Apologies in advance. This is going to get grandpa-ificatory on you.
Ever since my grandfather passed away last October, I’ve found myself thinking of him frequently. Normally when I’m folding laundry (he had a serious shirt folding game). Or wearing a pocket square (he taught me everything I know about them). But the other day it occurred to me that my grandfather took clothing shopping to an art form.
Growing up I don’t remember my grandfather ever shopping for clothes. Not in the mall. Not online. He got his suits from Kornblatt’s Men’s Store on Chicago’s North Side. His shirts were ordered from Belmont Fabrics. But it wasn’t like he went there every few weeks to pick out new things.
He called Kornblatt’s, told them he needed something for an upcoming wedding (the story was always something upcoming) and they had a suit waiting for him in the lobby. In a private fitting room. Mr. Abrams knew his measurements, which cuts looked good on him, which colors he gravitated toward, what fabric irritated his psoriasis. He even wore a tie to my grandfather’s funeral that he bought from Mr. Abrams.
Mind blown? A clothing retailer who actually knew his customers that well? !
Don’t get me wrong. I love shopping online as much as the next guy. Staying in my PJs at midnight clicking “buy” is my idea of a good time. But over the last few years as I’ve put together a mostly minim—I’ve realized that sometimes you just need an expert.
Last summer I had a friend’s wedding to attend. A black tie wedding in which my wedding clothes were something called a rental tuxedo. And if you’ve ever worn a rental tuxedo you know where this is going: they fit like ass. There’s only so much inexpensivematerial they can work with and it shows. So when I was in Atlanta for work last year I decided to see if there was anything worth trying locally and popped into H. Stockton.
Game. Freaking. Changed.
Hamilton, the salesman who helped me, had been working there for 27 years. He didn’t just pull tuxedos off the rack based on my height. He asked where the wedding was, what time it started, who I was sitting with, if it was going to be cold or hot that time of year. He took actual measurements (not just my collar size and height and pant inseam). The jacket on the tuxedo I ended up purchasing fit better off the rack than many custom-made suits I’ve had made online. He wasn’t upselling me on accessories but recommending ones he knew would work well.
Walking out of there I felt like I had discovered some secret that everyone else forgets to talk about. Like maybe this is how tailoring used to be? Maybe this is what we sacrificed for algorithms and Prime shipping?
Ever since then I’ve been on a mission to find these stores everywhere I go. Let’s call it dark pattern prevention for shopping. Instead of buying crap from a hundred different outlets, why not find three or four that are fantastic and build relationships with them? Turns out there are still stores out there that think like Mr. Abrams!
Stop #1 was O’Connell’s in Buffalo. The Wood family has been in business since 1959 and holy crap the nostalgia. If you love classic American style and it’s fading manufacturers like Bonobos and Ironandwine are not replacing—you’ll feel right at home here. Built suits, sports coats, pants, casual shirts, the works. You won’t find cutting edge style here, but you will find things like American-made sack suits and oxford shirts that actually roll their collars right.
But what really sold me was watching them interact with regular customers. They remembered things going beyond size (“How did you like that sweater we picked out for you last time?”) They remembered previous purchases, how people’s styles have changed as they’ve aged. One salesman noticed that the colors I tend to buy are pretty cool-toned and asked if I should consider some warm colors to balance it out. None of the default sales pitches you get everywhere else.
Hell I even sent my dad there for a Father’s Day present and he fell in love.
But let’s get back to shopping. I asked about buying some summer pants and instead of pointing me to the rack he asked questions. What colors do you own already? How do you tend to wear your summer pants? Do you prefer more traditional cuts or lower rise?
He wasn’t just going through the motions to make a sale. He actually wanted to learn what I needed so he could help guide me to the right decision.
This is the anti-decision fatigue.
Instead of browsing online aimlessly for hours or searching through endless racks alone in department stores, what if you had someone who actually knew what they were talking about helping you make decisions? Someone who could guide you towards the right products, steer you away from the wrong ones?
Clothiers.
