There are several signs of a quality dress shirt. Some, like fabric or fit, are instantly obvious. Others, such as the type of buttons or cuffs, take a minute or two to scope. And still others—hidden details like single-needle seams and gussets—are visible only to the wearer and his laundress. Here, we hit all those and more.
Fabric
Needless to say, a shirt should be made from 100 percent cotton, but that doesn’t narrow things down much. As with bed linens, shirt cottons have different thread counts, with a higher number indicating a material that is smoother, silkier, and more formal (not to mention more expensive).
More important is the type of weave. Broadcloth is a tight weave, which imparts a sheen, giving the shirt a dressy feel. These are often light and thin—if you have any shirts that are somewhat see-through, they’re likely broadcloth. (If you have any white T-shirts that are somewhat see-through, they’re just cheaply made.)
Twill, which is softer than broadcloth and tends to drape more easily, has a diagonal texture that shows off stripes and patterns very nicely. It can also have a slightly shiny texture (unless it’s brushed, which gives it a fuzzier finish).
Oxford cloth, meanwhile, is made with a basket weave, and is heavier and commensurately less formal. It’s also one of the more durable shirting fabrics you’ll come across, and happens to look perfectly fine a bit rumpled.
The most desirable types of cotton (though by no means the only good ones) are Pima, Egyptian and Sea Island (despite its exotic image, the latter is named for islands in South Carolina, rather than the South Seas.) All three are from the same type of plant, Gossypium Barbadense, which has particularly long fibers that can be used to make fine, strong threads.
All shirt cottons come in either single-ply or two-ply. Despite what you might expect, in this context “two-ply” means a fabric in which two yarns that have been intertwined before being woven, rather than two layers of fabric that have been stacked together (yet another way in which high-quality shirting differs from ordinary paper towels). Two-ply shirt fabric is stronger and more luxurious than single-ply.
Cuffs
The notion of a shirt than can be worn for any occasion is a myth, unless your life is narrower than a pair of Swedish jeans, and the cuff plays a major role in determining when a shirt should be worn. The most common type—the one most people think of when you say “shirt cuff”—is the barrel, which is fastened by one to three buttons, with a larger number being more formal. Note that we’re referring to buttons that are arranged vertically (going along your arm), as opposed to buttons that are placed next to each other as a sizing variable—in that instance, the extra button is usually a sign of cheapness, not formality. In any case, if you really want formal, you need to go French.
Where barrel cuffs are all about function, French cuffs are for show, thanks to the extra layer of folded-back fabric and to the cufflinks required to hold that layer in place. They’re also more formal. Shopping for a super-dressy shirt? Its cuffs better be French. More in a mood for a buffalo check flannel? Button cuffs. There are also single linked cuffs, which are essentially French cuffs that don’t fold back (or, viewed another way, barrel cuffs without buttons). These are traditionally for white tie events, and need to be worn with shorter cufflinks than traditional French cuffs, as there is less fabric to bind.
The truly adventurous may be tempted to seek out turnback button cuffs, which are French cuffs fastened by attached buttons, not cufflinks. They were sometimes worn by Sean Connery as James Bond, and outside that context they make about as much sense as a wristwatch with pullout garroting wire.
The final point of concern is whether you want square, round or mitred (45 degree angled) cuff ends (also known as cuff corners). Which to get is basically just a matter of personal preference, although some contend that a mitred edge makes a barrel cuff a tad dressier. Whatever shape you choose, there is one simple rule that must be followed: your cuffs should fit tightly enough on the wrist that you can’t get your hand through them when they’re fastened. Otherwise, they (and probably your sleeves) are too wide, and no mother of pearl button or silver cufflink can save you.
The Collar
Whether or not you’ll be wearing a tie, you need a collar that can stand up for itself—when you remove your neckwear (or, just as likely, skip the tie part altogether) the last thing you want is for your shirt to deflate beneath your jacket. To keep things, well, erect, opt for metal collar stays. The stylistic upside vastly outweighs the occasional airport security line inconvenience. Also, look for a collar with an interlining, which is the bit of fabric between the two outer layers that gives the collar its rigidity.
Fused interlinings are by far the most common, but the subject of fusing still incites great passion among shirt people. A fused collar (or a fused cuff) is one in which the interlining is attached, via adhesive, to one of the outer layers. The advantage is stiffness (a desirable quality in cuffs and drinks, though not in suits, hence the term “bag of glue” for fully fused off-the-rack suits), and the potential disadvantage is bubbling after repeated washing. Rub a cuff between your thumb and forefinger: if one side moves a little, and one side not at all, it’s fused; if both sides move, with what feels like a floating piece of material between them, it isn’t. For one reason or other, the Italians seem to favor fusing, and the English do not. As in many areas of sartorial debate, neither of them is right.
