flaps full

Sherlock frickin’ Holmes
  • Sherlock “texts a restaurant owner specifically to go out of his way and come to the flat with John’s abandoned cane to prove his limp is psychosomatic” Holmes
  • Sherlock “lemme just put up my dukes and fight this enormous golem dude ” Holmes
  • Sherlock “goes to Buckingham palace wearing nothing but a sheet just to annoy his brother” Holmes
  • Sherlock “proves a huge frickin’ hell hound was just a hallucination by mixing a fear-inducing drug into his friend’s coffee and scaring the shit out of him in a lab” Holmes
  • Sherlock “gets placed in a jail cell due to excessive showing off” Holmes
  • Sherlock “pretends to take his best friend hostage to avoid being arrested” Holmes
  • Sherlock “literally fakes his own death” Holmes
  • Sherlock “dresses up as an over the top French waiter to surprise his friend with the fact that he’s not actually dead” Holmes
  • Sherlock “vaults over a table, bounces around the room, and talks about murder during his best man speech” Holmes
  • Sherlock “breaks out of a hospital, does a bunch of elaborate shit I’m not even gonna get into, then mediates the weirdest marriage counseling session ever with John and Mary, all while bleeding internally” Holmes
  • Sherlock “has a drug-induced dream about himself and people significant to him in the Victorian era, with maximum gothic drama” Holmes
  • Sherlock “calls his infant goddaughter by her last name” Holmes
  • Sherlock “walks around in such a way that he spells out the words “fuck off” with phone tracking just to mess with his brother” Holmes
  • Sherlock “aggressively recites Henry V while high off his ass and waving around a loaded revolver” Holmes
  • Sherlock “tosses said revolver to the side just to catch a falling cup of tea in midair can you say BRITISH” Holmes
  • Sherlock “finds out he has a sister, decides to get the truth out of his brother with the aid of a horror scenario complete with a creepy little girl, a fucking CLOWN, and portraits bleeding from their eyes Holmes
  • Sherlock “steals a boat, calls himself a pirate, and jumps into the air with his coat flapping in full grandiose fashion” Holmes

Gravitas

It is no secret that I have proportions on the heavier side of the norm, and certainly a lot heavier than the ready-to-wear world would deem worthy of accomodating. I stand a not particularly tall 181cm, my weight fluctuates between 100 to 105 kilograms, and I am usually about a 46" chest on a 39" waist. I tend to be a tailors nightmare, as I have a broad chest and thick arms, but still with a large drop. Only one tailor I know has ever said that my proportions are good for tailoring - Yuhei Yamamoto of Caid Tailors. I suspect my heavy build conjures images of a 50’s New Yorker for him - well fed on a diet of burgers and pie, and as American as a Japanese Ivy League fanatic could imagine.

What I have learnt, however, is that for all the things the heavy set man cannot wear, from ankle choking jeans that afflict the early 20’s crowd lately to bermudas and tee shirts, there are some things that almost demand the extra weight to properly effect.

There are some garments that I think benefit from a larger frame to carry them, chief amongst them being the traditional 3 piece suit. With the full leg  and high waist of the trouser, the shorter and trim girdle of a waistcoat, and the soft roll of a draped chest coat. Properly tailored, and that is tantamount to the bigger gent, a three piece in a dark formal cloth can amplify the gravitas a bigger man will often possess.

The secret here, although it is no secret to anyone that has studied the likes of Jackie Gleason or James Robertson Justice later in their careers, is that drape and depth are an imperative. And while it is the coat that most men remark upon, and where the significant attention the novice bespoke client lies, a well cut trouser is to a bigger man of the greatest significance. A few tips I have found that have aided me in all my significant girth are as follows;

Depth of rise - The tendency for skimpy, hip riding trousers is an abomination that any man hoping to be viewed as such and not the opposite sex should avoid. This is never more true than in a man built properly through the hips and seat.

As the hips and seat fill out, they also tend to draw upwards. The slim man has hips that begin at the shelf of the hipbone, while the bigger man will find it extending upwards towards the natural waist. The hips grow in proportion and the waist shortens.

Those of us that have put any real thought and study into dressing well are aware that a man cannot look good without looking elegant, and he cannot be elegant unless he is comfortable. Hitching at a low slung trouser and fearing the exposure of a creased shirt tail every time you sit severely inhibits the chances of looking elegant.

The depth of rise should be sufficient that you can sit and stand without the trouser needing to be adjusted each time. If your shirt tails are billowing from the back of your waistband after sitting, you can afford a higher back rise.

