Caustic Man
Stylish Dinosaur
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I know that the esoteric aspects of menswear isn't exactly popular here, but I thought I would paste this WSJ article on the resurgence of classic menswear for those interested, and who do not have a WSJ subscription. Enjoy.
MAX GABY MAY be only 25, but his well-tailored wardrobe suggests a man in full, somebody whose style acumen doesn't compute with his youthful, digital-era age.
One could attribute Mr. Gaby's put-together aesthetic to his traditional upbringing in bucolic Flossmoor, Ill.—think Little League Saturdays, a big front yard and a Golden Lab—but his true sartorial influence is his grandfather Lou Gaby.
"My grandfather taught me that a man always carries a handkerchief and always needs a clean-cut hairstyle," said Max, a private-equity firm associate who lives in Chicago. He described Lou as a quiet, self-made man who walked out the door each morning in a custom suit and a fedora. While his father is no slouch, Max explained, "he requires comfort in his dress."
Perhaps it's the legacy of the baby boomers who loosened their collars and made every day a Casual Friday, but many men are looking past dear old Dad and finding lessons in their grandfathers' wardrobes.
"My dad dressed to rebel from how his own dad dressed," said Michael Williams, 34, founder of menswear blog A Continuous Lean. "It makes sense to go back to your grandfather's generation considering how casual everyone has become. Guys dress in suits now because everybody [else] is wearing sweatpants."
Max isn't alone in holding his grandfather up as a sepia-toned style icon. Lee Milazzo, 42, the owner of an art gallery in Greenwich, Conn., remembers well his coal-miner grandfather. "I adopted a mantra from him," he said. "Always dress like you are going somewhere better."
To that effect, Mr. Milazzo wears custom-made sport coats, leather boots and, in the summer, tailored jackets made of cotton shirting. "My grandfather never forgot about style, and wore a suit every day," said Mr. Milazzo. "When he passed away, my father gave me his old suits and hats knowing that I would be the only one in the family to really appreciate them."
New York-based photographer Robert Banat, 51, called his Sicilian-born grandfather, Thomas Neri, "the king of plaid shirts long before it was cool." Mr. Banat now wears his inherited wristwatches and tie clips, and has picked up Mr. Neri's habit of wearing a hat year-round (his grandfather's old beaver-fur fedora is one of his prized possessions), as well as brandishing a mustache.
Former Skechers executive Rick Wolfe, 43, said his grandfather taught him how to be a gentleman. "He wore a pressed white shirt, blazer and trousers every day," said Mr. Wolfe. "He would have been a Ralph Lauren model were he alive today." Mr. Wolfe, who is now executive director of Columbus, Ohio's historic public market, opts for "timeless classics" from labels like Barbour and Turnbull & Asser.
New York financier Chris Schumacher, 36, appreciated, among other things, the ever-present hat, pipe and stylish ankle boots of his grandfather, Oscar Schumacher, a landowner from Winchester, Va.
"He had a Southern casualness that I still admire," Chris said. "And he didn't try hard at it." The younger Mr. Schumacher is rarely seen without a Lock & Co. Hatters fedora and favors ankle boots from Foster & Son. He added, "My father was a career Navy man. He instilled in me a sense of history and attention to detail, but he looked best in uniform. I'll gently leave it at that."
These men reflect what's been going on in American menswear for several seasons: the revival of a traditionalist aesthetic, which dovetails at times with the heritage movement. You can see it everywhere from J. Crew to up-and-coming New York label Bespoken.
"They're not rediscovering old-timey men's shops or department stores their grandfathers frequented," said Tyler Thoreson, vice president of men's editorial and creative at Gilt Groupe. "They're going to the new breed of store that references the past, but in a modern way."
The grandpa-admiration society has a growing number of excellent outfitters for its pocket squares, patterned bow ties and custom shirts—from Sid Mashburn in Atlanta and Haberdash in Chicago to Brooklyn Tailors in New York and Aidan Gill for Men in New Orleans.
Some of the society's card-carrying members have been inspired enough to start labels of their own. British-born Robert Godley founded classic-with-a-twist neckwear company Psycho Bunny with his American partner Robert Goldman in 2006. They use English silks made in a 270-year-old mill that are then sewn by hand in Mr. Goldman's family-owned third-generation tie workshop in Belleville, N.J. The collection has grown to include polo shirts, swim trunks and socks.
