[The votes and nominations for the Permanent Style awards closed today, by the way. Thank you for all your comments and emails. The winners will be announced next week.]

At the Shirtmakers Symposium in Florence last week we had a display of five shirts, one made by each shirtmaker.

The theme was ‘smart/casual’. I wanted to see what the makers considered a casual shirt that could transition from an office to a bar, or just be fit for a dress-down office.

They all picked different Albini cloths to demonstrate this, and the range here was interesting - everything from denim to white oxford, from butcher’s stripe to gingham check.

However, for most men these would still firmly count as smart shirts - something that reflects both the range of modern shirtings, and perhaps the relative inexperience of shirtmakers in making casual styles.

More interesting for me were the technical details, which the shirtmakers often included to demonstrate the range of what they could do.

Budd Shirts in London, for example, made its denim button-down shirt with a one-piece collar and a raglan sleeve (above).

Not only is Budd not known for stylistic variations like one-piece collars, but I had never seen a raglan sleeve on a shirt before.

As with tailoring, a raglan sleeve is difficult to cut and make, but has a less precise fit. It’s certainly unusual, but whether you like the style is more subjective.

Emanuele Maffeis had made a shirt with two unusual details.

First, at the back of the collar there was a gap where the lining had been exposed. (Just visible above.)

Although some do this for comfort, here Paolo Maffeis presented it as a good way to stop the tie from slipping, since the lining has greater texture than the shirt cloth.

Second, the front of the shirt had a double layer, showing as a large ‘V’ down the chest.

This is an old technique for shirts worn in warm weather, where a very lightweight cotton is used but doubled in the front to avoid it being too transparent.

Of course, this was for an age when men would rarely take their jacket off, and the back and sides would therefore not be seen.

(The same reason black-tie shirts are often made with different panels in the front than the body.)

The Ascot Chang shirt had another technique under the collar - this time exposing the lining all the way along the seam between collar and band (above).

This is intended to make it easier to fold the collar down, making it snap into place and never fold up.

The others, Anto Shirts and Luca Avitabile, didn’t have particular technical aspects, but Luca highlighted the tightness and tapered shape of his cuffs (above).

And Jack of Anto Shirts had elected to make his casual style with a white contrasting collar, but the band the same material as the shirt body (below).

For Jack, having only the collar (or the ‘cape’, if you count the collar as the whole piece, including band) in white is more casual, and frames the face better.

It is what he wears whenever he’s working and not wearing a tie - and a contrast collar certainly provides an alternative focus for the shirt when a tie is absent.

Although I don't wear contrast collars I certainly prefer this design with the band kept in the same material as the rest.

Photography: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man

Below you can find the full video of our Shirtmakers Symposium in Florence.

It's a little basic, but thankfully the sound worked well and it's audible throughout. Silvio Albini makes a lovely introduction at the start, then each shirtmaker introduces themselves, and finally we plunge into the discussion. 

A wide range of topics is covered - from the business of running a bespoke operation, to quarter inches in shirt measures, to collar sizes that flatter different types of face. 

I hope you find it interesting. It was certainly interesting to chair. 

Photography: Jamie Ferguson and Carlos Folgoso / Massimo Sestini

This is the beginning of an occasional series on shirtings, following a similar model to our Guide to Cloth on tailoring fabrics. As with that, we start with the basics here and will then burrow ever deeper in the coming months...

Picking cloth for a shirt can be a little tricky, perhaps even more so than for a suit.

You may have an opinion on shades of grey suits, but few will have given much thought to casts of blue poplin.

Fortunately, this is a good thing.

Selecting shirt cloth can be confusing because so many of the options look similar - and that’s because often there isn’t much to choose between them.

Most men, at least for a formal business shirt, will want some blues, some whites, and maybe a pink. They will want - at least for their first shirts - a standard cotton that feels nice but lasts well. And the pattern of the weave is unlikely to be their top priority.

But even if this is all you want, it’s worth knowing the basics, so you can have confidence in your decision and easily navigate the various bunches. 

Anyone that cares about the finer details will find some interesting tips here - and can then bury themselves in the details as we get into raw fibres, and the technical aspects of spinning and weaving.

Perhaps counter-intuitively, the first thing to consider when selecting a shirt is weave pattern and formality. 

This is because shirt books tend to be divided up this way.

There will be a book or two with casual cloths (denims, flannels, strong colours and big patterns), and then the rest will be divided by a combination of weave - poplin, oxford, twill - and fineness of the cotton (100, 120, 140).