Personally I have found that a fishtail trouser worn beneath a waistcoat is an elegant, if slightly archaic option. When I am in three pieces, however, the waistcoat stays on, so the exposure of my braces and fishtail back is unlikely.

Braces - On that point, the trouser is built to hang from the shoulder. I know the proportions of my waist, much like my thigh, tends to shift between sitting and standing, so a slightly looser waist - 2/3 of an inch while standing is usually a safe allowance - and braces to keep the trousers at the correct position makes for a far more comfortable experience.

The brace over belt argument is also supported by the back rise issue - a longer back rise needs to be anchored higher than a belt could usually allow. Hung from the shoulder, however, the trouser falls clean from waistband through the seat and thigh, and there is no unsightly roping to break the vertical line of the leg.

Stride - Seemingly a factor misunderstood by most ready to wear manufacturers is the principle of stride - the difference in volume of the thigh between standing straight to leg crooked. What tends to happen here is twofold - the distribution of weight in the leg shifts, and the back rise through to the knee lengthens as the leg bends. This causes the thigh to occupy all of the extra rise height we have offered in the back of the trouser, and shift forward and down in the front of the trouser leg. Here, without the extra allowance in volume at the thigh, the trouser grips the fronts of the legs, strains the back rise, and leaves a trouser with sharp creases splaying out from the inside leg.

Taper in a trouser is important, especially for a big man - we don’t want to look like we are in oxford bags - but taper it is. There must be enough room in the upper leg to justify the gradual narrowing to the cuff.

Pleats - Hand in hand with the above, and an unpopular choice for nearly all men of my generation, are pleated trousers. The perception of 80’s era chinos with pintuck like pleats cascading from a low riding waistband has poisoned the minds of many from common sense.

Pleats are for medium to high waisted trousers, not low. Pleats should have enough volume, and the waistband not be so tight, that the pleats can accordion open when needed, and fall closed again when standing straight.

The other need for pleats for us bigger men is the visual break it gives the expanse of lap that a full hip creates. Broken evenly with one or two pleats, the trouser fronts are seemingly quartered and diminished. The clean, flat front on a rounder lower torso and hip begins looking like a globe of the earth in its unbroken fullness.

Taper - The taper in the leg depends on two main measurements - that of the hip and of the shoe. None of us want to look like overgrown Oompa-Loompas, shortened to a pear shape with tiny feet beneath a massive waist. At least I hope none of my audience here wants that. Nor do we want to look like Daffy Duck with rail thin ankles and paddles of feet beneath, so the last of our shoe, its size, and how we taper the trouser is important.

I have big feet myself - about a 44 European, so I favour shorter, rounder toed shoes with narrow waists and slightly taller heels and thicker soles. It makes for a shoe that isn’t overly long on my already big feet, but has enough weight at the sole to carry my build, while the narrow waist keeps it looking elegant rather than clumsy.

Conversely, someone with a small foot relative to their height might choose a longer, chiseled last that helps extend the length of foot below the trouser cuff. Or a heavy, gunboat style that will overall add visual weight to the foot.

The taper of the trouser needs to follow the same rules - we neither want to look unbalanced by an extreme taper, nor missing our feet by trousers that flap around too full and long. A good rule of thumb for the bigger gent is that the trouser should fall to the shoe with the gentlest of breaks in the front, and cover the top two or three eyelets of the shoe. A cuff of some depth will help keep the trouser stationed on the foot, and provide the visual weight to balance our, ahem, generous waists.

Much can be said about pattern and colour, their visual weights and how they affect the appearance of a bigger man, but for every rule there is someone whose style and panache is able to squash said rules entirely. I try to remind myself that I am accentuating the vertical as much as possible, especially in the lower body, and setting elegance as the marker of success.

There are some other points that Us bigger folk can carry that a more diminutive build cannot - lapels that look generous on a bigger man can come across as overwhelming on a smaller man. The classical full overlap of a double breasted suit that can look straight jacket like on a small man is entirely appropriate over a fuller girth. And the softer, longer extension of shoulder that is loved by the Northern tailors often balances a larger waist and creates the appearance of a drop from chest to waist, while the smaller man can end up looking like a scarecrow in it.

The soft drape of chest that was the hallmark of the Scholte cut gives a louche elegance to the bigger man, and adds the feel of generosity and ease that elegance demands.

