A Few Good Shirts

Especially since quality also lasts. Upscale—as opposed to just overpriced—shirts, for example, come with heavy mother-of-pearl buttons lock-stitched onto the placket, making them much less likely to break in pressing than the thin, cheap plastic ones (see Republic, Banana). Then there's the material. Erika Kawalek, author of the forthcoming "Ragpicker," a cultural history of secondhand clothing, says much of a garment's life expectancy depends on its fabric. Though Pima cotton is more expensive, for instance, it is "far superior in strength and durability," she explains. "So it will wear longer before it shows signs of use."

With suits, the advantages are even more pronounced. Mark Henderson, deputy chairman of Gieves and Hawkes, says his Savile Row bespoke-suit service starts by offering customers a choice of about 10,000 fabrics, most of them fine wools and cashmeres woven in England. After extensive measurements, the suits are constructed during three fittings over about 50 hours (versus 90 minutes for a factory-made number). Nearly every stitch is done by hand; because it fits perfectly, "you're not putting the stitching under stress as you're sitting down or waving your arms," Henderson says. As a result a bespoke suit can last for generations.

So can other luxuries that never go out of style. In the art world, contemporary Chinese art sales have tanked since the Shanghai Contemporary Art Fair in September, while the old masters are going strong; "Bagpipe Player in Profile," a 1624 work by the Dutch painter Hendrick Ter Brugghen, sold for a record $10.2 million at Sotheby's New York in January—$400,000 more than its highest estimate. And the Yves Saint Laurent auction in Paris in February raised a European record of $484 million, thanks in part to works like Matisse's "Les Coucous, Tapis Bleu et Rose," which sold for just under $45.3 million—double its estimate.

This isn't to say that we should all run out and blow what's left of our portfolios on a Picasso (though if you have the cash, it's not a bad idea). All it takes to economize through value shopping is a little discipline. Start small—an Hermès tie, a pair of Church's shoes. Remember that costly doesn't necessarily equal quality; do your research first. Whatever you pick, avoid the vagaries of style and make sure you opt for a true classic that will age well. Thankfully, these can now be found at unusually reasonable prices. Retailers across the board are offering deep discounts, including never-before-seen markdowns in cities like Paris and Rome.

But if expensive treasures are to last, they must be treated with respect. Kawalek, the clothing historian, points out that during the Great Depression many people had only one or two good ensembles—not for nothing the term "Sunday best"—and thus handled them lovingly. "There's one way to describe the old way of thinking, and that's 'stewardship'," she says. To ensure that their garments had long lives, people took special care: washing them as soon as they took them off, mending flaws the moment they appeared, and repurposing items as they fell apart. Signs are that shoppers today have already gotten the message; New York Magazine reported in February that business at cobblers and repair stores is way up.

One final recommendation: while adjusting to the economy, now might be a good time to get rid of all that cheap, trendy stuff you don't actually use. I've decided, for example, to give up my surplus shirts (full disclosure, at my editor's insistence: the total number is around 62, minus those in the overflow room I couldn't bear counting), handing off the extras to an organization like Dress for Success, which supplies work outfits to the needy and unemployed to help them get jobs. It's economically and socially responsible. In fact, it's making me feel so virtuous that I just might decide to celebrate. But not by shopping. Unless, of course, you know of a really good sale.

With Sarah Garland, Anita Kirpalani and Marialuisa Plassmann

© 2009