If you’re after a casual cloth, go for those books and your choice will be largely down to colour, pattern and texture. Not too many varieties by weave or fineness. 

If you’re looking for something more formal, you’ll need to make a choice in weave and fineness, before moving onto colour and pattern.

We will go into weaves in more detail later, but the biggest difference they make is to the texture and the feel of the shirt.

Have a look at that texture, to see if there is any pattern you instinctively prefer.

Then feel the cloth between your fingers. Twills tend to feel richer and have a little more shine; oxfords are rawer and usually more casual; poplins are the most popular for smart shirts, and feel a little crisper.

These are relatively small differences, but considering them is part and parcel of enjoying the shirting you are selecting. It’s worth doing, even if you just end up going for a poplin - the most popular and probably most versatile weave.

Next, the fineness. When a shirting says ‘120/2’ beside it, this means that it used 120-count thread and two-ply yarn.

Most quality shirtings will be two ply, so you can largely ignore that. The other number, the thread count, makes a big difference. Something like 80 thread count will feel rugged and strong; a 140 will feel silky and soft.

It’s up to you which feeling you prefer, but bear in mind that coarser fabrics will often wrinkle less and drape better over the day - and that’s often something men prioritise.

Most shirtmakers will start customers off with something in the middle, say 100 or 120. 

Again, we’ll go into more detail on fineness in a separate post. There’s a lot to say there. (And we haven’t even mentioned the different cottons yet.)

So we wanted a basic, office-ready blue and white. We’re happy with 120/2 poplin. How do we pick the colour?

Whites are fairly easy. Although there are many different casts of white (and they go through fashions, like everything else) most books will offer just one plain white for a particular fineness and weave.

Blues are harder. Often there will be three choices of light blue, and the selection can make a big difference.

I have at least one shirt where I picked the wrong shade of blue, and rarely wear it as a result. It’s a little too strong. Only a little, but that stops it looking as good with all my ties and jackets.

Two tips here. First, wear a blue shirt you already know you like the shade of. This is the easiest and quickest method of selecting the right one again. (And indeed, many men re-order the same shade again and again with a shirtmaker, to be on the safe side.)

Second, try the potential shade against the suit, jacket or tie you are wearing. Colour can often be quite relative. You don’t realise how strong a blue colour is until you put it against something lighter - or against a light-coloured tie.

Also, some of the basic advice of selecting a suit cloth applies.

So look at the shirting in natural light, as well as inside; try to see the biggest swatch available; and if in doubt, see if you can take a small swatch away to compare to things at home.

If in doubt, go for the lighter of the two shades you’re deciding between - any blue, no matter how light, will still be fine with a navy jacket. And stronger, brighter colours will always tend to be more casual.

As I said, this is just the beginning of the journey.

But understanding these basics should allow you to make that first, slightly surreal selection of a fine shirting.

Many thanks to Albini and to the various shirtmakers and suppliers that contributed their thoughts to this piece

Photography: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man except numbers 3 4, Luke Carby.

I think it’s telling that the thing that makes me happiest about this outfit is the oatmeal-linen shirt, a piece made bespoke by D’Avino.

I’ve been doing this for a while - trying to combine pieces of classic menswear in ways that I find pleasing - and it’s not hard to do the basics.

A dark-blue jacket with grey trousers is as classic as it comes. A brown shoe with those trousers equally so. 

It is the details, therefore, and I tend to find subtlety of texture more enjoyable than subtlety of pattern.

So the double-breasted jacket from Cifonelli pleases me because it is in a soft but heavy Japanese denim, rather than wool or cashmere.

However, that pleased me most the first time I wore it, which was here. I am rather impatient for someone into bespoke tailoring, and I constantly seek a new combination, a new idea.

Hence the happiness in the linen shirt, which is not blue, white or white/blue, but a natural, earthy, undyed-feeling oatmeal.

It is still pale enough to have enough contrast with the jacket and trouser, but softens the whole, adds character, and is suggestive of something vintage and worn-in.

The shot was part of a series for Parisian tailor Cifonelli, and it was a nice coincidence that the simple-but-striking backdrop we chose (the colonnade of London’s Institute of Contemporary Arts) reflected the tone of the shirt.

That Cifonelli denim jacket is getting quite a lot of wear. The trousers it can go with are quite limiting (as discussed in the initial post here) but otherwise it’s almost as versatile as a navy blazer and far more unusual.

