Britches Bespoke D.C. This Week …Don’t Miss It!

 I recently shared the great news about Britches Bespoke, the Mark Rykken—Rick Hindin tasty collaboration. Well I’m happy to report that the Britches Bespoke inaugural trunk show in New York was an outstanding success. I’ll sprinkle in a bit of photo evidence from New York amidst this, my D.C. announcement.

The Britches Bespoke team will be duplicating their tasty purveyance this week here in D.C. If you are within a thousand miles of The Sofitel, then you need to roll in on the Britches Boys this week and witness the sartorial splendor.

And you absolutely don’t need an appointment. However if you want some focused time with Mark Rykken for a bespoke measure-up, then call him at 201-707-3000 or email him at rykken.mark@gmail .com.

             AND IT’S NOT JUST BESPOKE!

Let me be crystal clear about the Britches Bespoke offerings.  If you’ve ever been reluctant to stop by such bespoke soirees for fear of two piece suiting four-thousand dollar starting price points I get it. Why go and gander at things you can’t have, right?

The Britches Bespoke experience is designed to be different. Surely you can still bespeak a four thousand dollar camel hair overcoat with Mark. I did. Years ago before I went bankrupt and LFG had the audacity to want a college education.

But there’s plenty of tasty offerings with MSRP stickers that won’t blanch you or your wallet.  And if you want clothing in lieu of outerwear or sportswear, the Britches Made-to-Measure clothing line starts at price points friendly for the masses yet still preening the fuzzy-diced “this was made just for me” bells and whistles.

The boys will be in a sartorially swathed Sofitel suite at 806 15^th Street N.W.  This Wednesday the 11^th, Thursday the 12^th, and until 12:00 noon on Friday the 13^th. Don’t wait until Friday to go.

And I can’t imagine why in the world you’d want to see me but if you’d like to have a coffee and let me spew Britches Bespoke superlatives at you in person, come by on Friday morning and have a coffee with me. I’ll show you the Britches Bespoke quilted jacket that I’m having Hindin and Rykken cook up for little old ADG.

I hope that the summer weather in your part of the world has been as sublime as ours these last few days. I found the mother lode of raw peanuts yesterday and have been boiling them my a_s off. I’ll have some waiting for you at the Sofitel if you want a little nibble of my favorite southern white trash staple. Shut up.

Onward.

ADG

Britches Bespoke…Clothing for Life

There’s something tasty on the horizon and it’s about damn time!

One of the highlights of 2018 for me so far—other than the got my life back spine surgery—is my new acquaintance with Rick Hindin.  Rick is the co-creator of the inimitable Britches of Georgetowne and he’s as creative and thoughtful and wise as ever. I just want to hang out with him.

And you’ve probably read my tale about Britches of Georgetowne and Ralph’s monochromatic visit one evening. It’s probably my favorite Mark Rykken story. Britches will always rank high in the pantheon of sartorial light houses—leastways for the development of my fuzzy tendencies. I have two white pinpoint oxford dress shirts remaining from my Britches trove. The Astaire model. Longish point collar, ultimately pinnable with my stick thru silver collar pin. The shirts posses patina and the collars sport battle scars of countless joust throughs as I anchored the collar and heightened the visual interest of the tie knot. Shut up.

Britches Bespoke Donegal Country Tweed

Rick retrieved the Britches of Georgetowne brand some time ago and has incubated a really cool new version of Britches. And yes, I’m avoiding the reincarnation cliché. One of the things that I like about Rick is his wariness of too much sentiment. Certainly he’s bringing Britches of Georgetowne insight and panache to the evolving Britches iteration. But really it’s more about the future.

Then there’s my brother Rykken. Mark’s been swathing me for over twenty-five years—both in clothing and friendship. And now the Flusser protégé late of Paul Stuart is back with Hindin and his Britches roots.

Britches Bespoke Inaugural Gray Flannel Tastiness

BritchesBespoke is the Hindin-Rykken first chapter in the contemporary iteration of Britches. There’s more to come over time but Britches Bespoke is the foundational first step.

 This ain’t just a Rebranded Rykken Reboot!

Ok, so Rykken’s doing custom again. Mark’s stalwart D.C. and N.Y.C. customers will surely be pleased to know. Wherever Mark’s been plying his skills and wares over the last decade frankly made no difference. The taste level was always high and the bells, whistles, and for me; the fuzzy-dice options never disappointed. It's a safe bet that the same will hold true for Britches Bespoke. 

