A Budget Tuxedo Checked All of My Fashion-Snob Boxes

Earlier this year, an invitation arrived to my first black-tie wedding. It felt like a moment I’d been waiting for my entire life. Sure, formal dress codes come with their own set of guidelines, but as a stylist (professionally) and a devoted lover of dressing up (personally), the RSVP elicited a lot more excitement than anxiety. The one complication? As part of the bridal party—that’s bridesman, to you—I would be wearing burgundy. Not necessarily in the form of a tuxedo, the bride-to-be assured me, but at the very least a suit. Suddenly, the stakes increased exponentially. Challenge accepted.

Thus began the type of all-consuming side quest that’d stump even the savviest sartorialist: secure the absolute best burgundy suit on the market, and make it look distinctly me. My criteria were simple, or so I thought: I wanted a classic fit (jacket not too tight, trousers not too tapered) that felt a little fashion (an unexpected lapel, maybe a freaky fabric), without distracting from the main event (read: no glitter). I was willing to pay a premium for a premium product, but I was also pretty loath to smash my totally arbitrary price ceiling of about $2,000.

For nearly eight months, my search took me far and wide, to no avail. I crossed-off stalwarts from Suitsupply (too stiff) and Mr. Porter’s in-house label (too casual). I nixed alternatives from designer heavyweights like Ralph Lauren Purple Label (too slim) and Tom Ford (too, uh, six-thousand dollars). Nothing felt quite right.

Ten days before the wedding I was still suitless. So in a moment of despair, I typed ‘men’s burgundy suit’ into Google for the twentieth time, expecting the algorithm to spit up the same roster of stale results. Instead, I encountered what felt like the answer to my prayers: a shawl-collar velvet tuxedo in a color called ‘ruby plum purple’ from none other than…Banana Republic. I was legitimately shocked by how good it looked online, and downright nonplussed by the price tag. The full rig cost $785—including tax and overnight shipping. My totally arbitrary price ceiling would remain mercifully intact.

Here’s a stylist-approved tip for you: If you save on a suit, spend a little more tailoring it to near-bespoke perfection. And if you save on a tuxedo, put the extra cash towards underpinnings that’ll manifest a steady stream of black tie invitations in perpetuity. I heeded my own advice, which meant springing for a pleated bib-front shirt and a charmingly flouncy bow tie, both from Tom Ford, a perpetual master of the form.

By the time the big day finally rolled around, my tux fit like a glove, and I felt like a very burgundy Bond. (The real vindication, of course, was the sheer amount of people asking me where I bought my suit.) In retrospect, the epic nature of the journey led me to an equally epic epiphany: a gorgeous suit is a gorgeous suit, regardless of the name on its tag. And if the opportunity arises to wear a tuxedo so regal it’d make a Renaissance courtier blush, you might want to check Banana Republic first.