A man meets his suit a few times a month and his shirts every day. The house cuts them to the same standard: a pattern of your own, and a collar drafted to your face.
A shirt is judged at the collar, and a collar is judged against the face above it. The house drafts yours, then keeps it — so shirt twelve is as certain as shirt two.
Two-fold poplins and twills from Thomas Mason and the fine Italian weavers, oxfords with some spine, linens honest about Bombay heat. Shirts are usually commissioned in sets — one measure, several cloths.
Each shirt is cut to your pattern — not graded from a stock size — and sewn to be washed for years. The first is fitted and worn before the set is finished, so the pattern is proven in the wearing.
Begin with one or two, wear them, and let the pattern prove itself. Most clients then commission in fours and sixes — one measure, several cloths.
Bring it. The house will read what is right about it — and say plainly what could be more right — and cut from there.
Your pattern can hold more than one collar. A spread that sits inside a jacket, a softer point for an open neck — drafted once, called on whenever.
The first shirt leads and the set follows — a few weeks end to end, depending on cloth. The house gives a real date at the sitting.
More in The Commission — what to know before we begin.
The house will write to you to confirm the hour.