So, this is the romantic ideal of the suit. It’s unstructured, unlined, softly tailored and all the things that we know and love and expect from Drake’s. But romance alone is not enough (this, incidentally, is a theme of Anthony Powell’s novels).
The Games Suit is also functional in the extreme. Corduroy, in the wrong hands, can leave you hot and bothered. It’s too stiff, too heavy, takes too long to break in. Not so with the Games Suit. This is garment-dyed Italian corduroy. That’s good if you’re casually dropping references to a jealous sartorial-minded friend who rightly values such things, but you don’t have to be an obsessive to appreciate the softness. If you want to toss it in the washing machine then go ahead, live dangerously.
This suit looks terrific outside the imagined library as well. It also looks perfect at the imagined country house, in the imagined cameo role in an imagined Wes Anderson film. At the imagined reunion with an imagined family of theatre people in Northern Italy. Crucially, this suit also works in very real settings: if it didn’t then it would be potential unfulfilled.