Hamilton Shirts

For a number of years, most of the dress shirts that I have purchased have been made by Borrelli, the Neapolitan manufacturer responsible more than any other for the fetishization of hand-stitching on shirts in the American luxury market. Borrelli's buttonholes are hand-stitched, and the collars, cuffs, yolks, and sleeves are hand-attached. And it's done in a manner that intentionally calls attention to itself. I liked romance of the hand-stitching, and I liked the selection of fabrics. After about five years of purchasing them, however, I was forced to admit that I wasn't particularly happy with the product. They didn't fit. Their sizing was inconsistent. The hand-stitching, particularly at the sleeve attachment, was very prone to failure. And Borrelli is remarkably poor at delivering its orders complete, correct, and in a reasonable amount of time. So I made a New Year's resolution to find another shirtmaker.

I have mentioned before that Alex Kabbaz is the best shirtmaker that I know of or could imagine. The two shirts of his that I own are miracles of design and construction. If I could afford to use him exclusively, I would. I like both of my kidneys, so I can't. I have a friend who is starting up a shirtmaking business in Chicago, and I considered him. I imagine that I'll give him a try at some point, but he's not completely set up yet. And he's in Chicago, which would make fittings expensive. And then there was Hamilton Shirts.

Hamilton has been making shirts in Houston since 1883. Yes, you read that correctly: 1883. That's something in a town where a can of Billy Beer qualifies as an antique. Hamilton remains a family-owned business, and Jimmy Hamilton, the man in the picture above, is the current shirtmaker. His two children handle the business side and most customer relations. The shop is a little place on Richmond just west of Chimney Rock, and all shirts are made on the premises. I gather, although I do not know, that the core of the business is making ready-to-wear shirts for a variety of men's stores, the most prominent of which is Barney's in New York, but Houston-based clients just stop by the shop and have their shirts custom-made. At the initial meeting, the client's measurements (and there are lots of them, not just neck and sleeve length) are taken (in my case, by David Hamilton, Jimmy's son) and styling options discussed and settled upon. The client then selects the fabrics for his initial order (a minumum of four shirts; subsequent orders can be in any number). Based on those measurements, a shirtmaker cuts an individual paper pattern for the client (those folders behind Jimmy Hamilton above contain clients' patterns); and the first shirt is cut (by hand using a knife -- shears cannot make an accurate enough cut) and made. The client then tries on that shirt, and alterations, if necessary, are made. After client approves the first shirt, the remaining shirts in the order are made. For me, this whole process took about six weeks, but I ordered in January, which is a busy time. Subsequent orders have been faster, one in as little as five days.

So how are the shirts? Very good. They aren't to the level of Alex's shirts, but they aren't priced like his, either. They have single-needle stitching, unfused collars and cuffs, a split back yoke, and pattern matching at the shoulders and pocket. The stitching is not as minute as Alex's is. The split back yoke is not chevroned, as it ideally would be. The interlinings of the collars and cuffs is a bit too stiff and lifeless. Pattern matching at the sleeve yoke is not always present. The fit is not exactly perfect. But these are still very good shirts, and Hamilton is still a very good company. I asked them to shank my buttons. The woman taking my order didn't know what that meant; but once I explained and she went and asked the shirtmaking staff whether it was possible, they did it for me. They cheerfully and immediately correct their mistakes, something that is unfortunately rare, even in the world of expensive, high-end clothing. And they let me prowl around the back room looking at the whole bolts of fabric (which are all of Italian or Swiss manufacture and are among the best available) rather than looking at piddly little swatches that you normally have to use. And the sleeves don't fall off. The best part? The shirts aren't exactly cheap, but they are significantly cheaper than Borrelli. Better, too.