The denim is also wearing pleasingly, with the cuffs, label tips and front edge all fraying and whitening slightly. It’s one of the key attractions of denim, and nice to see it happening here.

The loafers are dark-oak antique Belgravias from Edward Green, which are unusual in that I rarely wear tassels. However, I do find that they can be a nice additional detail in an outfit that is otherwise quite plain, like this one.

And the handkerchief is a navy wool/silk mix from Drake’s, with a white motif and pale-yellow border.

A dark handkerchief can be a nice way to anchor an outfit - a metaphor I’ve always liked and first used back in 2009 (though the images seem to have gone missing from that post for some reason).     

It becomes a little more dramatic when it is puffed a little out of the pocket like this, though that is largely enforced by the cut of a Cifonelli DB lapel, which reduces the visible breast pocket to perhaps 25% of its actual width.

Photography: Jamie Ferguson @jkf_man

In this next article in our series on shirtings, we describe and define the different types of fabric (oxford, chambray, denim) with both text descriptions and illustrations.

They are set out in groups by the part of the process that largely defines them – whether it be the weave, the yarn or the finishing. Hopefully this will help explain those processes as well as categorising the fabrics.

As with our cloth series, this piece is quite technical and may not be of interest to everyone. But it provides the basis upon which all other pieces can be built - with references back to these definitions. And I'm sure there will be some geeks that will love it. 

It’s worth also saying that the fibre is usually the most important thing to how a fabric looks and feels. Cotton, linen and wool have their own properties, and within cotton in particular, the thickness varies enormously – from 30s thread count to 330s, so 11 times finer.

These aren't mentioned below, but we'll discuss them in a separate piece. 

Below, then, the main types of shirting, numbered and set out in groups by process. Starting with by far the biggest group, which is determined by weave structure.

WEAVE STRUCTURE

There are four main types of weave or weave structure (the pattern in which the warp and weft threads are woven together) used in shirting fabrics.

Many shirtings are variations, or secondary types, of these core structures.

Plain weaves

The first is plain weave. Plain weaves have had a few different phases over the centuries. The original was a striped ‘gengham’, which came to the UK from Malaysia in the 17th century and became known as gingham. (Despite “gingham“ today referring to a check.)

1 Zephyr

David and John Anderson developed a much finer version of gingham in the 19th century, and called it Zephyr.

The name has since become generic, however, and today refers to fine, lightweight plain weaves, with equal warp and weft threads.

They are fresh and lightweight in feel, and are good for warm weather.

2 Poplin

By far the most recognisable plain weave is poplin. This has twice as many vertical warp threads (ends) as horizontal weft threads (picks) compared to other plain weaves.

Poplin became popular in the second half of the 20th century, partly because it took less time (and was therefore cheaper) to weave and partly because it suited the lively stripes of the 1960s.

Because of this differential in warp and weft, poplin is ideal for lengthwise stripes. It also feels crisp and has good body to it, making it a great choice for business shirts.

(Broadcloth is a term used in the US for plain weaves; in the UK it has only ever been used for woollen fabrics.)

Oxfords

Oxford was created as a tougher fabric for more active use than zephyr, and was originally one of a collection of four qualities named after Oxford, Cambridge, Harvard and Yale.

3 Oxford

Oxfords have two coloured warp threads together, and then a much thicker white weft thread woven across them. The contrast of colour results in the white dot effect that is characteristic of Oxford fabrics.

Oxfords are robust and sporty with good body, and the white weft softens the colours, giving them a slightly chalky appearance.

4 Pinpoint oxford

A variation on the oxford weave, pinpoint weaves two yarns over and two under, in the same way as a hopsack in suiting. Technically this is known as a matt weave.

Pinpoints are more popular in the United States and are generally considered more informal than poplins.

5 Royal Oxford

Royal Oxford is a refined variation of an oxford weave, using finer two-fold yarns that make it more suitable for business as well as casual shirts. Its complex weave structure is actually similar to a birdseye or houndstooth in suiting.

Royal Oxford looks much like an oxford but is richer with brighter colours. It can also be woven into checks, where regular true oxford structures can only be plains or stripes. It is a brand name of Thomas Mason.

Twills 

Twills are easily identifiable, having a weave structure that is diagonal to the fabric, traditionally running from bottom left to top right.

6 Twill

As in suiting, twills are denser than other shirtings, and therefore are particularly suitable for a heavier weight fabric that is not too rigid.