And that brings us back to the original tenet of this piece - Gravitas. Picture Babe Ruth in his bigger years wearing a vested suit with all the softness and comfort as he did his baseball uniform. And in it he commanded respect by his very physicality. He had a gravitas to take something severe and humble it.

But the best example of a bigger man that could put to shame any more regularly proportioned clotheshorse is Jackie Gleason. His portrayal as Minnesota Fats in the 1961 classic “The Hustler”, he epitomizes elegance and gravitas, next to a fidgeting, sweaty and disheveled Paul Newman.

Gleason, a renowned clotheshorse in his personal life, spends the film in a three piece suit with a carnation in his buttonhole. With every shot he takes, his 270 pound figure looks as graceful as sometimes only a big man can be.

“Why do you keep humming like that?”

From the other side of their narrow cell, Prompto stared at Ravus in disbelief. “Don’t you recognize it?” He hummed harder, as though this would help.

“No.” Ravus was unmoved.

“Oh, come on, it’s the theme song to Moogle Lair! Didn’t you watch that when you were a kid?” Prompto could not fathom the blank looks he was getting, so in the hopes of jogging some memories he sang: “Moogle Lair, full of flapping moogles everywhere, cute and clever and beyond compare, this is the moogle lai– Didn’t they have that in Tenebrae?”

“Hey.” Nyx blinked in surprised recognition. “Yeah. I do know that. Sometimes we’d get TV signal from Insomnia out in Galahd, if the weather was good. My little sister loved to–” He paused, looked down at his boots, and then did not say anything else.

“Iris liked it too,” Gladio said, sensing an upwelling in brotherly angst. “Still don’t think I could sing the whole damn theme song, though.”

“We weren’t allowed to watch much television,” Luna explained to Prompto. “There was only the Imperial-approved station, anyway.”

“Oh, wow,” Prompto said, aghast at this childhood hardship. “Moogle Lair was the best. Except for maybe Chocobo Tales. I’d come home after school every day to watch it. But Chocobo Tales’ theme song gets stuck in my head all the time. Something something some-thing Cho-Co-Bo Tales, wark wark…

“Excuse me,” Ravus said, to the moogle standing stoically on guard duty by their cell. “I’d like to request to be executed, please.”

Gladio held up his hand. “Make that two.”

One Other Year (Running Down a Dream Series) : #6 - Ruby

The Devil’s Souvenir Stand

I met the devil
standing by a railroad track
he was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts
selling souvenir coffee mugs
displaying “I ❤️ Hell” on the front

when the train roared by
his shirt caught the gust
and flapped with his full head of hair
in the same direction the
loose leaves now blew

I bought a mug

I paid with my soul
and still owed 75 cents

that’s an expensive mug I said

you had a worthless soul

I don’t even drink coffee I said

he smiled

I went on my way

-Christian Fett (@christian-fett)

On Every World

Title: On Every World
Fandom: Avengers Assemble
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~2200
Summary: Steve and Tony made their marriage official galactically.


“Here,” Peter said, and took the strange, long feathers out of Tony’s hands. The man tucked the feathers around Tony’s head, above and behind his ears, turning the black mass into a sensation of color. He bit his lip.

“And why, exactly, is this a thing here?”

“This planet is nothing but cliffs and ragged buttes that fall at least a mile or two down. Birds are considered most holy, able to travel freely between any crags. In marriage, you breach the gap that is just you and arrive in a new place, where there are two instead of one.”

“Oh.” Tony smiled softly. “That’s nice, actually.”

He could hear Peter rolling his eyes. “You are so far down the rabbit hole.”

Tony grinned outright. “You’re just jealous.”

“Not hardly.” Peter seemed to have finished with the feathers, because he finally pulled away from the back of his head and moved over to the table. Tony feared so much as moving his head, even though he knew the bottoms of the feathers had a strange sticky substance from the planet that would dissolve nicely, Peter assured him, in warm water. (Cold water, apparently, would turn the substance into something worse than glue.) “Get up. This one’s about clothes.”

Tony raised a brow and stood, stripping off his pants as he did. Peter glanced down, grinned, and looked away. “Aren’t you supposed to be married?”

“Apparently it’s not official here yet,” he said, and smirked. “But I am happily engaged, so I will thank you to look but not touch.”