Customers have always been assured of getting the highest level of Mark’s talent regardless of the label inside the jacket. I know this firsthand because my closet attests it. And the goods last forever, assuming that you don't double in size. I've been wearing the suit in the above photo for twenty-three years. My closet rack is brimming with suits and jackets that don’t see nearly the wear as they did in years past. Don’t get me going about the slumming of America.

Britches Bespoke Outerwear Tastiness 

So even if you aren’t in the market for a suit or sport jacket, don’t miss the upcoming Britches Bespoke trunk shows. Why? Because the Rykken-Hindin magic only begins with custom clothing. I'm all-in if for no other reason than bespoking a quilted toggle-closure winter coat in my never available midgety a_s size.

The Britches Bespoke and Special Order Shoddings...Solely Worth a Visit

I've spent enough dough with George Cleverley et al and they're not likely to get another dime. And it isn't an understatement for me to say that the Rykken-Hindin footwear lineup means you'll never have to wait on your London cobbler to roll back into the States for your next fitting. 

It’s the other Britches Bespoke offerings that have me most excited.

Donegal and Quilted...Indeed

What's different is that Rick and Mark are offering tasty outerwear, belts, sportswear, bespoke shoes and other goodies that will make Britches Bespoke and their inaugural trunk shows attractive to everyone. 

Knee Level Tweediness

Pop Your Collar in Yellow or Not

When was the last time you saw a knee length car coat that was this tasty? Hell, the tasty meter ain't robust enough to even measure the fuzziness of this Britches Bespoke concoction.

Outerwear Your Way...Customize it until your fuzzy heart's content!

So you need to come and see it for yourself. The promises are big but so are the tasty deliverables!

Regimentals Bold and Beautiful

New York

June 27^th -29^th 9:00am-6:00pm

The Royalton Hotel

44 West 44^th Street

Washington D.C.

July 11^th-13^th 9:00am-6:00pm

Sofitel

806 15^th Street N.W.

Reach out to Mark and let him know you are coming. Rykken.mark@gmail.com I’ll be there and you should too.

Onward,

ADG, II

Saturday Morning--Comfort and Familiarity

When I was a kid it was the barbershop next to the courthouse. Or the little haberdashery where I worked part time. Saturday morning congregants. Liar’s poker. Coffee. Cigars. Guy stuff before any of it became a trend or an affectation. Yep, they smoked cigars on Saturday morning in the men’s shop.

I was never really a part of that congregation. I shaved every morning but to those guys I was still a pup. Plus, I had to straighten stock and begin the never ending task of polishing glass counters and cases. But I would watch ‘em play liar’s poker and listen to the fishing tales and other small town, provincial cocksureties. And the whole pile of it smelled like Bay Rum and Old Spice. Then the half dozen or so poker braggers would disperse and regular commerce began. I liked the regularity of it. Rarely would the attendants vary.

I remember walking down Connecticut Avenue when I first moved to the D.C. area. I happened to glance down Jefferson Place and the Flusser awning caught my eye. My Flusser fanaticism was well established but my Flusser togs inventory was nil. I had his books but hadn’t been able to afford his clothes, save the one horizontal striped dress shirt that I bought in 1988 after driving my ‘84 Jetta like a scalded dog through the Lincoln tunnel on my lunch break. Montclair N.J.to the Flusser atelier at warp speed. Flusser wasn’t there that day which was probably for the best. I had to get back to work. I bought the only horizontal striped shirt they had in my size and it cost half as much as my Jetta was worth.Oh, and I had a few Flusser dress shirts from his ready to wear phase…courtesy of a summer sale at Britches of Georgetown. Otherwise…Nadda.

A Flusser shop in D.C.? I walked over and hit the buzzer. I can remember exactly what I had on because it wasn’t what I’d want to wear to a place like this. Levi’s 501s, a black turtleneck and a navy blue double breasted overcoat. Who gives a shit what kind of shoes I was wearing. So the owner, a guy named Mark Rykken introduced himself. The place and the guy...heady. Mind you, this was amidst the wave of Flussfetish spawned by Gordon Gecko and Wall Street. It was pinstripes and horizontal go-to-hells and I was all-in.

I bought my first suit right then and there. Thirteen hundred bucks. What the flip was I thinking? Double breasted nail-head  The works. All the freakin’ way. Thank you. I remember Rykken tactfully navigating the measurement process, mentioning only once that jeans weren’t the best swathing around which to run a tape measure.Whatever.

That first visit spawned a routine. Saturday mornings. Hanging out. Eyeball deep in bolts of cloth and Apparel Arts books and PKZ posters and gut ends with white tabs. Thurstons. No cigars. No lies. No need for ‘em. And Rykken’s dad would be there sometimes. Retired U.S. Army officer and jazz fanatic. Crusty guy who you’d a loved if you ever met him. And he, rather like the Andover Shop’s Charlie Davidson, had met and known a lot of the jazz names through the years.

