What to Wear as an Expat Executive in Riyadh

Most expat executives I meet in Riyadh are dressed wrong. Not badly. Wrong. The suit that worked in Frankfurt or Singapore or Canary Wharf does not work here, and the men wearing it can usually feel it before they can name it.

That gap, between knowing something is off and knowing what to fix, is what this piece is for.

I cut for clients in two cities: Liverpool, from my studio at the Royal Albert Dock, and Riyadh, from Wadi Qortuba. I see the same man in both. He arrives in the Kingdom on a three-year posting, brings a wardrobe built for a different climate and a different room, and within four months realises his suits are working against him. Heat. Light. Local protocol. The weight of who he's sitting opposite.

Let me walk you through what actually works here, and why.

The core misunderstanding

Riyadh is not London with sun. It is a different brief entirely.

In London, your suit absorbs the room. Soft light, cool air, conservative palette. A navy worsted does its job and disappears. In Riyadh, the suit is interrogated. The light is harder, the air is hotter for nine months of the year, and the men you're meeting, whether at KAFD, Al Olaya, or a majlis in a private home, read clothing with more precision than most Western executives realise.

A poorly cut jacket reads as carelessness. A heavy English worsted reads as ignorance of the climate. A flashy lining reads as trying too hard. None of these are recoverable in a first meeting.

What works is the opposite. Cut that fits the body precisely. Cloth chosen for the weather. Restraint in the details. That is the entire game.

What I look for when I dress a man for Riyadh

1. Cloth before cut

I start every Riyadh consultation with the cloth book, not the measuring tape. The single most common error I correct is a suit cut for British weather being asked to perform in Saudi heat. It cannot.

For my Riyadh clients I work mostly with high-twist wools from Holland & Sherry's Crispaire and Cool Breeze books, the lighter end of Vitale Barberis Canonico's tropical range, and selected pieces from Piacenza for the warmer months. For winter, and Riyadh does have one between December and February, a mid-weight from Scabal or a Loro Piana flannel earns its place.

Linen has a role but a narrow one. It creases. For a Director or Managing Partner who will sit through four meetings before lunch, linen is a liability. I'll cut linen for evenings and weekends, rarely for the boardroom.

2. Construction that survives the climate

A floating canvas chest is non-negotiable in this work. Fused jackets, where the front of the coat is glued rather than stitched, bubble in heat. I've seen it on men in Riyadh more times than I can count, and once it happens the suit is finished.

Every jacket I cut has a hand-padded canvas chest that moves with the body and dries with it. Hand-worked silk buttonholes. Patterns cut from paper for that client, kept in my archive, refined with each commission. This is the standard I trained to alongside Savile Row cutters, and I have not relaxed it for either studio.

3. A palette that respects the room

Charcoal, navy, mid-grey, stone, soft tobacco. Those five carry ninety percent of a serious executive wardrobe in Riyadh.

I steer clients away from black, which photographs badly in Saudi light and feels funereal in daylight meetings, and away from the loud blues that have crept into European corporate dress over the last decade. A Diplomat or senior CEO does not need his suit to announce him. The cut and the cloth do that work quietly.

4. Cut for the man, not the trend

A jacket that fits the shoulder, releases at the waist, sits clean over the seat. Trouser break calibrated to the shoe, not to a magazine. Sleeve length that shows a quarter-inch of shirt cuff and no more.

These are not stylistic opinions. They are measurements, and they are either right or they are wrong on your frame. Trends are how off-the-peg houses sell you a second suit. They have no place in bespoke.

5. The process itself

I do not have a shop floor. I never have. Consultations happen at the client's home, his office, or in one of my two studios at the Royal Albert Dock in Liverpool and Wadi Qortuba in Riyadh, by appointment only.

A first commission runs across three fittings minimum and takes between ten and fourteen weeks. The pattern is cut by hand for you and archived. Every subsequent commission is faster, because the pattern already knows your body.

That relationship, tailor and client over years rather than a transaction over an afternoon, is what bespoke actually means.

For the founder building something in the Kingdom

If you are a Saudi Founder scaling a business, or an expat building a venture here, your wardrobe is part of your capital. I say that without dramatising it.

The men you are raising money from, partnering with, or hiring read you in the first ninety seconds. A suit that fits, in a cloth appropriate to the climate, in a palette that respects the setting, removes one variable from that judgement. It does not win the meeting for you. It stops you from losing it before you've spoken.

I dress a number of Founders working out of Al Olaya and Al Nakheel. The brief is consistent. Serious cloth, quiet palette, faultless cut, nothing that looks like it's trying. Two suits, three shirts, and a blazer-and-trouser combination will carry a founder through almost any week here.

