There’s a guy I see at every menswear meetup I attend in Chicago. He wears what I can only describe as the full Burberry experience. Cheque shirt.
Cheque scarf. Cheque trousers. Once I even spotted matching cheque socks.
I’m not even exaggerating that last part. Alex and I made the obligatory jokes about calling him “Walking Advertisement.” We are terrible people.
But encountering that human string quartet of egregious branding made me realise I was on a path to becoming his dull dress-wearing doppelganger.
It happened slowly. When I got into style three years ago, I knew British luxury meant certain things. Burberry, first and foremost.
Maybe Church’s shoes if I was feeling frisky. Telling people you like British brands because you own a Beatles album isn’t wrong. But it’s like only listening to Hey Jude on repeat.
The point is I spent way too much money to figure that out. … When I started getting into menswear I bought my first “investment” piece. It was a Burberry trench that retailed for more money than I care to admit.
I still love the coat. It’s easily my most worn piece come autumn/winter. But buying that coat felt more like checking a box than cultivating my style.
The Instagram post I made of it likely had some overwritten caption about “timeless British style.” The minute I pressed post I felt like a phony. That coat taught me one very valuable lesson though. Pricey and well-made does not necessarily mean it’s you.
Thinking it was solidified when I met James… James is a colleague of mine who works in luxury retail. We met at a menswear meetup last year and quickly bonded over British tailoring.
If there’s anyone who could have opened my eyes to the world of things that aren’t sunglass-logo-printed-on garments, it was him. We were having a conversation about brand buying and he looked at my obviously designer full-grain wardrobe and said, “The best British luxury kind of whispers.” He then proceeded to fill me on all these British brands I didn’t know existed. Cue forehead-smacking moment here.
Let’s start at the beginning… Ettinger Ettinger makes leather goods that are about as subtle as my girlfriend’s foot game on the dating apps. But they also made me rethink the way I approached accessories.
I purchased one of their card holders roughly eighteen months ago after hearing James go on and on about bridle hide leather. At $180 I honestly thought I was getting ripped off for something to store my cards. Yet here I am a year and a half later, and that mother-of-all-card-holders only looks better with time.
The leather has developed a rich patina from handling that truly tells a story when you use it. My old Coach wallet I bought in college looked abused after a year. This Ettinger card holder looks distinguished.
Lesson learned. … Ettinger is subtle in its own way. There are no giant logo embossed cowhide wallets here.
Simple flat tabs in place of shiny brand stamped rings. Great materials and construction throughout. They hold a Royal Warrant, meaning the Queen (King Charles, we know) actually entrusted them to make things on his behalf.
But you won’t see flashing JWHTGTBS over everything they sell. It’s one of those if you know, you know situations. … Tanner Krolle Ettinger is where my British lifestyle journey truly began.
But Tanner Krolle was the first brand that popped up while I was researching. Specifically looking for weekend bags. Guys that knew their stuff were name dropping TK constantly in forum posts.
Started in 1856. Stuff Kennedy wore. Order of the Queen’s/King’s bench.
If you’re thinking, “These guys have the pedigree,” you’d be right. But they’re also making some seriously unbelievable pieces that feel nowhere near their price point. I was lucky enough to actually feel a Tanner Krolle piece at a trunk show last year.
The attention to detail is what stuck with me. Everything from how thick the leather felt compared to other brands I tried on to how substantial the hardware looked. Even the stitching detail seemed like someone actually cared if it was perfect or not.
The whole kit and caboodle. Needless to say, I’ve been saving up for one of their weekend bags since. We’re talking big money, too.
The bags start around $2,000 and climb from there. Again, not a small purchase by any means. But I felt that same happiness in my chest feeling the quality of their products that I had when I first tried on that Ettinger wallet. …
Gaziano & Girling Knockwear? Fellmongers? Head cementers?
These British shoemakers have entire jobs dedicated to making the perfect pair of shoes. Gone are the days where I’m talking about Italian craftsmen exclusively. There’s a reason British shoemaking is experiencing a renaissance that few outsiders seem to notice.
G & G were the first brand that blew my mind when I started looking into British makers. Started in 2006, which isn’t THAT young in the grand scheme of things but new enough to be doing some really cool things with leather and shoe construction. I watched a documentary on their factory in Kettering and it was meditative.
Every task performed by hand. Patterns refined over decades. Finishing techniques that take artisans hours on each individual pair.
Once you watch that video, there’s no going back. I still can’t afford Gaziano & Girling shoes ( theirs start at $1,500), but I did cave and purchase a pair of boots from Crockett & Jones last winter and haven’t looked back since. Skys in Blenheim are hands down the best shoe decision I’ve made in a long time.
The pattern is stunning and these things have lasted me through Chicago winters better than any shoe I can remember owning. The leather has developed this deep shine from regular maintenance. Makes me feel like I actually know what I’m doing when I walk into a meeting.
Which is more value than I initially thought I’d get. … Fun fact about quality British shoes – they actually get better with wear. I owned a pair of Cole Haans that looked worn out after six months.
These bad boys look better with every outing. It’s like they were aging into form or something. Which is the goal with an investment piece if I’ve learned anything. …
Crockett & Jones Where shoes are concerned, C&J really popped my knitwear cherry. British cashmere brand Corgi blew my mind when I first came across them. Started in 2014, these guys are breaking the rules of what I thought knitwear could be.
Bought a cardigan last autumn in classic navy. Nothing too fancy. But damn does it feel like I’m wearing a blanket versus most lightweight cashmere I’ve worn before.
