I love a man in a good suit and, for the record, I took Visual Identity and Fashion in Literature last year – your reply knocked me off my feet.

I WOULD LOVE TO SEE A TOP HAT AT THIS EVENT!

I completely agree with you. You are absolutely right in saying that the outfit I had put together for men is gimmicky and costumey! I admit that men’s fashion is not my expertise but I would love to pick your brain and learn from you. Please shoot me an email. I’ll buy you coffee. (For real.) Thanks for the thorough response! I’m sure many people will benefit from your comment– I definitely learned a lot.

Madison

P.S. I rarely respond to my readers but I was so excited to see a long comment that I felt I should!

1. Formal bow ties should never be polyester .

2. Off-the-rack wing collar shirts have weak and flimsy collars and should never take pleated fronts.

3. Black pants from the Gap bear no resemblance to formal trousers save color.

4. Smoking jackets by definition are luxury items worn only in your own home or maybe at intimate gatherings elsewhere.

5. A bouquet of roses has no business constituting 18% of a “tuxedo” budget this stringent.

Frankly, the outfit is going to look ridiculous. The pants will not break cleanly or fit properly at the waist; the outfit will lack the cummerbund or vest necessary to smooth the transition between the pants and the shirt; the jacket is unlikely to have been tailored to fit properly—the outfit will seem like a costume, not evening dress. That’s not much utility for $165, even if you incorporate the pants into your wardrobe. Of course, I admit that the cost of the ensemble can be knocked down to $115 if you already have a black pair of pants—but you’ll still bear wearing a costume, not evening dress.

The truth is that a proper dinner suit (tuxedo) is not inexpensive. Because of its simplicity of color and style, the dinner suit has to be well-executed. The simplicity of its form demands it. Even if you manage to find a good dinner suit on sale—and there are plenty of bad ones not worth the polyester from which they’re woven—the necessary accoutrements still make it an expensive proposition. A vest or cummerbund, a proper bow tie, shirt studs, cuff links, a formal shirt—these all cost significant sums of money. The investment is too great to make only days before Monte Carlo, and most students’ limited budgets will likely yield suboptimal results.

An ill-fitting or poorly executed dinner suit is a gimmick. You will stand out from the crowd, but for the wrong reasons, your outfit quickly revealed for what it is—a costume. The alternative is to do what many guests of “black tie optional” events do: wear a dark suit. Most men in modern society are so rarely invited to black tie events that “black tie optional” has almost become the norm. Because Monte Carlo is not a rigid “black tie [only]” event, a dark suit amply satisfies the dress code requirements.

A man’s suit, if fitted correctly, should be the most flattering piece of his wardrobe. It should strengthen the shoulders, suppress the waist, and lengthen the legs. This makes him appear taller and more V-shaped—virile, masculine, all that good stuff. Unfortunately, many suits are not tailored correctly because they are done cheaply by in-house alterations tailors, such as at the aforementioned Men’s Wearhouse.

I would advise you to find your best dark suit—preferably solid, though pinstripes are permissible, in navy blue, charcoal, or dark grey (black is acceptable). Observe how it fits in a mirror: are the sleeves too long, hiding your shirt cuffs completely? Is it too baggy in the waist? Do your pants break too heavily and pool around your ankles? Is the chest too tight? Is it too long or too short? If your suit fits less than immaculately, take it to a real tailor and tell him that you need some work done by Saturday. Tell him you want a moderate break, 1/4” to 1/2” of exposed shirt cuff, and some waist suppression. He should be able to fix any other problems you may have. If he can’t do it by Saturday afternoon, tell him you’ll find someone else who can. He’ll probably find a way. If not, find someone who will

Take a solid white dress shirt—the one you just wore to the tailor—to the cleaners and get it laundered with medium starch. Take your shoes—hopefully a black leather lace-up—to the cobbler to be shined, or shine them yourself (as I do). Go purchase a white linen pocket square if you’re more conservative, or an aggressive, multicolored silk one if you’re more rakish. Fold up the white linen square into a rectangle and place it in the breast pocket of your newly-tailored jacket with a 1/2” of linen exposed; or alternatively take your silk square and haphazardly drop it 2/3 of the way into the breast pocket. Finally, pick out a dark, simple tie—burgundy, royal/navy blue, deep purple—either a Churchill dot or a simple foulard (geometric design). Make sure to wear dark socks that won’t slide down and expose your ankles.

Armed with this outfit of a properly tailored suit, shined shoes, and a pocket square, you’ll stand out from the crowd, but you’ll do so without seeming like you’re wearing a costume. Your suit, when finished and properly tailored, should emphasize your best points and minimize your physical shortcomings, broadening your shoulders and narrowing your waist. Your shined shoes will be readily apparent to anyone whose eyes venture south, and your pocket square, even one of simple white linen, will serve to distinguish you from your colleagues. It should go without saying that you should be clean and well-groomed.

The pocket square, shoe shine, and laundered shirt together should run $30-45. This leaves you over $100 to invest in whatever tailoring is necessary to get your suit into peak condition. And unlike the black Gap pants, smoking jacket, and polyester bow tie, a properly fitted suit with a pocket square (and shined shoes) is something you’ll be able to wear for years. If you’re going to spend a good sum of money on your outfit for Monte Carlo, please make it an investment—not a profligate one-night expenditure.