Peak Performance: The Mk. II Games Suit

Peak Performance: The Mk. II Games Suit

 

Our new Mk. II Games Suit – cut from a Japanese ripstop cotton – is utilitarian workwear you can fine dine in, whether that’s lobster at the Wolseley, or pork scratchings down your local.

 

Aside from a couple of creased, sun-faded snapshots taken on the banks of Loch Lomond, I don’t really have much evidence of my parents’ early courtship. There’s just the odd treasured Polaroid with the pair of them foolin’ around in flares – dad with his unruly blonde hair and mum giving it the full 1970s Cher treatment with barely-there eyebrows and an itchy-looking sparkly halter-neck. 

Amongst this streamline collection, though, is a slightly larger black and white picture that was quite obviously taken by a professional. The first time I clapped eyes on it, I wasn’t sure whether it belonged with our crappy family albums because it looked more like a still from a film. Taken in a nightclub maybe, or a snazzy restaurant, a good-looking group of twenty-somethings sit closely together at a horse-shoe shaped booth, the table littered with open packets of cigarettes, loaded ashtrays and half-empty booze glasses. On closer inspection, I realised that the slender-armed woman with heavily mascaraed eyelashes and the dark, glossy, centre-parted mane was my mother, and the grinning guy perched next to her, was of course, Mr. Cloudsdale. What made it so striking though, was the squad of densely bearded heartthrobs sitting opposite them. Turns out those three Celtic studs with steely stares and cheekbones sharper than a sushi knife were in fact, my Glaswegian uncles; Jackie, Jimmy and Stewart. 

The Watson brothers cut a mean dash (as did my dad, to be fair) in their payday suits – the fact that they were all sharing a bedroom in a tenement block at the time had no bearing on how sharp these dudes were dressing. Of all the remnants of my ancestral past, I think this photograph is one of my favourites; mainly because it substantiates that my lifelong determination to buy less, but better, is a genetic disposition, and isn’t due to an obsession with Dieter Rams. Turns out my uncles were just as fussy as me – they saved up for shit, they viewed good quality threads as ‘a way out’, or at the least a means of looking like life had dealt them a better hand. 

Zooming in on the details to inspect the subtleties of their choice of shirt, tie and tailoring, it seems they all favoured a peak lapel. Any menswear boffin worth his salt knows that these buggers are rare breed – tricky to perfect, they pack a punch in a world drowning in the more commonly seen notched version. Cutting a peak lapel requires serious skill, with even the most experienced tailors having to earn their stripes before being let loose with the scissors. This snazzy suiting trick draws the eye up and outwards, with an extended, obvious, triangular point that reaches towards the shoulder. It’s the kind of elegance you’ll have seen HRH Prince Charles sporting as a bachelor, in pap shots of him schmoozing the after-dinner crowds.

Drake’s have (as usual) found an ingenious way to casualise and capitalise on this traditional silhouette with the updated version of their much-loved Games Suit. The Mk. II model frisbees the formalities into the wind with generous flapless pockets and soft, unstructured shoulders. Made from Japanese ripstop cotton, you’ve got the best of both worlds – the eye-catching luxury of nostalgically charged peak lapels, paired with sturdy but modern matching chinos. Part smart, part slouchy, they’ve engineered them in three gloriously easy-to-wear colours; navy, olive, and sand. The boxy fit gives you carte blanche to amplify the rest of your outfit, so think big – a more rugged choice of footwear, or a louder tie, perhaps. May as well treat yourself to another negroni. It’s utilitarian workwear you can fine dine in, whether that’s lobster at the Wolseley, or pork scratchings down your local. The sky’s the limit. 

 

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