The Perfect Shirt

Life for me has been the search for the perfect
shirt. For as long as I can remember, clothes have been a source of
disappointment and misery. Going to movies as a child left me with a
certain impression of my fate as an adult. I would dress up in a stuffy
tweed suit and hat, have a stiff drink and head off for an evening at
the local nightclub. But in the meantime my own experience of getting
dressed was torture. Once a year we would go shopping for my one new
school outfit and for weeks thereafter my body would recoil in agony as
it adjusted to this latest humiliation of the flesh. Why did nothing
every fit right, why was everything so scratchy and uncomfortable, and
why did I never look dapper and dashing, or casual and cool, like
everyone else? If I ever had the good luck to find something I liked I
wore it, every day, until it was in shreds. 

During high school my mother took me with
her on shopping trips to the G. Fox department store in Hartford.
Wandering through the men’s department I discovered a secret world of
grace, ease and comfort represented by the piles of neatly packaged
Arrow dress shirts in luxurious soft fabrics, classic solid colors and
stripes with button down collars and box pleats for $5.00 each.
Awakened to new possibilities of sartorial transformation, I found
that, like all things in life, the magical vision proved elusive. Those
shirts must have been meant for someone else. For me nothing really
changed until I discovered Paris.

My
first few visits to Paris were not about clothes or shopping. By then I
had pretty much given up on my quest and relegated myself to the Banana
Republic. Gradually, however, I discovered that in Paris there were
stores that had clothes that were different from what I was used to.
Clothes that actually fit and were comfortable and stylish, in contrast
to American clothes that seemed never to fit right and were always
uncomfortable and poorly made (I can still wander through an entire
Macy’s or Nordstrom and not find a single thing worth buying–no wonder
American men find it so hard to dress well!) 

So now, each visit to Paris finds me
repeating a methodical tour of my favorite shops and department stores
looking for the latest fabrics and styles, seeking to satisfy that
eternal quest for the perfect shirt.

First,
to get a quick overview of what’s new in the fashion world I head to
the Galeries Lafayette at 40, Bd Haussmann, the best of all the major
department stores (forget about Printemps next door—a total waste of
time). The mens’ department just underwent a major renovation and now,
according to the ubiquitous ads, “Men have the same rights as women.” I
confine myself to the second floor, which consists mostly of mini
boutiques for various leading designers. My favorite is Blanc Bleu,
which specializes in excellent shirts, comfortable pants, and a wide
variety of pullover shirts and sweaters, all in fine soft fabrics.
Blanc Bleu can be found in virtually all the Galeries Lafayette, and
has its own chain of retail outlets in most major cities and resorts
across France. Be sure to ask for one of their blue cloth bags to help
you carry your purchases home in—if you spend enough they will give you
one for free. 

Next
I head over to Rue St. Honoré where there are many nice shops, but my
favorites are the two Zegna outlets on the same block just west of Rue
Castiglione near Place Vendome. On my recent visit to the regular Zegna
I found several wonderful shirts in exotic colors while just down the
street at Zegna Sport I stocked up on slacks made with the latest
trend—soft cotton stretch fabric which can be machine washed and dried
and requires no ironing! Blanc Bleu has shirts in this same fabric.
Then I cross the Seine and walk up Rue Bonaparte past the flagship
Blanc Bleu store on the corner of Rue Jacob. Things sell out fast
there, but if you are lucky you will find some nice things that just
came in.

Continuing
up past Place St. Sulpice, I check out the Agnes B. Homme at 10 Rue du
Vieux Colombier, just off Rue de Rennes. While they have nice designs
and colors, the quality of the fabrics is usually not up to snuff, but
I did find a wonderful coat there on my last visit. For more whimsical
shirts pop into Victoire Homme, also on Rue de Vieux Colombier, on the
other side of the street from Agnès B. I bought a short sleeve shirt
there with pockets on the inside that generates a lot of comments and
one with a wild psychedelic pattern that is probably better suited for
Austin Powers. 

Also
in the area is the Bon Marché, a slightly more upscale version of
Galeries Lafayette where I always seem to find something worth buying.
Finally, one must not forget shoes. As I do a lot of walking,
especially in Paris, Mephistos are a must. Their store at 78 Rue de
Saints-Peres is always packed with American tourists, prices being
about half what you would pay in the U.S. But Mephistos, at least for
men, aren’t terribly stylish. For something comfortable and a bit more
hip try the busy Camper store on the opposite corner, or for something
more elegant, and even more comfortable than Mephistos, head straight
for Paraboot just around the corner at 9, Rue de Grenelle.

I
should point out that since I am self-employed and have no need to wear
suits and ties, my own quest is for clothing that is casual and
comfortable, but also stylish at the same time. The above choices
reflect that preference.  
Also,
the wonderful thing about shopping in Paris is that you can often find
beautiful things most unexpectedly. For example, the Marais is packed
with small boutiques that are worth investigating, and almost every
neighborhood has something to offer. Arriving home from my last trip I
unpacked my acquisitions on the bed and marveled that this unruly
little pile had set me back several thousand dollars. I made a quick
count: 18 shirts, 11 pairs of pants, several sweaters and pullovers, 2
coats, 3 pairs of shoes. Enough to last the six months until my next
trip to Paris. Some of these things I might wear only once or twice,
but others were destined to become new favorites that would provide
constant comfort and pleasure.

I
put on one of my new outfits and headed out for coffee. It was a
beautiful day and I noted that it seemed as if Americans were dressing
a little better. The proof was two nicely dressed middle-aged men just
leaving Peets with their lattes. But as they passed by I could hear
they were speaking French. That evening I drove over to the Mission
District of San Francisco to revisit Delfina, still my favorite
restaurant even after the delights of Paris.