It happens. You’ve got a Laurel Manor date, a brother, and the friend you’ve had since Franklin High, and you can’t choose. So you name both. Two best men. Two toasts. Two men who are each, in their own head, the one standing beside you, and who will each, without ever saying so, try to dress like it. The photograph won’t hold two best men competing and one of you.
The rule
You have one thing nobody else has. The two best men have one thing the groomsmen don’t. The groomsmen match each other. That’s all of it. Every man needs to know where he sits before he touches a rack, or you end up with six men in six versions of navy.
How it goes on the floor
Bring them all in together, on one order, and ask about group pricing for parties of five or more. The party goes into one cloth. The two best men get the same second thing, a vest or a tie in a different shade, and they get it at the same moment, so neither one was first. Yours comes last, in front of everybody, so everybody sees it’s yours.
The fit is separate from the rank
Every man is fitted to his own shoulders, and none of this changes that. Roman, master tailor at Lincoln Tailor, on site in our store, hems each pair of trousers to the shoes that man actually owns. The brother who’s three inches taller still looks like himself in the same cloth.
Also for Livonia: Laurel Manor, 1,200 Guests: The Groom at Forty Feet. More on wedding suits, or plan your visit to our Oak Park showroom.
