Mike Albo Goes Shopping: Preppy Handbook Edition

Today marks the return of Mike Albo to the now rotating team of writers who have taken over Critical Shopper duties in Thursday Styles from the absent Alex Kuczynski. We don't know why she's gone, or if she's coming back. We don't like being left hanging like this! We simply have to make do with what we can, and while it would be unrealistic, and perhaps cruel to expect anyone else to be as carnival-freak-crazy Alex, thus far, Mike has done better than anyone else at putting his own droll perspective on visiting well-known New York institutions. Last time it was Kiehls, and this week he visits Brooks Brothers at Madison and 44th Street, a veritable icon of all-American retailing. Brooks is believed to be the oldest men's clothier in the United States, and for over a century it was a bastion of tradition and consistency until, as Albo notes, it was purchased by Marks & Spencer in the 90's. Brooks Brothers was the innocent victim of a flurry of retail conglomerate mergers, acquisitions and bankruptcies. M&S decided to impose some distressing modernization on what grown into a major chain, resulting in a sort of Banana Republification on the store that managed to alienate faithful customers without actually attracting many new ones. Retail Brand Alliance, the chain's new owner, has gone to great expense to restore the store's merchandise back to its original quality level and styling concepts, and the main floor is once again awash in classic button down collar dress shirts and foulard ties with classic logos returned to their proper places and even original fixtures exhumed from storage. Cashmere sweaters are once again made in Scotland instead of cheaper China which means that these hefty two ply knits will last pretty much forever, and at $298 for a basic v-neck, ($199 on clearance) remain very well priced for the quality. The Madison Avenue flagship has restored its air of patrician gentility as if the M&S years had never happened. A doorman greets us at the entrance, and the staff is appropriately solicitous at mid-afternoon, though it must be noted that this neighborhood has a unique shopping traffic pattern based on its proximity to Grand Central Terminal. Early morning, after work and lunch are busy times, especially in a store devoted mostly to menswear.

The store's merchants have struck a good balance between the classic pieces you have come to expect like seersucker suits, repp ties, those signature oxford shirts and more contemporary yet classic items like a lightweight canvas pea-coat. Prices are upscale without being extravagant, and the store is once again an excellent resource for the kinds of basics to build a wardrobe with. A rack of coats at end-of-season clearance prices offered an excellent opportunity to invest in a chesterfield, loden or camelhair polo coat that would last for years if not decades. Even among the updated classics, the general styling direction runs more towards country club than nightclub, and the effect is a little on the bland side. While Brooks Brothers is the vanilla ice cream of classics, they still have a few gems worth going out of your way for. The selection of handmade English shoes from Peal & Co., a longtime company exclusive, is broader than ever, and the shoes compare very favorably to more expensive but similar styles up the block at Paul Stuart. Accessories and furnishings are high quality and well priced including a wide array of sized socks, which are not always easy to find. An engine turned sterling silver belt buckle ready to be monogrammed can always be found here, as well as the appropriate alligator strap. Women's has been relegated to the fifth floor in this location, but if you make it up there you will find an elegantly appointed room mostly filled with basic tailored suits geared for work. although a butter yellow silk and linen coat in an engineered basketweave jacquard was more elegant then what we were expecting, if not particularly youthful. But back to Mike, who managed to pick up a blazer and order himself a digitally custom fitted shirt, one of the store's nods to modern technology. He dutifully recounted the story,

[my salesperson] led me to the digital measuring room, a shed-size chamber lined with dark carpeting and two hinged handles affixed on opposite walls. She handed me pair of gray stretch shorts and socks wrapped in cellophane (you get to keep them!) and closed the door.
Mostly nude in my little stretchy outfit, I held on to the handles as flashes of light striped down my body, casting a silhouette on the wall. I was told that the light emissions, which last about 12 seconds, create 200,000 data points that register every curve of your body as if on a giant photocopier. If something went horribly wrong and I emerged with superpowers, I could be fitted for my costume right away.

And this is why you, Mike, are always a welcome substitute, willing to risk molecular alteration, but not obligated to connect it to an irrelevant, yet embarrassing story.

Critical Shopper: Outfitters to Presidents, Preppies, Me by Mike Albo (NYTimes)

Brooks Brothers 346 Madison Avenue, Midtown