The meeting of lapels on a single breasted jacket invites a handful of similes, too many, in fact, to choose a single one for describing this important conjunction. What’s wrong with multiple similes anyway? Who am I to quarrel with Langston Hughes and his drying raisins and syrupy sweets etc.? And so I offer three rather less elegant examples with the hope of creating a figurative ideal of what, to my mind, seems the most important aspect of a tailored coat.

A good buttoning point is singular, like a correctly placed fulcrum. Higher or lower ones can happen, but at the risk of ruining balance. Today’s fashionable suits often button near the sternum which has the effect of creating large hips and a rather sunken chest. The opposite, very low buttoning points, join the jacket right over the stomach, emphasizing even the slightest paunch. Where is the correct buttoning point? Depends on the person, but generally at the narrowest point between the hips and chest—the natural waist. For me this occurs slightly above my navel.

Like mouth-filling wine, a good lapel has body. It rolls rather than lays flat, ripples rather than creases and springs back when crushed. In short, it has life. The five inches of lapel above a buttoned coat is probably the most significant difference between readymade and handmade. Extraordinary effort goes into creating the effect, first cutting a shapely lapel which will enhance the dimension, then hand-stitching the cloth to the canvass creating an ineffable dynamism, and, finally, by pressing-in shape. A good lapel has memory; a great one seems semi-conscious.

The lower quarters should fall away as deciduous leaves—naturally and quietly. Those that cut dramatically to the sides revealing too much trouser are performing, over-emphasizing a slim waist to the detriment of the whole. Those that plummet straight down seem sad in their smock-like concealment. There is of course no ideal here, and certain regional styles call for open or closed quarters. I’m happy if a jacket looks like it could close (which, of course, it ever should), with slight overlap near the bottom button but decidedly rounded corners to the hem.

Mr. Hughes sidesteps the matter by opting for a DB.

Mediocre similes aside, the placement, body and shapes found where a single breasted jacket joins are vital to the overall silhouette. Adjustments here are also usually impossible; they must be cut into the garment from the start. Bespoke offers this flexibility, but the client must be specific (or quiet while the tailor gets things correct). The greater difficulty is in ready-to-wear, where the overall fit might be good, but only one or two of the three above elements ideal. In this instance, I might offer a few more Langston Hughes lines:

“I got the Weary Blues

And I can’t be satisfied.

Got the Weary Blues

And can’t be satisfied…”