There are different types of twill which vary the crossing of the warp and weft ends and picks, such as 2x2, 3x1 or 4x4, and each has diffrent lustre and drape. Heavier versions of twills are often used for military looks and overshirts, or with indigo yarns as denim.    

7 Herringbone

Herringbone is a variation on a twill weave, where the twill changes repeatedly from left to right, giving a zig-zag effect which is said to resemble the backbone of a herring fish.

A herringbone cloth feels very similar to a twill, and has the same properties.

Complex weaves

This section includes all of the more complicated structures that produce figured effects, such as different small shapes, ribs, satin, fil-coupé (isolated motifs) up to the most complicated weaves, jacquards.

8 Dobby

Dobby is a general name for complex structures in woven fabric. (It is derived from the term “draw boy” which referred to the small child that perched on top of a loom lifting the shafts with strings in order to help the weaver achieve these structures.)

It is not a derivation of twill, oxford or plain weave, but rather can be inserted into those simpler weaves to add extra interest or texture.

9 Piqué

Piqué is another complex construction, sometimes with raised parallel cords as commonly seen as a Marcella front on a dress shirt.

Piqués sometimes use satin, a lustrous weave structure, either plain or in stripes. And they can resemble the appearance of knitted fabrics, although the piqué used on a polo shirt is actual a knitted fabric.

10 Jacquard and fil-coupé

Jacquards (above) are the most complex weaves of all, with intricate pictorial woven images. Sometimes the images use isolated motifs which require trimming of threads and this is called fil-coupé (below).

DESIGNS

Designs differ from weave structures, in that they use one of the weaves structures above and then vary the colours of the yarns.

This forms repeating patterns and textures across the surface of the fabric both in the vertical warp and the horizontal weft, of which there are thousands of variations.

The two most commonly thought of as fabrics, rather than patterns, are mentioned below. Not mentioned here are the more recognisable patterns such as pin stripes, Prince of Wales, tartan, gingham, tattersall or bengal stripe.

11 End on end

With end on end, the warp of the shirting (which runs down the fabric) alternates a coloured yarn with a white yarn, while the weft (running across the fabric) is just one colour, usually white.

12 Chambray

Chambray is a plain weave with a coloured warp and a white weft. It normally uses quite fine yarn, and sometimes slubby weft yarns that create extra texture.

It is also known as batiste, having supposedly been introduced by a weaver called Jean-Baptiste from Cambrai, France.

Chambray is usually quite soft and has a casual, varied texture.

YARNS

As well as varying the colours of the yarn, the yarn itself can vary by how it is dyed or spun, and special yarns can be used for the whole fabric or to add visual interest within the design.

13 Denim

The most universal special yarn is indigo - a deep blue or black which is used for denim. Usually woven in a twill with the reverse side in a natural undyed yarn, denim can range substantially in weight, from that used for jeans and outerwear to the most refined shirtings. 

Denim is mostly identified by its characteristic twill and colour, and by the fading that comes with wear or (more often) by treatment of the finished garment.

14 Delavé

Delavé yarns are dyed with special dyestuffs that fade with washing, and are available in every colour.

They are particularly used for fabrics that are designed to look retro or vintage, with an aged appearance.

15 Melange and mouliné

A melange  (above) is two yarns spun together to give a flecked appearance in the finished fabric - often a grey, blue or brown yarn spun together with a natural one.

Mouliné yarns (below) are one coloured and one natural yarn twisted together. 

Melange and mouliné yarns can be incorporated into any design or structure to add visual interest.

FINISHES

Shirtings pass through over a dozen processes to transform them from the raw state, known as ‘greige’, into the finished product. These include stages readers may be familiar with from other areas of menswear, such as mercerisation and sanforisation.

Some of the processes improve appearance, whilst many are for performance, such as tear strength and resistance to shrinkage, since shirtings are worn next to the skin and therefore must be strong enough to be worn and washed repeatedly at quite high temperatures.

16 Easy-iron

Easy iron or non-iron effects are added at the finishing stage, helping shirts remain wrinkle-free during the day and crumple less when taken travelling. (We haven't used an image here, given the effect is not visible.)

17 Brushed and emerised

Cotton shirtings, sometimes with wool or cashmere blends, are often brushed (above) to create a flannelly or woollen feeling for wearing in colder months. These tend to use thicker yarns in a looser construction, so that the wire brushes can lift out the pile onto the surface.

An alternative for finer shirtings is to use a diamond emerising process (below), which is more akin to sandpapering and produces a soft, peach-skin finish.  