Mr. Godley, 41, who now lives in New York, talked about his grandfather Antony Opie, who wore plus-fours when golfing. "He was always well presented," said Mr. Godley. "He smoked a pipe and if it was not in his hand you would often see smoke pouring out of the pocket on his sport coat." Mr. Godley's uniform consists of bench-made English shoes, a spread-collar shirt under a sport coat and, of course, a tie. His modern twist: It's all worn with jeans.
Mark "Mac" McMillan, 38, owner of Pierrepont Hicks, the Minneapolis specialty clothing shop, started his company in 2009 with a collection of trim and classic ties, partly as a reaction to his own father's "cheesy and '70s-style wide" neckwear, which was handed down to him. He has since expanded to outerwear and shoes.
Mr. McMillan said that at least half of his customers are in their 20s, and reported that one of his best-selling items is a square-ended bow tie inspired by those worn by designer Charles Eames in the '50s and '60s. What Mr. McMillan thinks is partially propelling a new interest in dressing well among the younger set is the removal of a men's style taboo. "It's OK now for guys to discuss clothing the way they discuss gadgets," he said.
That's one major difference between these men and their granddads: the element of choice. For the earlier generation, said Mr. McMillan, dressing well was "just what they did."
"What I love is that the current generation is discovering the pleasures of putting some effort into how they look," said Gilt's Mr. Thoreson. "But now it's out of choice, not obligation."
Men of bygone eras, of course, dressed accordingly out of sheer respect for themselves and others. In the hazy light of nostalgia, the first half of the last century has a firefly-catching innocence. It was a simpler time when men donned hats out of civility, not as affectation. That feeling in itself can be very attractive in today's fully wired world.
"[It's] pushing guys to long for a simpler look, when everything else in their lives has become increasingly complicated," said Chris Schumacher.
Though this way of sartorial thinking seems to be largely an East Coast and, to some degree, a Midwestern phenomenon, it has infiltrated the land of artifice: Los Angeles. In hipster enclaves like Silver Lake and Abbot Kinney Boulevard in Venice Beach, grandpa style is in full Geritol steam.
Case in point: the proliferation of gentlemanly stores like Douglas Fir, Confederacy, General Quarters (which also houses a barber shop) and Mattison, known for its locally made tailored jackets. Recently, the much-loved Mohawk General Store spun off a menswear-only satellite called Mohawk Man.
Whether it can be attributed to Grandpa or not, smart, dapper dressing seems to have a manifest destiny. "Men's tailoring is being appreciated like never before," said A Continuous Lean's Mr. Williams. "I try to dress in a way that won't embarrass me in 20 years." Future grandsons, take note.
MAX GABY MAY be only 25, but his well-tailored wardrobe suggests a man in full, somebody whose style acumen doesn't compute with his youthful, digital-era age.
One could attribute Mr. Gaby's put-together aesthetic to his traditional upbringing in bucolic Flossmoor, Ill.—think Little League Saturdays, a big front yard and a Golden Lab—but his true sartorial influence is his grandfather Lou Gaby.
"My grandfather taught me that a man always carries a handkerchief and always needs a clean-cut hairstyle," said Max, a private-equity firm associate who lives in Chicago. He described Lou as a quiet, self-made man who walked out the door each morning in a custom suit and a fedora. While his father is no slouch, Max explained, "he requires comfort in his dress."
Perhaps it's the legacy of the baby boomers who loosened their collars and made every day a Casual Friday, but many men are looking past dear old Dad and finding lessons in their grandfathers' wardrobes.
"My dad dressed to rebel from how his own dad dressed," said Michael Williams, 34, founder of menswear blog A Continuous Lean. "It makes sense to go back to your grandfather's generation considering how casual everyone has become. Guys dress in suits now because everybody [else] is wearing sweatpants."
Max isn't alone in holding his grandfather up as a sepia-toned style icon. Lee Milazzo, 42, the owner of an art gallery in Greenwich, Conn., remembers well his coal-miner grandfather. "I adopted a mantra from him," he said. "Always dress like you are going somewhere better."
To that effect, Mr. Milazzo wears custom-made sport coats, leather boots and, in the summer, tailored jackets made of cotton shirting. "My grandfather never forgot about style, and wore a suit every day," said Mr. Milazzo. "When he passed away, my father gave me his old suits and hats knowing that I would be the only one in the family to really appreciate them."
New York-based photographer Robert Banat, 51, called his Sicilian-born grandfather, Thomas Neri, "the king of plaid shirts long before it was cool." Mr. Banat now wears his inherited wristwatches and tie clips, and has picked up Mr. Neri's habit of wearing a hat year-round (his grandfather's old beaver-fur fedora is one of his prized possessions), as well as brandishing a mustache.
