Behind the Scenes: Creating a Regulation-Ready Bow Tie for a Professional Snooker Player
- Steve Farr
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read

Last week, I was commissioned to create a fully bespoke bow tie for a professional snooker player — and from the very first conversation, I knew this would be about far more than colour and cloth.
Snooker is one of the few modern sports that still dresses for the occasion. Governed at amateur level by the World Snooker Federation, the sport maintains a formal dress code that leaves very little to interpretation. The bow tie must be standard or crossover in style. It must be tightened properly to the collar. It must substantially obscure the top shirt button. Waistcoat tailored. Trousers formal. Shoes polished. It is, quite literally, written into the rules.
And those rules are not arbitrary.
Snooker’s sartorial discipline stretches back to its late-19th-century origins, when cue sports were played in gentlemen’s clubs and private billiard rooms. Formal dress was simply how one presented oneself in respectable society. As the game professionalised — shaped by early champions such as Joe Davis and later governed by bodies like the World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association — the attire remained. It became part of the sport’s identity. Even today, at venues such as the Crucible Theatre, the waistcoat and bow tie signal something ceremonial. This is competition, yes — but it is also theatre, discipline, heritage.
So when my client approached me, he wasn’t simply asking for a beautiful accessory. He needed a piece that would satisfy regulation, withstand scrutiny, and sit correctly under unforgiving broadcast lighting.
And yet — within those boundaries — he wanted it to feel like him. Interestingly, he chose cotton.
In a world where silk is often considered the default for formalwear, cotton felt like a quietly confident decision. Cotton does not shout. It absorbs light rather than reflecting it. Under the intense lighting of a televised match, that matters. Too much sheen can glare; too little structure can collapse. Cotton, when chosen carefully, offers integrity. Breathability during long sessions. A firm, architectural knot. A texture that reads as refined rather than flashy.
We selected a tightly woven cotton with enough body to hold its shape for hours at the table. The interlining was chosen specifically to ensure that, once tied, the bow would sit securely and fully obscure the shirt’s top button — precisely as required by the dress code. That detail alone required careful calibration. Too soft, and it would dip. Too thick, and it would look bulky.
Because this was truly bespoke, everything was adjusted to him. The blade width was proportioned to his collar spread and jawline. The knot scale was refined to ensure clean button coverage without overwhelming his features. The strap was set to the exact length required so it would neither shift nor twist during play. We considered how it looked standing upright — and how it looked when he leaned low over the baize, cue extended, shoulders forward.
When a snooker player bends into position, the camera sees everything.
In that respect, tailoring and snooker share an obsession with millimetres. A fraction too wide, too narrow, too loose, too tight — and the eye notices. In his world, millimetres decide frames. In mine, they decide balance.
What I loved most about this commission was the subtlety of his self-expression. The colour choice was distinctive but disciplined. The cotton’s weave had depth that revealed itself up close, yet read as impeccably classic from a distance. It respected the sport. It respected the rules. But it still felt personal.
And that, to me, is the essence of bespoke craftsmanship — not rebellion against tradition, but intelligent conversation with it.
Snooker’s dress code exists because the sport values composure, respect, and presentation. The bow tie is not decorative; it is symbolic. It tells the audience that this is serious. It tells the opponent that you respect the contest. It tells the wearer to stand tall.
Creating this piece reminded me that the smallest details often carry the greatest weight. When he steps under the lights, waistcoat buttoned, cotton bow tie centred neatly at the collar, he is not just dressed correctly — he is dressed with intention.
And knowing that something I made will sit at the centre of that quiet, focused theatre — against the green cloth, in the hush before a decisive shot — is a privilege I do not take lightly.
If you ever need a bow tie that honours tradition, satisfies regulation, and still feels entirely your own, I would be delighted to create it.




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