Keep reading

waluigiarchetype replied to your postis arm flapping from anxiety overload an anxiety…

hand flapping is a well known autism stim though i dont see any reason it cant also be linked to anxiety/stress disorders (considering one can have anxious stims), and full arm flapping might just be a bigger version of handflapping?

i think my arm flapping is kinda more specifically like, clawing the air around my head, like as if i could scratch at a “something,” or rip through bad thoughts floating around. it’s never a positive fulfilling feeling, just a “the world is Way Too Much” thing, so i wasn’t sure if it fell under stimming.. that’s kind of an excuse for myself.

hands attached to arms though, i guess it is hand flapping. just, aggressively.

Picture by Menke Dave, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service


3k, T-rating, Sterek, raven!Stiles

Also here on AO3.


The Wolf That Cried Raven


The thing about ravens: they’re nosy little shits. Troublemakers. They are wily, cunning, and have a vicious streak of humor; tricksters known for their relentless teasing. They are often fond of wolves, but rarely – if ever – is that affection returned.


*


It feels strange to be back in Beacon Hills again. There’s something in the ground that calls to Derek and Laura, and something in them that listens, but this is also where their parents died, their siblings, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Derek feels restless, and Laura even more so. They take their time to reacquaint themselves with the territory. They spend long weeks hiking through the preserve, sometimes together, sometimes splitting up, looking for god-knows-what.

Since they returned, Derek’s sense of alertness is in overdrive, so it doesn’t escape his notice when someone is staring at him. Exhaling softly and instantly growing claws at the prickling sensation in the back of his head, Derek turns around, listening for heartbeats, scanning the tranquil forest scenery for trespassers. There’s no one. No hunter hiding behind the bushes, no steady heartbeat that betrays a human with ill intentions.  

But there is a very small rhythm, a steady drumming high above him.

Derek looks up, and there he finds it: a black bird on the branch of an oak tree, eyes trained on him. It’s a good deal too large to be a  crow, but with its glossy dark feathers and shiny beak it’s easy to mistake for one. As a werewolf, Derek considers himself to be on the top of the food chain; an apex predator that triggers terror in every lesser creature. There’s something unsettling about the probing eye contact. He’s not used to animals staring back at him that brazenly.

“Fuck off,” Derek grumbles and makes little shooing motions.

“Caw,” the raven says. It looks unimpressed.


Keep reading

SO, I didn’t knew exactly what to translate, so I picked some things, It got really long even when I left some parts behind. Hope you guys like it, is a really good interview! ♥


4:40 - with Lucas and Marquinhos “I’m gonna reveal why David uses long hair, it is because he’s getting bald. But you can see, when he
runs, the wind blows and you see the bad hairlines”

6:50 - Faro: “You guys don’t know him, but David is the type of guy that messes with the ambiance”

8:00 - Faro:“How do I ask ‘the car is there?’”  David: “I don’t know man” *then he speaks in french with the drivers* Faro: “What did you say?" David: "Don’t know man”

Faro: “How many languages do you speak?”
David: “None, I barely speak portuguese!”
Faro: “Lies! You played for Chelsea and I saw you giving an interview speaking english!”

Keep reading

i’ve hit 2k followers!!!! thank you everyone!! im still kinda like why are you here!! but!!! coolio!!!

to celebrate, here’s a text talk snippet, bc yes, i’m actually writing shit ok

“Sirius whooped - honest-to-God-whooped, Remus thought, horrified - causing the owls settled into the tree tops to take flight, their silhouettes flapping against the full moon that hung in the sky like a stage prop. Remus buried his face in his hands, saving himself the embarrassment of Sirius seeing his tomato red face, but Sirius didn’t seem bothered. He slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders, pulling him in close and patting him. Remus wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he heard Sirius murmur, you’re too cute.”

I think I’m in love with an article of virtual clothing.

Normally I change up what my protagonist’s wearing, but bloody hell I cannot bring myself to be without Shay’s Templar outfit for more that 15 minutes. The subtle sway of the coat when he walks to the full on flapping when he runs; I can’t get over it. That coat is majestic and its designer gets my undying gratitude.

2

Deepening shades of night sifted over high backed sand dunes. In the dark, the paralytic stillness of sleep numbed every stretch of the desert, from the wind to the croaking lizards in their holes. But there were always things creeping closer, bigger than the sunken sculptures in the sand. And they couldn’t wait for day.

Varric sat smoking in the shadow of one of those gargantuan statues.  Its outstretched arm ended in a hand that gestured across the stars toward…where? Orlais? His smoke drifted upward, his eyes downward.  Muffled voices and the scrape of metal on sandstone echoed below him.