These sorts of fabrics are usually used for more casual, weekend shirts and are often made in less formal colours and patterns.

18 Printed

An increasingly popular finishing process is the application of designs or patterns onto already woven fabrics using different methods.

The more traditional methods are silk screen printing and discharge printing, although more today is done with digital printing, which can achieve an almost photographic effect.

Many thanks to everyone at the Albini team in Italy and England for their help researching this article

You can see the first part in this series, an introduction to selecting shirt cloth, here

100 Hands makes perhaps the finest shirts in the world.

They certainly have as much handwork as any shirt I've seen, executed with greater fineness and consistency.

But the most significant thing for many people will be that they are made in India.

In this first article on the company, therefore, I wanted to address that point directly - what assumptions are made about Indian production, and what truth, if any, there is in them.

I did that by going to India to visit the factory myself.

100 Hands is run by a couple, Akshat and Varvara.

They live in the Netherlands, where the company is headquartered, but the factory is in Amritsar, India, where it is managed by Akshat's brother.

Their family business is cotton spinning. For six generations the family has had spinning operations in India, although most of the business today is trading yarn rather than spinning it.

There was always a shirtmaking operation in Amritsar, but it was very small. It was Akshat and Varvara (with previous careers in IT and finance) who wanted to try and turn this into a separate business.

It started slowly, in parallel with their full-time jobs. I had a shirt made by Akshat four years ago (via Chittleborough & Morgan), before the company really existed.

Today, 100 Hands employs 140 people, has moved out of Amritsar to the countryside nearby, and is in the process of adding a second floor to its factory. (That's the countryside above - me on the left, Varvara on the right.)

The workforce is about 60% male, 40% female, and is relatively young. (Most of the people working the sewing machines are men - which is an interesting contrast to Europe.)

There are several very experienced pattern cutters, machinists and embroiderers, but also a large contingent of trainees - often training in parallel with education.

This brings up one of the first concerns westerners have about Indian production: child labour.

Interestingly, the legal working age in India is 18 - by law no one is allowed to work full time until then.

It's also 18 in the UK, but has only been so since 2015. (With various grey areas in between, such as limits on hours per week, internships and so on.)

Younger people can work part-time while in education (again, just as in the UK - I had a paper round at 14) which is why there are a few people in the 100 Hands factory aged 16-18.

Child labour is really about the youngest age anyone is allowed to work at all. In the UK this limit is 13 (except actors and models, with various restrictions) and in India it is 14. 

There's nothing even approaching that at 100 Hands, although it is certainly still an issue in other parts of the country.

Another concern is how the workers are paid and generally treated.

I find this interesting, because actually this is far better than any British factory I've been to.

Everyone is paid considerably above the average wage. They all have pensions and everyone, including their families, is given medical insurance. Some also have local accommodation.

By contrast, workers in most British factories (I've been to around 30) are paid on a par with working at the local supermarket. And while many are nice places to work, few come with any ancillary benefits.

The only factories in Europe that come close are the big Italian brands like Kiton, Tod's or Zegna, which were founded on more communal principles and often supply good food, training and childcare.

Of course, these assumptions are made about Indian production because most brands go there in order to make things cheaply. (I actually had three requests along those lines when I posted pictures of the 100 Hands factory on Instagram.)

But 100 Hands shirts are not made cheaply. It takes specialist skill and about a year of intense training to do some of the hand stitching. Some of the pressing and quality checking is also twice as rigorous as other shirt factories I've visited.

(Bear in mind, too, that much of the world's best and finest embroidery comes from in India.)

It may be cheaper in absolute terms to make shirts here, but the quality produced and time required are greater than almost anything made in Europe. The margins are also similar - a 100 Hands shirt would cost considerably more if it was made in Italy or Portugal.

I entirely understand people that would rather buy from local, European manufacturers.

But there's also nothing wrong with supporting developing communities. 'Buy local' and 'Fairtrade' are similar sides of the debate in food production.

I personally feel very connected to the 100 Hands factory, having visited, seen how well it is run, and been welcomed so kindly by everyone there. It felt like a calm oasis in the middle of the burning Punjabi fields.

And my personal view, as I've always said, is that for people interested in the best, quality should always be the first concern. Location and heritage come some way after.

I'll go into more detail on how that quality is achieved at 100 Hands, as well as their range of offerings, in a separate piece.

For details on my clothing, see Friday's post here.