The quality of the workmanship seems satisfactory, as far as I can tell. The material seems fine, maybe a little stiff at first. I haven’t worn them often enough to tell if they last, but they haven’t failed yet. I only bought them for those very rare occasions where I have to wear a jacket and tie; due to my lifestyle choices, those don’t come up often.
“Executive Cut,” a quick search online tells me, is what they called “portly” the last time I bought a suit. Good decision on the name change. I’m sure the salesman saw me thinking, “Do I really need a suit for my dad’s funeral?” when he took me to the “portly” section.
Personally, I wouldn’t mind buying from the “portly” section, I have no illusions about my shape, but those didn’t seem to fit much better than the regular ones.
I often look at fat men in old movies, where they wore suits all the time, and their suits always fit perfectly. Sydney Greenstreet, Edward Arnold, and Eugene Pallette are some good examples. Of course, they were often playing well-to-do people and probably had tailor-made suits in the story, but I’m sure they were also tailor-made in real life. Those were the days for fat men, I’ll tell you. I’m not quite as middle-heavy as those guys, but I still don’t fit off-the-rack suits and sport coats.
The real glory days were the Gilded Age, when six dozen oysters was the appetizer at lunch and William Howard Taft clocked in at 340 pounds. Of course politicians and tycoons all had their clothes tailor made.
Costumes are still most often made to measure for actors, though, unless it’s a low-budget movie.
I didn’t/don’t either, I just didn’t need the reminder under the circumstances.