A makeshift ramp had been dug into the desert, studded at regular intervals by torches, it spiraled steeply into an excavation pit.  More torchlight glowed inside the mouth of the tomb, and the stone walls crawled with the shadows of Inquisition workers.

With thinning enthusiasm for the prospect of sleep, Varric prepared to stow his pipe and make his way back to the tent.  It was a poor imitation of civilized lodging that promised flimsy flaps full of creepy crawlies in addition to a sleep roll full of sand. But as he turned, Varric spied a tall shape crossing the camp, heading for the dig site.  

Among a blended mash of tall shapes in his life, Varric had learned to spot Cassandra in the dark. It was odd, that familiarity. Or maybe a year of travel sometimes felt like ten when he was in her company.

“Seeker.” Varric nodded as she passed him.

“Dwarf.” Cassandra neglected to grace him with her usual narrow-eyed scrutiny.  Varric would have been offended if he hadn’t been as fully tired as she looked.  Her shoulders sagged as she descended.

Keep reading

It is no secret that I have proportions on the heavier side of the norm, and certainly a lot heavier than the ready-to-wear world would deem worthy of accomodating. I stand a not particularly tall 181cm, my weight fluctuates between 100 to 105 kilograms, and I am usually about a 46" chest on a 39" waist. I tend to be a tailors nightmare, as I have a broad chest and thick arms, but still with a large drop. Only one tailor I know has ever said that my proportions are good for tailoring - Yuhei Yamamoto of Caid Tailors. I suspect my heavy build conjures images of a 50’s New Yorker for him - well fed on a diet of burgers and pie, and as American as a Japanese Ivy League fanatic could imagine.
What I have learnt, however, is that for all the things the heavy set man cannot wear, from ankle choking jeans that afflict the early 20’s crowd lately to bermudas and tee shirts, there are some things that almost demand the extra weight to properly effect.
My wife, being Japanese, has had times in her life that wafuku is obligatory, the most recognisable of these being the Kimono. Now while she maintains the same figure she had when we married some 12 years ago, I have grown considerably. An in her estimation, so has my ability to carry off Wafuku with aplomb. Indeed, part of the regalia of the Japanese Kimono is the padding necessary to have the garment, made completely of straight seams, fall flat on the body. That I have developed my own padding is practically an invitation to get to Kyoto and bespeak a Kimono.
Like the Kimono, there are some garments that I think benefit from a larger frame to carry them, chief amongst them being the traditional 3 piece suit. With the full leg and high waist of the trouser, the shorter and trim girdle of a waistcoat, and the soft roll of a draped chest coat. Properly tailored, and that is tantamount to the bigger gent, a three piece in a dark formal cloth can amplify the gravitas a bigger man will often possess.
The secret here, although it is no secret to anyone that has studied the likes of Jackie Gleason, is that drape and depth are an imperative. And while it is the coat that most men remark upon, and where the significant attention the novice bespoke client lies, a well cut trouser is to a bigger man of the greatest significance. A few tips I have found that have aided me in all my significant girth are as follows;

Depth of rise - The tendency for skimpy, hip riding trousers is an abomination that any man hoping to be viewed as such and not the opposite sex should avoid. This is never more true than in a man built properly through the hips and seat.
As the hips and seat fill out, they also tend to draw upwards. The slim man has hips that begin at the shelf of the hipbone, while the bigger man will find it extending upwards towards the natural waist. The hips grow in proportion and the waist shortens.
Those of us that have put any real thought and study in to dressing well are aware that a man cannot look good without looking elegant, and he cannot be elegant unless he is comfortable. Hitching at a low slung trouser and fearing the exposure of a creased shirt tail everytime you sit severely inhibits the chances of looking elegant.
The depth of rise should be sufficient that you can sit and stand without the trouser needing to be adjusted each time. If your shirt tails are billowing from the back of your waistband after sitting, you can afford a higher backrise.
Personally I have found that a fishtail trouser worn beneath a waistcoat is an elegant, if slightly archaic option. When I am in three pieces, however, the waistcoat stays on, so the exposure of my braces and fishtail back is unlikely.

Braces - On that point, the trouser is built to hang from the shoulder. I know the proprtions of my waist, much like my thigh, tends to shift between sitting and standing, so a slightly looser waist - 2/3 of an inch while standing is usually a safe allowance - and braces to keep the trousers at the correct position makes for a far more comfortable experience.
The brace over belt argument is also supported by the backrise issue - a longer backrise needs to be anchored higher than a belt could usually allow. Hung from the shoulder, however, the trouser falls clean from waistband through the seat and thigh, and there is no unsightly roping to break the vertical line of the leg.

