Gustav Temple road tests a waistcoat made by artificial intelligence.
Tailor Haddon Pratt of Pratt & Prasad with the finished coat of the two-piece suit
“My suit was made by artificial intelligence” sounds like a line uttered by a non-humanoid character from a dystopian science fiction film set in the distant future. But this is what actually happened to me, or at least to my waistcoat. The sartorial dystopian scenario was this: I had bespoken a suit from Pratt & Prasad, which was perfect in every respect – except that it was a two-piece. What was I to do on less clement days, when I wished to protect my modesty – or shirt – from the chilly winds of autumn, not to mention the prying eyes of the public?
Reader, a man in possession of a two-piece suit is in dire need of a waistcoat, and my budget sadly kept me far away from the doors of Pratt & Prasad for a second visit. A vintage item may have served, had I had sufficient time to inspect every single waistcoat in every vintage and charity shop until I found one that not only fitted but whose shade of black matched that of my suit.
The original two-piece suit, paired with a vintage waistcoat
Then along came Hockerty. The initial premise admittedly horrified me, as it would to any right-thinking chap – clothes made by artificial intelligence. Whatever next – androids in three-piece suits? The process is as follows, in the words of Hockerty themselves:
“Harnessing the power of Artificial Intelligence, we simplify the process of creating your unique body profile. With a few inputs, our sophisticated AI algorithm predicts your body measurements and formulates a precise body profile. Although we offer the option for you to verify these measurements, you can confidently proceed with the predicted values, thanks to over 13 years of algorithm training with our customer profiles, ensuring unparalleled accuracy.”
Mmm, we’ll see about that, I thought as I typed in what seemed overly general questions about my body shape and the sizes of clothes I usually wore. Where was the man with a tape measure and his famous ‘rock-of-eye’ to assess my outermost measurements and innermost thoughts?
One of the 500 different suit fabrics offered by Hockerty
Having spent much less time on this crucial sizing information than I might even at a menswear store, never mind a tailor’s, it seemed inconceivable that the waistcoat I had ordered could possibly come anywhere near to being a perfect fit. Admittedly the choosing of cloth, buttons, lining and pocket styles had offered a reassuringly large range of choices (Hockerty boasts a total of 500 different fabrics in total, and there were at least 20 to choose from just for waistcoats). Naturally I had opted for a heavyish black wool to match the 12oz black twill by Dugdale of the existing suit, and a scarlet silk back to match the suit’s vampiric lining.
What happens next? I wondered. According to Hockerty themselves, “once your order is placed, our dedicated team springs into action. The chosen fabric or material is cut and prepared, before being handed over to our specialised artisans, each an expert in their respective garment.”
I had a feeling that, at prices such as these (around £129 for a single-breasted waistcoat), the sewing would be outsourced to a land, or even a galaxy, far, far away, and I was partly correct: “Our craftsmen and craftswomen are based in regions known for their long-standing traditions in their crafts: Shoes are crafted in Spain. Suits, shirts, and jackets in Shanghai, and jeans in Shandong.”
I have no idea where Shandong is and it sounds like I will never need to know. All I knew at this stage was that I would likely be in for a rather long wait, if, once that AI had done its algorithmic dance (the work of nanoseconds, presumably), the actual work was to be done in Shanghai, presumably by a human being, and would take considerably longer.
I was wrong. Within only a couple of weeks, a parcel arrived by post, bound in a rather attractive sleeve opened by a white ribbon. How very quaint, how very Jane Austen! Inside was indeed a black waistcoat with a shimmering red silk back. Before inspecting the details – though I noted that the requested jetted pockets were sewn up, a very good sign – I flung it on, for the fit was the factor of most importance.
I was surprised, nay flabbergasted, that the waistcoat fitted like a glove. The waistcoat is a deceptively simple garment that seems unlikely to cause as many difficulties as a jacket when trying on, but as readers will know, the waistcoat can ruck and sag in the wrong places, ultimately ruining a perfectly good outer layer. The principal aim of a waistcoat is to flatten out the area beneath the jacket as much as possible, providing an unobtrusive background to the shirt and chosen article of neckwear, along with pocket watch with fob if one happens to be a bit of a popinjay.
This artificially intelligent waistcoat did precisely that. It magically concealed what the Spanish call a cuerva de felicidad (curve of happiness) without causing undue tightness or strain to the waist. It sat, peacefully and without a single ruck, against the chest, settling into its supporting role and allowing the centre stage to be taken by a white two-fold poplin shirt from T.M. Lewin and a splendid vintage Tootal tie.
This was not what I had expected. I assumed that the robots would have got it wrong and that I would immediately be bagging up the waistcoat to return it to Hockerty for further alterations. They do offer this service, claiming that “if a garment doesn’t fit as expected, you can rely on our local partners to make the necessary adjustments. If there isn’t a partner close to your location, you have the freedom to take your garment to any local tailor, with costs covered by us according to after-sales conditions. On the rare occasion that a garment can’t be altered to fit, we will remake it for you until it fits perfectly.”
I’m sure Hockerty would be true to their word if the situation arose, but I suspect that the reason they offer such generous after-sale terms is that they know for certain that their garments are going to fit perfectly, and that none of the above will be necessary. If my waistcoat was anything to go by, that is indeed the case.
Their suiting options include working cuff buttons, among many other details such as notched lapels, suggesting that every individual whim is catered for and that the finished result would be of an acceptable standard. I notice that among the many other reviews that Quintessential Gent approved, and his commission was an entire tweed three-piece suit.