Cable Car Clothiers in San Francisco was another eye-opener for me. There was an elderly man in the store getting fitted for a hat. Hats! Hats are easy. You get your head measured and pick the style and you’re done. But instead of some kid guessing at whether your head is an XXL or a XXXL like everywhere else the owner spent nearly an hour with this man. How was he planning on wearing it? With what clothes? For what occasions? The patience he showed this guy was insane. This was about getting it right, not just making a sale.
The final piece of this puzzle clicked when I visited The Andover Shop in Cambridge recently. I was indecisive about a sport coat and the salesman Larry actually told me to go take a walk around Harvard Square and think about it more. “If you decide it’s what you want we’ll still have it,” he said. “I’d rather you walk out happy than make a decision you’ll regret.”
What retailer talks like that to customers?! Who tells you to think about buying their product and then walk away instead of squeezing every last second of selling opportunity out of you? But that’s the culture at these stores. They’re looking out for your best interests as a client for the long term instead of worrying about getting you to say “yes” today.
I’ve since visited maybe a dozen of these stores myself across the country. Optimo Hats in Chicago (they gave me an impromptu lesson on hat construction even though I was only there to interview them for this article). Banna Hats in Richmond. Paul Stuart in Chicago. Taylor in NYC. Taylor Levavanaugh in Baltimore. Ohman in Boston. Each one has this same mentality ingrained in their business. They aren’t just selling you clothes, they’re curating how you present yourself to the world.
Except, they’re dying.
Seriously. Stop reading for a second and google “ vintage clothing stores closing.” Welcome to 2018.
Clothing retail has never been easy. High rent. Crazy markups just to employ experienced staff. Competing against online retailers who don’t have brick and mortar overhead. I’ve watched stores close left and right just since I started putting together this list. Some of these places have been in business for more than eighty years!
The ones that are surviving are getting creative. Instagram to educate and build relationships with customers. Casualwear additions to appeal to Millennial customers. Made-to-measure programs to compete with online custom options.
But the thing they all have in common is that dedication to service. Real knowledge of how garments are constructed and should fit. Understanding of appropriate dress for work and social functions. Interest in helping you cultivate your personal style rather than just peddling what’s fashionable that week.
If you’ve put any thought into a capsule wardrobe or intentional styling these dudes are invaluable. When you’re shopping minimally every single purchase has to be perfect. You can’t afford to make mistakes. You don’t want to be saddled with things you never wear because you bought on a whim. Having someone who knows clothing and fit inside and out to guide your decision? Priceless.
My most recent adventure was Paul Stuart in Chicago. I had about an hour between meetings and stopped in to see what they currently stocked. When I told the salesman Mark that I wasn’t really shopping he looked at me wearing and said “okay, let me show you what I think you’ll find interesting based on what you have on.” He walked me around and showed me things that actually coordinated with what I liked wearing, asked me about my preferences, even wrote down notes to remember what we talked about when I came back to reorder. Was I going to buy anything? Probably not. Did I want to come back and shop with him in the future? Absolutely.
That, my friends, is relationship-building, not transactional optimization.
Will these stores work for everyone? Fuck no. This is way more effort than buying everything online. But if you’ve never experienced quality men’s clothing retail you have no idea what you’re missing. The difference between being sold shit that “works” and being properly dressed is night and day.
Especially if you’re trying to build a capsule wardrobe or, hell, just trying to dress yourself with any intention. The stakes are so much higher when you’re buying less that you absolutely need people who know what they’re talking about in your corner. Not Sales Guy at Banana Republic who’s Google-searching how to fit your body type right now.
Finding stores like this takes legwork. Odds are you’ll only find them at independently owned stores that have existed for decades either downtown or in established neighborhoods. The fact that they’ve survived this long usually means they know a thing or two about what they’re doing. But when you find them be honest with them about what you need and your budget. Tell them you’re looking to build a relationship, you’re not just coming in to make a single purchase.
My grandfather and Mr. Abrams had a 40-year relationship. Most people don’t have time for that level of commitment anymore. But we can still support the businesses that have adopted the best parts of that older model of retail. You’ll make better purchases. You’ll have more confidence in how you look. And who knows? You might just learn how to dress yourself along the way.
…also when you’re trying to buy less but better, having that expert guidance can really help. If every single thing you own needs to coordinate with everything else in your closet and you have enough to get by you can’t afford to guess. Trust me, you’ll need experts in your life.