Stride - Seemingly a factor misunderstood by most ready to wear manufacturers is the principle of stride - the difference in volume of the thigh between standing straight to leg crooked. What tends to happen here is twofold - the distribution of weight in the leg shifts, and the backrise through to the knee lengthens as the leg bends. This causes the thigh to occupy all of the extra rise height we have offered in the back of the trouser, and shift forward and down in the front of the trouser leg. Here, without the extra allowance in volume at the thigh, the trouser grips the fronts of the legs, strains the backrise, and leaves a trouser with sharp creases splaying out from the inside leg.
Taper in a trouser is important, especially for a big man - we dont want to look like we are in oxford bags - but taper it is. There must be enough room in the upper leg to justify the gradual narrowing to the cuff.

Pleats - Hand in hand with the above, and an unpopular choice for nearly all men of my generation, are pleated trousers. The perception of 80’s era chinos with pintuck like pleats cascading from a low riding waistband has poisoned the minds of many from common sense.
Pleats are for medium to high waisted trousers, not low. Pleats should have enough volume, and the waistband not be so tight, that the pleats can accordion open when needed, and fall closed again when standing straight.
The other need for pleats for us bigger men is the visual break it gives the expanse of lap that a full hip creates. Broken evenly with one or two pleats, the trouser fronts are seemingly quartered and diminished. The clean, flat front on a rounder lower torso and hip begins looking like a globe of the earth in its unbroken fullness.

Taper - The taper in the leg depends on two main measurements - that of the hip and of the shoe. None of us want to look like overgrown Oompa-Loompas, shortened to a pear shape with tiny feet beneath a massive waist. At least I hope none of my audience here wants that. Nor do we want to look like Daffy Duck with rail thin ankles and paddles of feet beneath, so the last of our shoe, its size, and how we taper the trouser is important.
I have big feet myself - about a 45 European, so I favour shorter, rounder toed shoes with narrow waists and slightly taller heels and thicker soles. It makes for a shoe that isnt overly long on my already big feet, but has enough weight at the sole to carry my build, while the narrow waist keeps it looking elegant rather than clumsy.
Conversely, someone with a small foot relative to their height might choose a longer, chiseled last that helps extend the length of foot below the trouser cuff. Or a heavy, gunboat style that will overall add visual weight to the foot.
The taper of the trouser needs to follow the same rules - we neither want to look unbalanced by an extreme taper, nor missing our feet by trousers that flap around too full and long. A good rule of thumb for the bigger gent is that the trouser should fall to the shoe with the gentlest of breaks in the front, and cover the top two or three eyelets of the shoe. A cuff of some depth will help keep the trouser stationed on the foot, and provide the visual weight to balance our, ahem, generous waists.

Much can be said about pattern and colour, their visual weights and how they affect the appearance of a bigger man, but for every rule there is someone whose style and panache is able to squash those rules entirely. I try to remind myself that I am accentuating the vertical as much as possible, especially in the lower body, and setting elegance as the marker of success.

There are some other points that us bigger folk can carry that a more diminutive build cannot - lapels that look generous on a bigger man can come across as overwhelming on a smaller man. The classical full overlap of a double breasted suit that can look straight jacket like on a small man is entirely appropriate over a fuller girth. And the softer, longer extension of shoulder that is loved by the Northern tailors often balances a larger waist and creates the appearance of a drop from chest to waist, while the smaller man can end up looking like a scarecrow in it.
The soft drape of chest that was the hallmark of the Scholte cut gives a louche elegance to the bigger man, and adds the feel of generosity and ease that elegance demands.

And that brings us back to the original tenet of this piece - Gravitas. Picture Babe Ruth in his bigger years wore a vested suit with all the softness and comfort as he did his baseball uniform. And in it he commanded respect by his very physicality. He had a gravitas to take something severe and humble it.
But the best example of a bigger man that could put to shame any more regularly proportioned clotheshorse is Jackie Gleason. His portrayal as Minnesota Fats in the 1961 classic “The Hustler”, he epitomizes elegance and gravitas, next to a fidgeting, sweaty and disheveled Paul Newman.
Gleason, a renowned clotheshorse in his personal life, spends the film in a three piece suit with a carnation in his buttonhole. With every shot he takes, his 250 pound figure looks as graceful as sometimes only a big man can be.