Former Skechers executive Rick Wolfe, 43, said his grandfather taught him how to be a gentleman. "He wore a pressed white shirt, blazer and trousers every day," said Mr. Wolfe. "He would have been a Ralph Lauren model were he alive today." Mr. Wolfe, who is now executive director of Columbus, Ohio's historic public market, opts for "timeless classics" from labels like Barbour and Turnbull & Asser.
New York financier Chris Schumacher, 36, appreciated, among other things, the ever-present hat, pipe and stylish ankle boots of his grandfather, Oscar Schumacher, a landowner from Winchester, Va.
"He had a Southern casualness that I still admire," Chris said. "And he didn't try hard at it." The younger Mr. Schumacher is rarely seen without a Lock & Co. Hatters fedora and favors ankle boots from Foster & Son. He added, "My father was a career Navy man. He instilled in me a sense of history and attention to detail, but he looked best in uniform. I'll gently leave it at that."
“'It makes sense to go back to your grandfather's generation considering how casual everyone has become.'”
"They're not rediscovering old-timey men's shops or department stores their grandfathers frequented," said Tyler Thoreson, vice president of men's editorial and creative at Gilt Groupe. "They're going to the new breed of store that references the past, but in a modern way."
The grandpa-admiration society has a growing number of excellent outfitters for its pocket squares, patterned bow ties and custom shirts—from Sid Mashburn in Atlanta and Haberdash in Chicago to Brooklyn Tailors in New York and Aidan Gill for Men in New Orleans.
Some of the society's card-carrying members have been inspired enough to start labels of their own. British-born Robert Godley founded classic-with-a-twist neckwear company Psycho Bunny with his American partner Robert Goldman in 2006. They use English silks made in a 270-year-old mill that are then sewn by hand in Mr. Goldman's family-owned third-generation tie workshop in Belleville, N.J. The collection has grown to include polo shirts, swim trunks and socks.
Mr. Godley, 41, who now lives in New York, talked about his grandfather Antony Opie, who wore plus-fours when golfing. "He was always well presented," said Mr. Godley. "He smoked a pipe and if it was not in his hand you would often see smoke pouring out of the pocket on his sport coat." Mr. Godley's uniform consists of bench-made English shoes, a spread-collar shirt under a sport coat and, of course, a tie. His modern twist: It's all worn with jeans.
Mark "Mac" McMillan, 38, owner of Pierrepont Hicks, the Minneapolis specialty clothing shop, started his company in 2009 with a collection of trim and classic ties, partly as a reaction to his own father's "cheesy and '70s-style wide" neckwear, which was handed down to him. He has since expanded to outerwear and shoes.
Mr. McMillan said that at least half of his customers are in their 20s, and reported that one of his best-selling items is a square-ended bow tie inspired by those worn by designer Charles Eames in the '50s and '60s. What Mr. McMillan thinks is partially propelling a new interest in dressing well among the younger set is the removal of a men's style taboo. "It's OK now for guys to discuss clothing the way they discuss gadgets," he said.
That's one major difference between these men and their granddads: the element of choice. For the earlier generation, said Mr. McMillan, dressing well was "just what they did."
"What I love is that the current generation is discovering the pleasures of putting some effort into how they look," said Gilt's Mr. Thoreson. "But now it's out of choice, not obligation."
Men of bygone eras, of course, dressed accordingly out of sheer respect for themselves and others. In the hazy light of nostalgia, the first half of the last century has a firefly-catching innocence. It was a simpler time when men donned hats out of civility, not as affectation. That feeling in itself can be very attractive in today's fully wired world.
"[It's] pushing guys to long for a simpler look, when everything else in their lives has become increasingly complicated," said Chris Schumacher.
Though this way of sartorial thinking seems to be largely an East Coast and, to some degree, a Midwestern phenomenon, it has infiltrated the land of artifice: Los Angeles. In hipster enclaves like Silver Lake and Abbot Kinney Boulevard in Venice Beach, grandpa style is in full Geritol steam.
Case in point: the proliferation of gentlemanly stores like Douglas Fir, Confederacy, General Quarters (which also houses a barber shop) and Mattison, known for its locally made tailored jackets. Recently, the much-loved Mohawk General Store spun off a menswear-only satellite called Mohawk Man.
Whether it can be attributed to Grandpa or not, smart, dapper dressing seems to have a manifest destiny. "Men's tailoring is being appreciated like never before," said A Continuous Lean's Mr. Williams. "I try to dress in a way that won't embarrass me in 20 years." Future grandsons, take note.