For the expat executive on a three-year posting

If you've arrived from London, Zurich, or Singapore, here is the honest version of what to do.

Bring one or two of your existing suits. Wear them for the first month. You will learn quickly which fabrics fail you and which cuts feel wrong in the new context. That information is more useful than any advice I can give you cold.

Then commission properly. Three suits, cut to a Riyadh brief of high-twist wool, mid-weight construction, restrained palette, will replace eight suits from your old wardrobe and serve you better. A senior Legal or Finance professional posted to KAFD does not need a deeper wardrobe than that. He needs three suits that work, not eight that nearly do.

I see clients at their home, their office in KAFD or Al Olaya, or at my Wadi Qortuba studio. Whichever is least disruptive to the diary.

"But shouldn't I just fly to London?"

This is the question I'm asked most, and I will answer it directly.

If you want to be measured on Savile Row, fly to Savile Row. The houses there are excellent at what they do, and I will not pretend otherwise.

What I will say is this. I trained alongside those cutters. The construction standard in my work, hand-cut patterns, floating canvas, hand-worked buttonholes, mills like Holland & Sherry and Scabal, is the same standard. The difference is that I will see you in your office in Riyadh on a Tuesday morning, or at your home in Wadi Qortuba on a Friday afternoon, and I will see you again for the next fitting three weeks later without you boarding a plane.

For a Managing Partner whose time costs more per hour than the suit itself, that calculus tends to settle the question.

The same logic applies to my Liverpool clients. A Director based in the North West, or a professional in Merseyside, does not need to travel to London for work of this standard. The Royal Albert Dock studio exists for exactly that reason.

A checklist before you commission anything in Riyadh

Use these questions on any tailor you're considering, including me.

1. What weight of cloth do you recommend for Riyadh between April and October, and which mill is it from?

2. Is the canvas in the chest floating and hand-padded, or fused?

3. Will my pattern be cut by hand and kept on file for future commissions?

4. How many fittings are included, and over what timeframe?

5. Where will the fittings happen, and who conducts them?

6. Can I see finished work on a client of similar build, with permission?

7. What is your standard for buttonholes, linings, and internal finishing?

If any answer is vague, you have your answer.

FAQ

How many suits do I actually need as an executive in Riyadh?

Three, cut properly, will serve most of my clients. A charcoal, a navy, and a mid-grey covers ninety percent of working life. Add a stone or soft tobacco for warmer-weather meetings and you have a complete wardrobe.

What's the lightest cloth I can wear and still look serious?

A high-twist wool in the 240 to 280 gram range, with Crispaire from Holland & Sherry as the reference point, wears cool, holds its shape, and reads as a proper suit. Anything lighter starts to look casual.

Can you accommodate thobe-and-suit lifestyles?

Yes. Several of my Saudi clients move between thobe for some settings and suit for others. The wardrobe is built around that reality, not in spite of it.

How long does a first commission take?

Ten to fourteen weeks across three fittings. Subsequent suits, once your pattern is established, run faster.

Do you travel between Liverpool and Riyadh?

I do, on a regular schedule. Clients can be seen in either studio, or at their home or office in either city.

Is bespoke worth it if I'm only posted here for three years?

A bespoke suit, looked after, lasts fifteen to twenty years. Your posting ends. The wardrobe doesn't.

What does the first conversation look like?

A coffee. Forty-five minutes. No measuring tape on the first meeting unless you want one. I want to understand your week, your meetings, your existing wardrobe and what's failing in it, before I talk about cloth.

Do you work with grooms?

I do, primarily in Liverpool, where I dress a number of grooms each year, typically six to eighteen months out from the wedding. That's a separate conversation from this piece, but the standard is the same.

What's the price range?

I share that directly in conversation rather than on a website. It is not the cheapest option in either city, and it is not the most expensive. It reflects the construction, the cloth, and the hours.

Closing

I'm not trying to sell you a suit in this article. I'm trying to give you a clearer view of a decision that most expat executives in Riyadh make once and live with for years.

If what I've written here matches how you think about your work, your time, and the standard you hold yourself to, then we should have a conversation. Not a booking. A conversation. Coffee at your office in KAFD, your home in Wadi Qortuba or Al Nakheel, or my studio. Forty-five minutes. No tape measure unless you ask for one.

You can find me on Instagram at @michael_frackowiak or at michaelfrackowiak.com. The studios are at the Royal Albert Dock in Liverpool and Wadi Qortuba in Riyadh.

For men whose presence carries consequence.

Michael