Matzo Ball Billiards

There is an epidemic amongst the young Jewish professional community I consider myself more or less lucky to be a part of. 

On the Upper West Side of Manhattan, a number of demographics are proud to call the neighborhood their home, including, but not limited to, a bunch very, very old Jews and a ton of teenaged 20-to-30-somethings who occasionally share synagogue space but often establish separate services so that Daniel Rosenblatt, your average finance intern, doesn’t accidentally hit on the shul President’s wife. 

For those less knowledgeable about Orthodox Jewish communities and why we’re always taking off work for holidays that sound made-up, allow me to (briefly) describe the social setting which I am privy to on a weekly basis, and why it has led me to be mad about other people’s clothes. 

Every weekend, from Friday evening to Saturday night, Jews around the world celebrate the Sabbath, aka Shabbat, aka Shabbos. This is a special 25-hour period where we eat a lot, attend synagogue, and behave like a group of highly sociable Amish folks (we don’t use electricity and hang out). 

For all of this, we also get dressed up to the nines. Or at least, we’re supposed to. It’s a holy day after all. It is important to serve God wearing full YSL. 

Only, so many of my fellow synagogue-goers just aren’t putting in the effort!

As somebody (a fucking dork) who considers suits, tailoring, and classic men’s fashion to be a bit of a hobby, Shabbos is an absolute dream for me. It’s a weekly excuse to put on a suit. And in today’s increasingly casual world, many have questioned when an opportunity would arise that requires them to dress smart. 

“I think suits look neat, but if my office is casual, I don’t want to be overdressed.”

“I’d be more into suits if I had more occasions to wear them besides weddings and funerals.” 

And so on. 

All valid concerns. As much as I like to encourage personal style, I think context and considerations for what your outfits convey are important. What does a three-piece suit and tie say if you’re going bowling? Only God knows. And unless you’re doing a photo shoot for GQ, He shall judge you unfavorably.

Enter Shabbos. Whether you’re going to synagogue or Friday night dinner with friends, Shabbos encourages you to trade your t-shirt and jeans or khakis and polo combinations for something a bit smarter. As a kid, I got excited to dress up. At age nine, my Shabbos uniform wasn’t anything groundbreaking. Usually a black or blue two-button suit, white shirt, some rubber-soled Rockports, and a cheap tie that insisted it was designed in Italy on the back of the loop but admitted it was manufactured in China on the care tag. 

However, as I’ve gotten older, my enthusiasm for classic style has only grown. My NYC closet is roughly the size of a high school locker. I know this, because guys like me typically spend half of our high school experience inside of one. But I’ve got like ten suits in there. Ten sport coats. Dozens of dress shirts. 

Way more than I need, sure. But I’m a hobbyist. I love collecting vintage and/or interesting suits for fun. I don’t demand that anyone share this weird little obsession. It’s for me!

But being “into suits” means that I take note of what others are wearing, too. When you’re as obsessed as I am, it’s kind of unavoidable. And I… well, I have some thoughts…

I’m not an expert dresser. As I write this, I’m wearing tan shoes with navy pants. A big NO-NO according to some #menswear enthusiasts. But despite my own sins, I like to think I’ve still gained an eye for what looks good and what looks not-so-good. The visual disparity between my trousers and chosen footwear today inspires much inner loathing, I assure you!

When I go to shul (synagogue), there are a lot of suits. Not every Jewish man will opt for a suit. In warmer climates, they’re even less popular. But here in New York, I’d still say the average Orthodox Jewish male wears one on Shabbos. 

But unfortunately, the worst trends of the late 2000s and 2010s are still on full display. The vast majority of the suits I see are off-the-rack, ready-to-wear two pieces, usually of the navy blue, black, or charcoal variety. On paper, there’s nothing wrong with any of that. I have yet to own a bespoke suit myself, and I believe you can still get a nice fit with RTW options provided you: 

1. Know your body type.
2. Get the necessary alterations from a reliable tailor. 

The color schemes are fine too. Shabbat is meant to be fairly formal. Black, navy, and shades of gray are all valid. 

However…

The fits are tough as hell man. But like, not in a good way. 

In the early 2000s, Thom Browne suiting gained a ton of traction, and their signature “shrunken” fits soon affected the rest of the industry. Some say these trends were in response to the oversize suiting of the 80s and 90s. Jacket and pant hems got much shorter. Lapels became thinner. Fits tended to range from tapered to very slim. 

Like anyone, there was a point where these evolutions made sense to me. Skinny jeans were all the rage, and pretty much everything I wore as a teen had to be somewhat tight to be considered cool. Surely the same should apply to my suits?

To this day, I do appreciate a nice slim-cut suit. I’m a pretty skinny guy, and I still wear a few from time to time. Besides, they didn’t just emerge in the 21st century. They were big for a time in the 60s. But as my appreciation for tailoring has grown, the less I like the whole “shrunken” suit thing. No shade to Thom Browne. They’ve made some impressive waves in both this regard and in others. 

But to me, the details and the construction of a suit are things that are best presented in their intended form. Short jackets and wimpy lapels almost make a jacket feel like it’s ashamed to be what it is. The suit’s once-proud features feel somewhat neutered.

This classic tweet comes to mind. 

