prefer all stripes in suitings. (The only stripe I like is a bead stripe – anything too precise and without texture seems to look cheap.) The jacket is three-button, rolling to two, and the waistcoat has notched lapels with five buttons, rolling a little at the top as well.

A new waistcoat pattern was cut for this suit, but not a new jacket pattern – my existing DB pattern being simply folded over to cut the SB jacket front panels. The waistcoat has a full, floating linen lining, something tailors rarely do these days. The linen gives structure and a shape that moulds to the chest, while not being too bulky.

Russell and Dan report a lot more waistcoats being ordered these days. (Perhaps people have been reading the Logical Waistcoat Theory.) In fact they say they’ve made more in the past year than the past 10 years together. Problem is, there aren’t many waistcoat makers around any more. Graham Browne uses one lady and she is overworked. Jacket makers can make waistcoats as well but they dislike it, as the work is similar for less pay.

The other issue with waistcoats is that men today wear their trousers a lot lower. The question for the tailor is: does he try and convince the client to have his trousers cut higher for a waistcoat, or make the waistcoat longer? Having a gap is not an option, but some men would resist the former, while the latter can make the body look too long. Russell says he leaves it up to the client to a certain extent, but there are limits.

Also if you plan to wear a separate waistcoat with a suit, buy that or have it made first. One client of Graham Browne’s didn’t tell the tailors that he already had a fancy waistcoat he wanted to wear with this suit, so the trousers were not cut high enough. Always best to bring the waistcoat along, so the trousers can be cut appropriately.

In the images here you can see the folded jacket pattern being placed on the cloth; the sleeve pattern being chalked on; the linen lining that will be used on the waistcoat; and finally the marked-up jacket.

In the last picture those three horizontal lines you can see at the top left are the button placings. The curved line coming up into them (from underneath the middle of the scissors) is the edge of the jacket. Notice how it meets the vertical between the first two buttons, to take account of the roll (you’re looking down the jacket).

A few months ago I had my first British bespoke suit made. Time, I thought, to repeat the experience in shirts – so I toddled off to 23 Bury Street, home of Turnbull & Asser's bespoke service.

I've been a fan of Turnbull & Asser's shirts for a while, and wrote a while back about the vast improvement that has been made in the block for their ready-to-wear shirts. How many men with a 15-inch neck wanted that big a waist on their shirt I'll never know. The new line is much slimmer, and fits better than some made-to-measure I've had done.

Bespoke is made in almost exactly the same way as ready-to-wear, and all in the Gloucester factory. But the difference is the fit. I have to say being measured by master shirt maker David Gale was an eye-opener for me. The attention to detail in body and personal habits was greater than any other tailor I've had.

Take the width of the cuff, for example. Obviously this is dependent on the width of the man's wrist. It should be tight enough to that wrist such that the cuff stays at the base of the thumb and does not slip further down. That allows the shirtmaker to build in around an inch of excess material in the sleeve length, above the wrist, so that when a man's arm is extended the shirt goes with it.

However, some men wear large watches on their wrist, making it impossible to keep the cuff tight enough to prevent slipping down the hand. So instead, the cuff is made larger but there is no excess in the sleeve length. To still allow for movement of the arm, a slight excess is built into the back of the shirt, rather than the sleeve.

The same process would be used for a man that prefers to put in his cufflinks before he puts the shirt on. The cuff is made a little wider and the sleeve a little shorter, without that excess material. Equally for a man with particularly thick wrists in proportion to his hand.

I do wear large watches, but I also have slim wrists – so it balances out.

It also makes a difference what type of cuff link you wear. A silk knot keeps the cuff very tight; a bar is rather looser; and a chain is looser still – even if they are the same length, the looseness of the chain means it forms a bigger circle than a bar. This is as important as the thickness of your wrist.

My first commission was for a white dress shirt, in Sea Island Quality cotton. This is not actually from the West Indies, as Sea Island cotton originally was, but from the same plants transported to Egypt. I was told that the cotton you get today from the West Indies is monopolised and thus overpriced. In T&A's opinion, Sea Island Quality feels better anyway. I've felt true Sea Island cotton and it is heavier and silkier. Whether that is better is really a question of taste.

The first, draft shirt will be ready in three to four weeks. This will be made slightly on the conservative (wide) side in terms of fit. For example, the excess of cloth in chest, waist and hips can be as low as two inches each. Mine will be five-four-four, with the presumption that it will be taken in. Better too much than too little, as you can't make a shirt bigger. (Or not easily anyway. You can add side panels but it is a lengthy and costly process.)

The shirt will then be worn and washed two or three times, before being presented to David for a fitting. Then the adjusted paper pattern goes back to the factory to be made into a final shirt.

Watch out here for reports on both stages.

The men and women at Vanners were kind enough to send me pictures recently of how my bespoke ties were made down in Suffolk. So here they are, with explanatory captions.

The three-piece pattern for the tie is laid out on the woven silk, at exactly 45 degrees, having been made to my specifications in length and width.

The resulting pieces are laid out in bunches, ready to be sewn.

The silk tipping to the tie is then machine-sewn to the front and back blades, forming a one-centimetre edge or ‘mitre’ along the edge. I opted for self-tipping, with the same silk as the body of the tie. (There is much tradition around tipping – some brands, for example, deliberately tip all their ties with black in homage to the black-out curtains that were used for tipping after the Second World War due to a fabric shortage.)

The two blades and the neck are also joined together. And a smaller, hand stitch is used to close the tip of the tie to prevent any pulling at that point. Any excess fabric is also trimmed.

The tie is lightly pressed at the tips and seams.

The lining is then inserted into the tie and the folds carefully placed over the centre line. While this is referred to as a seven-fold tie, there are in fact 10 – here you can see eight of them, with two more tucked underneath.

(Ancillary fact on tie folds: Originally all printed ties were seven-folds as the silk came in lengths one-metre wide, and it had to be folded seven times to get the width of the tie. All woven silk came 28-inches wide, as that was the width of the hand looms, and so they were always made into four-fold ties. This was before the use of linings or ties that were made in three pieces. Thanks to the guys at Peckham Rye for that fact.)

When the folds are in place, the tie is pinned along its length to hold its shape prior to sewing.

The self-loop (a loop to hold the rear blade that is the same material as the tie) is then inserted.

Before a single thread is used to sew the entire length of the tie.

The tie is then gently steamed by hand and all its dimensions and measurements are checked.

The self loop and any labels are sewn on by hand before the final inspection.

Which is done by machine as well as eye, before the tie is packaged ready for delivery.

See more notes