In the sartorial narrative of men's suits, the evolution of pockets tells a story far richer than mere fabric and thread. What began as purely functional repositories for a gentleman's essentials has, over centuries, transformed into a nuanced language of style, status, and subtle decoration. The journey of the suit pocket is a mirror to the changing roles of men in society, reflecting shifts from utilitarian needs to the sophisticated codes of modern elegance.

The earliest ancestors of the modern suit, emerging in the courts of 17th-century Europe, were not concerned with minimalism. Men's attire was ornate and often included large external pockets, sometimes even voluminous pockets sewn onto breeches, designed to carry everything from coins and snuff boxes to more substantial personal effects. Function was paramount. As the frock coat became the standard daywear in the 19th century, pockets were integrated into the garment's seams but remained generous and obvious, built for the practicalities of a life that might include carrying a pocket watch, a cigar case, or business papers.

The turn of the 20th century and the rise of the modern lounge suit marked a pivotal moment. As tailoring became more refined and the silhouette more streamlined, the bulky, utilitarian pockets of the past began to seem crude. The focus shifted inward, towards a cleaner, more elegant line. This is when the jetted or besom pocket truly came into its own. A slit in the fabric, finished with a thin, taut strip of lining, the jetted pocket offered a seamless and virtually invisible way to integrate storage without disrupting the suit’s smooth facade. It was the ultimate marriage of discreet function and understated style, becoming the standard for the formal breast pocket on a suit jacket, a place reserved for a handkerchief or, nothing at all.

Yet, the suit could not entirely abandon its practical roots. The answer was the flap pocket. Emerging from its military origins—where the flap served to protect a soldier's ammunition from the elements—this style was adopted into civilian wear for its rugged practicality. The flap provided protection for the contents of the pocket, making it ideal for country suits and more casual sport coats. However, as the suit became ubiquitous in urban professional life, the flap pocket was refined. Today, the option to tuck the flap inside the pocket, converting it into a sleeker jetted style, is a testament to this enduring negotiation between the suit’s functional past and its decorative present.

Perhaps no pocket exemplifies the shift from pure utility to ornamentation more than the breast pocket. Once a functional holdall, it is now almost exclusively a decorative feature. A suit jacket without a breast pocket would look incomplete, yet its primary modern function is to hold a tastefully folded pocket square—a pure accessory meant to inject personality and color into an ensemble. The way a man folds his pocket square—a crisp presidential fold, a soft puff, a flamboyant points fold—communicates his style ethos more loudly than almost any other sartorial detail. The pocket itself is merely the stage for this decorative performance.

Other pocket styles have followed a similar path from workwear to high fashion. The patch pocket, with its origins in the casual jackets of sportsmen and laborers, was once the antithesis of formal tailoring. A piece of fabric simply stitched on top of the garment, it was the definition of utilitarian. Yet, in contemporary menswear, a impeccably tailored patch pocket on an unstructured linen blazer or a high-end sport coat signals a relaxed, confident elegance. Its function is almost entirely overshadowed by its stylistic statement. Similarly, the ticket pocket, a smaller secondary pocket perched above the right main pocket, harkens back to a time when a gentleman needed quick access to a train ticket. Today, it is a deliberate anachronism, a decorative detail favored on British-inspired suits that signals a deep appreciation for tailoring tradition, its original purpose largely forgotten.

The evolution is also evident in what has been removed. The proliferation of pockets on a suit—the fob pockets, the ticket pockets, the map pockets inside—has been streamlined for the modern man who carries less. The interior of a fine suit jacket is still a marvel of craftsmanship, with pockets for pens, cards, and glasses, but these are hidden away, preserving the clean external silhouette. This internal organization allows the exterior to remain minimalist and decorative, focusing on the art of the silhouette rather than the pragmatism of storage.

In examining the modern suit, the treatment of pockets is now a key indicator of its intended purpose and formality. A formal tuxedo will typically have no flaps on its pockets, only jetted seams, promoting a sleek, uninterrupted line. A business suit may have conservative flap pockets, often with the option to tuck them in. A casual sport coat might boldly feature patch pockets, celebrating its relaxed heritage. This coded language allows the wearer to communicate nuance without saying a word.

Ultimately, the story of the suit pocket is a chronicle of refinement. It is a movement from the overt and practical to the integrated and aesthetic. The pockets on a man's suit have been meticulously designed, debated, and refined over generations to serve a new master: not utility, but beauty. They are no longer just places to hold things; they are essential elements of design, historical references, and subtle proclamations of taste. They complete the architecture of the suit, proving that in the highest forms of dress, even the most functional elements can be elevated to the level of art.