Of course, everything is subject to personal taste. But my personal taste is that I believe suits deserve to be suits. So much of what people choose to wear, and so much of what is sold in stores, has just become so flat. Where’s the dimension, the depth? I want lapels that frame your torso, that roll away from the jacket in such a way that demonstrates the quality of the fabric. I want pleats that provide an ounce silhouette and shape. I want jacket lengths that cover 3/4 of your tush. 

But at shul, I see the shrunken suit trend is alive and well. 

Which is weird. Because in most fashion-acute spaces, wider, roomier, and more traditional tailored fits have been back for a bit now. Derek Guy, also known as Twitter’s “menswear guy,” has pointed out that ironically, many younger folks are returning to these styles while many older Millennials, Gen X, and older, appear to be stuck in the slim-shrunken trend of the 2010s. 

So why haven’t the supposedly “younger” guys at shul caught on? 

I think there are a few reasons. 

1. They just don’t pay that much attention to clothing. They have other interests and hobbies, and their lives are no less full. This is the most valid reason. 
2. Something I have observed in the Orthodox Jewish world is that we tend to be a bit slower on the trends, with perhaps a bigger emphasis on conformity than in other communities. It takes longer for some trends to penetrate our circles, and once they do, it takes just as long for them to shift. 
3. Everyone on the Upper West Side (or at least at my shul) is a finance bro. This one seems mildly insidious, but from an insider, let me assure you, it’s not total bogus. I know a LOT of accountants and analysts. The term “finance-bro” in the context of fashion conjures up images of Lululemon or Bonobos pants (with copious amounts of stretch), Charles Tyrwhitt shirts, and fleece Patagonia vests. This has been the uniform for a while now, and it’s not great. When it comes to their suiting preferences, they are often heavily informed from by the status quo, or rather, what was cool when we were all in high school. And it just refuses to budge. 

I do genuinely believe that a reasonable number of guys dressing up for Shabbos want to look their best. And in some areas, they excel (I swear that’s not an allusion to finance)!

But if only to justify my own smugness with a false sense of nobility, allow me to make a few suiting suggestions to nod everyone in the right direction. I still dress like shit sometimes. It’s okay, we’re human beings. 

Let’s start with the fabric. I won’t make this too complicated, but try to go for all-natural fibers as often as possible. That means avoid polyester. Some wool-blends are okay, but you can’t beat the real thing. Worsted wool is the material you see in most business-professional suits — and the kind you might be inclined to wear on Shabbos. It’s relatively smooth, which leans formal, but I do suggest playing with more casual fabrics as well! 

For more causal but put-together fabric options this time of year, consider tweed or even corduroy. Not really formal, yes, but I’m begging people to experiment with texture in a landscape almost entirely bereft of any. 

But let’s keep it moving. On to the fit! 

A suit looks best with more traditional proportions and breathing room. Higher-rise pants and a jacket that reaches over the halfway-point of your ass will keep your shirt from poking out from beneath the jacket’s buttoning point. The result is an overall cleaner, less broken-up look. 

Avoid suits that are too tight. While you may want to ease into wider fits, just make sure that your lapels don’t dramatically crease when you hold your arms out, and that the seams on your pants aren’t puckering. When you pinch your pant thigh, there should be a couple of inches of fabric in in your grasp. There’s more to it than that, but these are the basics. 

Your lapels should ideally be wider than a ruler. Frame yourself! Don’t settle for lapels that barely even want to be there. 

The hem of your pants should either result in a classic single break at the shoe, or hover ever so slightly just above it. A single break is ideal, in my opinion. I know, you have funky socks, and you want to show them off. Relax. There’s time for that when you’re seated. 

Now — for the last-minute details, and my final items for your consideration. 

If you’re wearing a suit and dress shirt combo, pleaseeeeeee consider wearing a tie. I know. You don’t think they’re cool. You think they’re uncomfortable. You want people to know that you don’t care that much!

But a suit/dress shirt combo without a tie just looks weirdly barren. Women are able to display all sorts of fun patterns on their blouses, dresses, and skirts. I don’t suggest we do the same for suits. But we have an opportunity to express ourselves a bit more with our ties! They can be a lot of fun!

Just a point though — the overall width of the tie should somewhat correspond to the width of your jacket’s lapels. 

If you really don’t want to wear a tie — skip the business professional suit and wear something in a more casual fabric, paired with a more casual shirt, like a clean oxford. Or a nice sweater. You’ll still look very put-together, but without transgressing on the sanctity of more formal pieces. 

In the future, I hope to cover the above points, and more, in greater detail. For now, that will do. 

The Final Word

I understand that this blog entry somewhat mirrors an online recipe, in that I opened with a long-winded personal experience that serves as the backdrop to my pathology. Thank you for bearing with me and making it to the end! 

Jumbled and incoherent as it may have been, I’m glad I got to write this out. I have a lot more to say about clothes, and to be honest, I’d like to do this more often. I think it’s actually a lot of fun to discuss they why, when, and where of my fashion tastes. So much of online menswear content can be pretty skimpy on the details in order to appeal to the greatest common denominator. 

“The Best Bombers to Wear on a Night Out”

“Hit the Streets in This Season’s Best Jeans”

And so forth. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with this, I like to ground what drives my personally style. The context in which I might be wearing something. I feel fortunate to have these built-in opportunities to wear suits in an appropriate and regular context. 

Hopefully, sharing all of this has made my insufferable smugness a bit more bearable.