After eight months of regular wear and numerous trips through my laundry-skills washing machine, it still looks impeccable. There’s an attention to detail you can only get from being hand finished. To me that’s what sets these guys apart.
How that collar lays. The way they sew on buttons. Hell, even their cable pattern stitches are somehow more precise than others.
All-American brand supporting feelings aside, they also happen to be Welsh which makes me enjoy throwing my money at them even more. Johnstons of Elgin Another brand that popped up on repeat while researching British knitwear options was Johnstons of Elgin. Seriously everyone knows the house brand they sell to famous Italian luxury fashion families but rarely talk about themselves.
Again, James enlightened me like a British brandishing Bill Nye with this metaphor about purchasing a Scarpa from Armani versus buying one directly from Johnstons. Same high-quality cashmere for way less by cutting out the middle man. Costs you roughly $800 versus $250.
Still a crazy markup, but when you’re actually feeling the quality it makes sense. Bought their sublime Aran-weight scarf for my dad last Christmas and within five minutes of wearing it he asked where I had found it. Wears it religiously since then and says it’s the warmest thing he owns.
Who knew cashmere could actually be so functional? I thought it was just for looks. Drake’s British tailoring is where things got really interesting to me.
Aside from the well-known/big ticket Savile Row names that I’ll never be able to afford anyway, there’s a slew of other British companies doing really neat things with tailoring but with a more modern edge. Private White caught my attention because they make outerwear at a factory that’s been in operation since 1853. Jacket materials ranging from twills to those insane Ventile cotton pieces made using fabric originally developed for RAF pilots during WWII.
Right in my wheelhouse if there ever was one. Functional with a great story attached to it. … I bought their Twin Track jacket about half a year ago and it’s become my go-to when I need a jacket to wear.
Looks sharp enough to get away with wearing in the office but technical enough to actually protect me from the elements here in Chicago. The cut is loose without being too baggy. Seems like they took traditional British tailoring and refined it for people who don’t live in Downton Abbey. …
Blink & Brilliance Wasn’t really into ties until I discovered Drake’s. Seriously helped shape the way I wanted to approach my everyday wardrobe. Focused on timeless classics without trying to feel too old or stuffy.
That navy blazer I mentioned earlier actually came from Drake’s and it perfectly encapsulates that Grey Area between professional and weekend-worthy they’re going for. Sharp enough to wear to client meetings but not feel like I’m wearing a suit. Casual enough to throw on for drinks after work.
They’ve since evolved into more of a lifestyle brand that has you covered from head-to-toe. Which is awesome because now I can quit shopping at J.Crew completely. … Sheaffer Blue Another accessory brand that blew my mind was British umbrella company Sheaffer Blue.
Who knew something as simple as an umbrella could change your life? Okay strolling down that unhealthy emotional attachment-to-an-object hill with a sports car, but hear me out. These aren’t your $15 Target specials that you hope don’t break after the first storm.
Handmade in England using materials like burnished chestnut wood handles to waxed cotton canopies. Designed to be repaired, not replaced. Mind = blown.
Here in America we’re so used to disposable everything that the concept of buying something to truly last feels foreign. My girlfriend bought me one for my birthday last summer and it is the first umbrella I’ve ever tried to NOT lose. Literally spells Aside from actually functioning better than cheap Chinese umbrellas ( holds rank in wind.
Covers you properly. Doesn’t invert itself during serious weather) there’s something immensely satisfying about carrying an umbrella that was built to last decades, not survive until you get home. … Bremont Let’s talk British watches.
Bremont is the Jeep Wrangler of mechanical watches. Leading the charge are these guys. Not only do they make incredible timepieces, they have actual Aviation roots to back up their brand.
Again gives them personality rather than relying on invented heritage like a lot of watch companies lean on. Hands on their newest ALT1-C model at their boutique when I was in London last summer and almost talked myself into watch debt. They were truly THAT good.
If Bremont will burst your bank, cheque out AnOrdain. A Glasgow-based watchmaker with a very cool take on British watches. They use vitreous enamel to make their dials using an ancient process that is basically extinct.
Each dial takes days to produce with a high likelihood of ruining the piece and having to start from scratch. Colorations that you literally can’t achieve with modern manufacturing techniques. I’m seriously eyeballing one of their watches for my next birthday. expensive yes but compared to Swiss watches of similar quality, the British guys offer incredible value.
Something about knowing you’re supporting guys that make things more for pride than profitchecks is enough to make me pull the trigger. … Lessons I learned: The common thread with all of these brands is they focus on substance over hype. They don’t have the marketing budget to pay celebrities to wear their stuff or stage elaborate fashion shows.
Instead what they offer you as a consumer are things made to last. Independently owned in almost all cases. Meaning their decisions aren’t dictated by shareholder profits but by what’s best for the longevity of their company.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re not charities either. Businesses still need to turn a profit! But there seems to be a different level of care when you’re building something to last for generations, rather than just until the next quarterly report.
It’s something you can’t quite put your finger on at first.
But once you start noticing it, you see it everywhere. How a perfect piece of brass hardware feels in your hands.
How that popped collar naturally falls. Hell, even that certain shade of burgundy that’s not quite red enough to be purple but dark enough that no one calls it brown. … Bottom line is after two years of exploration I buy WAY less but really think about what I’m purchasing.
Dig into the maker rather than just reading off a Rag & Bone price sheet. More than anything I learned that the best British brands are the ones you haven’t heard of. Not ones plastering every Instagram meme page known to mankind.
Don’t become that insufferable bougie scarf guy I see at every single event. We already know you wear fancy trousers, guys. I’m still working on laying off the lectures at home too if we’re being honest.
Girlfriend hates it.
