The Thomas Crown Affair: one cut, a wardrobe of three-pieces

Thomas Crown is a Boston millionaire who robs a bank because he is bored. Steve McQueen plays him in Norman Jewison’s 1968 film as a man with everything, and his wardrobe is the most convincing evidence of it: one three-piece suit after another, each one fitting exactly like the last.

That last part is the one worth studying.

The suits

The costume designer was Alan Levine and the tailor was Douglas Hayward of London, a “tailor to the stars” of the period who went on to make suits for Roger Moore’s Bond.

Two stand out:

• A medium grey three-piece in a muted glen check, with hints of blue, worn with a blue shirt and tie. The jacket is single-breasted with slim notch lapels and two buttons, long vents at each side, and a single button on each cuff.
• A navy chalkstripe in worsted flannel, the business suit: single-breasted, two buttons, notch lapels, flapped hip pockets, a five-button waistcoat with a notched bottom, and flat-front trousers with side adjusters.

There are more, including a brown three-piece. What they share is more interesting than what separates them.

Why it works

The cut stays put. From suit to suit the jacket is essentially the same: the same lapel width, the same button stance, the same trim trouser. Only the cloth changes. Crown never looks like he is wearing a costume, because every suit is recognisably his.

The three-piece is his default. In 1968 the waistcoat was already going out. McQueen’s Crown wears one almost throughout, which makes him look deliberate in a way his more fashionable contemporaries do not.

Flannel for business. A navy chalkstripe in flannel is softer and warmer than a crisp worsted, with a matte surface that looks expensive rather than shiny. It is the most Toronto-friendly suit in the film.

What to take from it

This is the most practical lesson on the whole list. Settle the fit once, then change the cloth. It is exactly how a kept pattern works: once your measurements are on file, the second suit, the third and the tenth are cut from the same pattern in a different cloth, and each one fits the way the first did.

That is how a man builds a wardrobe that looks like a wardrobe rather than a collection of purchases. Four days on Bay Street works through the numbers for a modern office week; how many suits a man needs covers the rest.

Getting it made

Sam keeps every client’s pattern on file, so after the first suit the next one is a phone call and a cloth, made in two to three weeks. Start with the navy chalkstripe: draw the Crown suit on the Drawing Board, then book the first appointment at the Vaughan studio.

Where the details come from: BAMF Style on the grey plaid suit and on the chalkstripe.