the perfect white tee

If I were a man, I think my closet would look something like this.

Beautiful, all-year dark wool suits (130's or 140's), in various shades of charcoal and navy.

A ton of solid white shirts, and a sprinkling of a few others (mostly blues, maybe a few lavender).

Lots of great ties.

All white shirts are not the same. Since selling J. Hilburn, I have come to appreciate the differences in fabrics and style. How a shirt fits, how a shirt falls, and how a shirt feels are all important.  When I see a man wearing a bright white, well-fitted shirt, against a dark suit and a great tie, I notice.

I feel the same about white T-shirts. I think I'm an expert on the subject, as a large part of my wardrobe consists of them.

I prefer bright whites. All cotton (not even modal which is not all natural). Lightweight but not see through. Fitted but not tight.  

In general, my favorite brand of tees is Rag & Bone.  But there are a few others.

Today I go to Soho to check out Proper Cloth, a small retailer who is known for their custom men's shirts. It is an impressive place, known only through word of mouth. There is no street signage. And even when I find the right address, I'm not sure I'm in the right place. The construction on the first floor suggests a vacant building.

After spending about an hour in this well-appointed Soho loft space, I stroll around the neighborhood. Soon I find myself  in Pas de Calais, one of my favorite small shops on Broome Street.

I browse around and buy nothing, feeling I've accomplished something by spending no money.  As I'm walking out, the chic saleswoman near the door (not the one who helped me) casually says, "You might want to check out our sample sale downstairs."  I'm on Pas de Calais' mailing list. I get their sale announcements. I get their new spring wardrobe announcements. How did I not get notified for this sample sale?  I ask, and am told, "Oh, the store doesn't handle the sample sales. That's run by the wholesale group." Okay, I think. That makes no sense. 

Downstairs is quiet with just two customers. The one male salesperson is unbothered by the  female customers as they discreetly change from one shirt to another.  Soon I become one of them.

I try on a short, paper-thin leather jacket for $264 from over $1,000. It's the only one left. And it fits. But do I really need it? I decide no. None of the shoes are sufficiently comfortable. Most of the clothes are too big and drapey. And the lime green multi-layered kerchief skirt for $20 is great if you're under 30.  But then I discover a messy looking table with packages of tees and a big sign above it:

$20 each or 2 for $30 

I end up with the last two white long sleeve T-shirts (in my size) marked down from $120.  Soft, silky cotton. Bright white (no yellow tones). Light but not sheer. Great detail. Hugs closely but doesn't cling. And almost free.  Perfect.