There are various styles of collar, and various experts who make their living insisting that different faces demand different collar types. In case you hadn’t guessed, we’re dubious about such claims—if you like a spread, wear a spread—but if you’re into such rules, here’s the conventional wisdom: Gents with square faces should opt for relatively narrow, pointed collars to help elongate their mugs, whereas longer faces are, theoretically, balanced by a collar with a wider spread.
If you’re going to wear your shirt with a tie, the collar’s points should still be able to touch the shirt’s front when your tie is on. A spread collar, which is generally considered dressier than a point, leaves more room for large knots like the full or half Windsor. Spread collars come in a variety of widths, ranging from the subtle (essentially a slightly flared point collar) to the traditional English spread to the near horizontal, which is also known as a cutaway.
The club collar, which drifts in and out of fashion every seven to eight decades, is shorter, with rounded edges. (Now happens to be one of the times when it’s in vogue.) It’s a great look, but, thanks to the style’s old-timey flavor, it probably shouldn’t be paired with a waistcoat. Unless you enjoy being reminded by random strangers that Deadwood was cancelled years ago.
Whatever style you choose, your collar should be high enough to protrude about half an inch above the collar of a suit jacket. In the interests of proper respiration as well as correct fit, you should be able to slide two fingers between your neck and the shirt’s collar when the top button is fastened.
Buttons
Buttons can be made of anything from gold to tagua nuts, but the most common material is plastic, and the most desirable is mother of pearl. Plastic buttons are perfectly fine as long as they’re made of strong resin, which will allow them to withstand hundreds of washings (they won’t withstand a collision with a sewing machine needle, however, though if your tailor is that clumsy you should probably find a new guy).
For those with a keen eye, mother of pearl (or “oyster shell” from an aquatic standpoint) looks more elegant, though it does cost more, especially if it comes in the form of triple-stacked (usually 3.8 millimeters and above) buttons. Mother of pearl is hard enough to break a needle in the event of a run-in, but it can degrade after repeated encounters with laundry detergent, so it may not be the best choice for an everyday shirt. And finally, with button holes, as with many things shirt-related, a higher number of stitches (200 is considered a lot) is a sign of greater luxury.
Other Details
The Placket
A standard placket is a strip of fabric, raised off the shirt, stitched in place on either side. A cleaner, smoother and dressier look is the so-called French placket, which is barely a placket at all: the edge of the shirt is folded over, creating a creased edge which is held in place by the button holes. There is also the covered placket, which features a strip of fabric concealing the shirt’s buttons.
They say that time is money, but when it comes to shirting, stitches are money: as with all clothing, the more hand sewing there is on a shirt the higher the price will be. All shirts are made at least partially on a sewing machine, but certain tasks that are performed towards the end of construction are done by hand by the better shirt makers. These can include the sewing of buttonholes and the attachment of buttons, as well as pockets, side seams, sleeve inseams and the basting of collars and sleeves. In short, handwork is usually saved for the aspects of a shirts’ construction that are visible to the discerning eye.
Single-needle Stitching
One key distinction is between types of stitching, namely single-needle versus double-needle. Single needle tailoring produces a single row of stitches at the seams (which involves one needle going over the same area twice), as opposed to the two parallel rows you get with double-stitching. Single needle seams are significantly less prone to puckering, and many people consider them to be stronger. Such added strength may not be crucial unless you’re going to play football in your $400 dollar shirt, but single-needle does give a cleaner, more refined look.
Gussets
Another aspect of the shirt that is sometimes attached by hand is the gusset—the triangular piece of fabric at the bottom of the side seam which is designed to add strength and flexibility. Some shirt makers do their gussets in contrasting colors; this is partially a hidden decorative feature, and partially a warning to the wearer— if said decorative feature becomes unhidden, it means your shirt is about to pop out of your pants.
Fit
A shirt can made of the finest Sea Island cotton, hand-stitched by Italian grandmothers in some idyllic hill-top town, but it’s not worth much if it doesn’t fit properly. Avoid the blousy, tented look at all costs: There should be no fabric billowing above your waistband when the shirt is tucked in, and no danger of a breeze inflating the front when it’s untucked. Your don’t want your shirt tight enough for strangers to count your chest hairs, but it should closely follow the shape of your torso, while still allowing you to cross your arms without it pulling at the shoulder.
As for length, if you’re tucking your shirt in, you should be able to raise your arms without it coming untucked. If you’re not tucking it in, you should be able to raise your arms without showing the world your navel, but it shouldn’t be long enough that you could be naked from the waist down in public, yet avoid being arrested.
Sleeve length is also essential. If you’re wearing your shirt with a jacket, you want to show between a half-inch and a full inch of fabric (more rakish types opt for the latter). As for how long your sleeves should be, try this: With your arm at your side and your shirt cuff buttoned, you should just be able to brush the tip of your shirt sleeve with your middle finger folded back against your palm. What’s more, you should be able to stretch your arms out without the sleeve traveling more than a half-inch up your wrist.