My white polyester suit

I want to give you my personal perspective on brand and what it means. I’ve been thinking this week about the importance of authenticity and the how, in the course of our lives, certain memes and tropes attach to us.

They can relate to appearance, to the way we work, to our perspective on the world, to the ways we treat others, to the manner in which we behave and show self respect. Authenticity can’t be counterfeit. If you’re true, there’s no scratching of the surface to reveal something else beneath.

It’s why some brands fail, some flourish, and some wallow in the shallows pretending to be something that they really aren’t. Authenticity and honesty are critical.

It was brought home to me this week, in a slightly more individual way, when I saw a report that business suit sales in the UK are in decline. The reason cited is the move, especially in banks and management consultancies, to leisure wear. The chino is experiencing its heyday.

This is very disappointing. I’ve had an on-off relationship with suits over the years. I want to make the case for the suit. Or my best suit, anyway. 

A couple of centuries ago, suits were elaborately embroidered and jewelled. In the late 19th century, it was the combination of comfort and a loosening of social rules that gave rise to the modern lounge suit.

For a long time, suits became everyday wear. We’ve seen the old black and white pictures of men in suits on beach holidays in Britain.

Over the years I’ve bought some terrible suits. A brown double-breasted one in the eighties. Another that looked like it was made out of deck chair material. A bespoke one which was probably the worst investment I’ve ever made.

On the upside, I’ve bought some I’ve loved. This summer I discovered, in Istanbul, that I have the off-the-peg physique of a middle-aged Turkish man. I bought six for €50 each.

My best suit, though, is different. It is suitable for all sorts of occasions. It is made of white polyester. Not a breathable all-year-round fabric but it is a suit for all seasons. I love it and it has become a part of me, personally and professionally.

I bought it mail order from a small company in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It cost me $1,000.

I commuted to work in it.

I wore it to London Fashion Week and, having accessorised it with a scarf, became one of the ‘style sensations’ of the day. As I entered the square at Somerset House, the paparazzi went mad.

Six months later, the catwalk shows featured clothes influenced by me.

I changed the course of fashion history!

I wore it when I launched the World’s highest Hello to Jason Isaacs.

I went to visit the Museum of the Moon in it.

I’ve gone on walks in it.

I’ve done new business meetings in it - and won the work, in part, on the basis of my ‘sartorial flair’.

I’ve taken cab rides in it. “I’ve got that Armstrong fella in the back of the cab.” Top tip - you always get a ride.

I’ve become inextricably linked with it, personally and professionally. I spoke about it, and my experience at London Fashion Week, on BBC Radio 4. I’ve featured in the PR Week Power Book for several years, partly because it has become my personal brand. I’ve been interviewed for Italian Fashion TV, I’ve been invited in by curious potential clients, I’ve used it as a door opener on countless occasions. 

When I open my wardrobe, it’s there. I don’t wear it everyday, but when your personal brand has been so tightly connected with it, some days it’s hard to see where the suit ends and I begin, and vice versa. And this is my point. Create a skin without the underpinning rationale and it simply won’t work. Your starting point has to be belief in a choice - the value of the counter-intuitive perhaps - in order for it to really work. Anything else is cloth-eared.

On Twitter yesterday, I shared some of my adventures in my suit and it struck a chord with many, including national broadcasters and journalists.

The world is full of makeovers that fail from the outset, of choices that reek of ‘mid-lifecycle crisis’ or getting down the kids. Literally billions have been wasted by businesses that have not found the right starting point. Start with who you are, what you believe and what you really think. In my case, it’s a combination of chutzpah, self-deprecation, the belief in the possible and astonishing outcomes, honesty, integrity and a rejection of ‘can’t do’. That’s why I wear my suit with pride and it goes more than skin deep.

Clients, over the years, have warmed to it. Authenticity, rather than production line values, are such an important part of communication these days. Catching the eye is vital. Cutting through is essential. It's informed a lot of the work of the company I founded, has won us awards and has secured us the patronage of more than 100 amazing brands.

It’s waterproof, the gold helmet is paparazzi proof (it has been a real eye opener), it’s 100% proof of the value of a great suit.

My suit has never let me down. Let’s hear it for suits. Get the choice right and it could be the best investment you’ve ever made. Get the choice wrong and you'll look a sack of stale old potatoes that are trying too hard. Clothes. They maketh you.