In a time of knit jean lounge pants and snuggies, it's worth asking: what's so special about a men's suit—or a well dressed man? You probably can't get a much better answer from anyone else in the city except JJ Lee.

It's hard to put one label on Lee. He works mainly as a creative consultant for a design firm, writes a weekly style column for The Vancouver Sun, and hosts the "Fashion Monday" segment on CBC Radio One's On the Coast. The list goes on: he also makes clothes, dabbles in photography, and has a not-so-secret love affair with sci-fi and comic books.

And to top off this impressive list of accomplishments, Lee also published his first book in fall 2011. The Measure of a Man is part memoir and part-social history of the suit.

The book garnered a nomination for the Governor General's Literary Award for Non-Fiction, and a spot on Amazon.ca's Top 10 list for biography and memoir in 2011. Just last week, it became one of five finalists (out of an initial 115!) for the prestigious Charles Taylor Prize for Literary Non-Fiction.

Lee sat down with me recently to discuss his book, his personal fashion philosophy, and how Peter Mansbridge can re-attach his head through the help of a better suit.

On the origins of Measure of a Man:

The Measure of a Man was originally an "Ideas" [on CBC radio] documentary that was broadcast in 2007. Measure of a Man 2007 is a lot like Measure of a Man 2011, except that a lot has happened in between, so I've taken everything that's happened and smooshed it all together.

But the real origin of the story is this conflict with my father's suit that I inherited. Or, claimed from my father's closet after he died. It made me wonder about who he was and what I wanted to be, and it bothered me a lot that the suit didn't fit me. I still can't wear it, but - and this is the real origin of the work - I really wanted to know why I needed to have that suit with me still, and why I kind of disliked it, and why I kind of loved it still. That's the beginning of the book.

On how his sister's fashion magazines made a difference:

The interest, I guess, was fairly early. I have two sisters who were into fashion, and I would look at their magazines. So I looked at [the magazines], and through osmosis I absorbed that. I've always had an interest - I've been altering clothes since I was very young. I'm not sure why, I think New Wave music may have driven it.

I have a design background. I have a Master's of Architecture. I'm not really in the [fashion] trade, and I'm not really a full-blown fashion journalist, but I'm very serious about clothes - moreso than fashion.

On being serious about clothes, rather than fashion:

You're dealt this certain hand and you've got to hammer out an identity for yourself everyday. It's the dresser's fault, because they dress as they think they will appear, but they're hopeless at understanding how they seem to others. It's a very dangerous thing, and that difference is what interests me - that space between the wardrobe mirror and catching yourself in the reflection of a store window and going, "Oh my god, what have I done?" That's more interesting to me than [Fashion], because people's closets don't change with every season. Very few people can afford to have new clothes every season. I side with the vintage buyers and the hand-me-down types; I identify with their struggle for freedom.

On training others to see a well-dressed version of you:

You can train people to see you as a well-dressed person. When I first started [at the design firm], I started wearing suits, and it was different because I was a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy. It became a bit embarrassing because when you're really trying for something special you don't want people to notice. But after three years I could wear anything. They would say, "You look good," but they wouldn't go, "Oh, what's the special occasion?" I'm the special occasion! Once you get to that point where you've trained everyone to expect you to be a certain way, even if you dress down they're still going to see you as the person who dresses in that certain way.

On how to make $20 jeans look like they cost $200:

I could get compliments on my most beat up pair of [$20 Army & Navy] jeans because they fit me perfectly and I've taken care of them. I love to tell people that you can give your jeans a $200 look by treating them like $200 jeans: don't wash them for 6 months. I did the classic John Wayne thing, which is to swim in them in the ocean so that they'd shrink around my body.

On how Bruce Wayne and Superman influences his style:

I think the first well-dressed person most boys meet in their life is Bruce Wayne, so maybe not, you know? And even despite Superman's nerdiness, he can actually wear a blue suit pretty well. We become interested in Michelangelo-esque physique through comic books. I would never have known about Michelangelo if it weren't for Don Newton, who drew Batman in the 70s and 80s. The sinewy-ness, the arabesque lines in a comic book from the Silver Age has everything to do with looking great in a suit, because they're both visual, and they're both manly. The superhero genre, especially, is a very masculine genre. You can't really go wrong with Bruce Wayne as a model.

On the state of CBC television anchors' fashion:

Newscasters bother me the most They're all trying too hard and it's ruining everything! Peter Mansbridge's [lapel] notches are going into his ears. The high notch is so popular, but I'm a big believer that the notches should be a centimeter below your tie knot. His, sometimes you will see his here [gesturing to his collar bones]. I call it "head on a plate" syndrome because it looks like he's been decapitated. So Peter, I wish he'd stop doing that, just throw out the new suits. I can't take him seriously when his notches are in a pincer maneuver like the Falaise gap in World War II. That's what it looks like! Like the Allies are about to cut off the Germans.

On the benefits of tailoring:

Tailoring is what helps keep fashion honest. I love that Old World attitude towards clothing, that if you like something, you keep it, and you do your best to fix it. There's a lot of dignity in taking care of clothes and fixing them, and having them change with you, and not treating them like commodities, like things you can buy again. My shoes are purchased with the premise that my sons will be able to wear them one day. I like the idea of inheritance - I want my sons to have my ties and my shoes, if they fit. I think you should get something made for you in your life, but you should treat it like it's for life. You don't have to spend a lot, just get it done right, once.

A final word, on pushing the possibilities of a suit to the limits:

You have to transcend with the suit. To really get somewhere with it you really have to transcend the rules, your expectations, the demands on it. The young man who is sartorially interested initially wants to know the suit is there, wants others to notice it. But when you really push it, push it, push it, and you transcend that desire, then the suit becomes nearly invisible. The reason is that your personality shines through instead, and that takes a really long time. You can be a very mature man working on Howe Street and wearing really flashy ties, and you're still kind of stuck. It's Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs—you're not at the highest level of enlightenment when it comes to clothes.

Related Posts on Schema

Book Review | The Measure of a Man

Book Review | The Better Mother

WTF Friday | Knit Jean Lounge Pants

Make sure to check out...
Official site: JJ-Lee.com
Twitter: @jj_lee

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Genie is a managing editor for Schema Magazine and self-appointed seeker-out of Schema-worthy events in Vancouver. She is a certified bookworm with a special fondness for Shakespeare and CanLit. You can follow her on Twitter @geniemak.