Flusser would come down from Gotham from time to time but I was still yet to meet him.It would be a few years later before our paths would cross. Life is rich, no? Rich in that you never know. You never know what these six degrees, kismet,providential, whateverish encounters are gonna hold. How they’ll unfurl. Rykken to this day is one of my best friends in the world. So is Alan. LFG calls Alan...Alanflusser…one word. And she prayed for him one night. Right after she prayed for Obama. Who’d a thunk it?

I miss those Saturday mornings. But D.C. is too much of a company town…a factory village…to appreciate and sustain something as tasty and special as this little townhouse was. I honestly believe that the reason I still have such a dismissive view of D.C. as a town of any élan, style or taste level is because the Flusser townhouse is no longer here. D.C.? Eff ‘em.

It’s been a couple of decades. And all the players in this saga have experienced rich journeys since. Some of us have less hair and our remaining strands are gray. Not all of us register the same metrics on the tape measure but I do. Only because I can’t afford to replace my clothing from the salad days. 

So here’s to Saturday mornings. Coffee and “I’ve got three sevens” lies. And comforting destinations. Familiar nests with friendly congregants. Bay Rum. Flannel and linen. Familiarity.

Onward.From my Alexandria nest. With congregant LFG. No lie.

ADG II

Trad-Ivy Tuesday: When Ralph Came to Britches

David Pensky and Rick Hindin had this idea. And the idea ultimately became Britches of Georgetown. Britches in its heyday was a Washington Trad institution with what I’ll call an experimental edge. At least when the likes of Pensky, Hindin and Rykken were still on board. And for some reason I can’t separate Clyde’s from Britches. Both Georgetown institutions kinda spawned together and there was a time when you could buy cans of Clyde’s chili at Britches. Clyde’s still holds on. Britches is long gone.

I called Britches the Poor Man’s Polo shop. It wasn’t Georgetown University shop nor was it Adler’s or any of the other slowly steeped patinated Trad shops that many of us recollect and long to see again. 

Britches was different. Sure, you could get your fill of Trad-Prep gear at Britches but you could always find things that pushed the Trad-Prep Code to its very outermost limit. And if you know anything about Washington D.C., the Three Button Sack Coat Goofball town that it is sartorially, you know that the outer edge of any style construct is about half an arm’s length away. So the Britches guys were doing cool things in a town full of Sartorial Flatlanders.

So what was it that they did? Pensky-Hindin-Rykken were masters at spotting emerging design talent and showcasing the wares of said up and comers in their Britches stores. Ralph Lauren and a young Alan Flusser come to mind. Britches had Alan’s first ready to wear line in their stores back in the very early 1980’s and the goods were tasty to say the least. I had two or three Flusser rounded collar French cuff dress shirts from that era and they lasted forever. And they were different enough, just fuzzy enough for people to ask you where you got your clothes from. The Britches guys would get in early with a designer and would integrate their offerings in a way that there was always a new look, a design variation or something fresh at Britches. Their offerings swizzle-sticked the standard Trad-Prep cocktail.

And they weren't rip-off artists by any stretch of the imagination. But they did do a great job of offering private label goods that reflected their personal taste level as well as their ability to observe what was emerging and integrate it into their house brand goods. This was also the Britches inventory sweet spot that a starving kid like me could afford—when it was on sale. There was even a suit model at one time called the Rykken, named obviously for the point man who for many years for the guy behind the Britches of Georgetown clothing business…Mark “Puerto” Rykken.

I will never be able to convey this tale like Mark Rykken does. And I’ve asked him like a little kid who admonishes an adult to read the same bedtime story for the eleventh time...to “tell me the Ralph story again, Mark.” But here goes. It was announced to the Britches of Georgetown gang that “We are doing an evening event for Polo and Ralph’s coming.” Now this might have been before Ralph himself became an iconic part of the Polo brand but he was still a God to anyone in the business. 

This was early enough in the Ralph ascendancy for people to still be agog at the rise of this man and his oeuvre. This was still the time when High WASPs were steaming, guffawing and chortling over this lifestyle interloper and appropriator from the Bronx. I’ll leave it right here regarding the Ralph electricity because I don’t want to steal the thunder from another story about when the little Trad shop I worked in finally “got permission” from Ralph to carry the Polo line.

So all of the peacock devotees of Ralph who worked at Britches had about two weeks to churn themselves into an absolute lather about what to wear when Ralph comes. I mean think about it. You are a clothes fanatic and you work in an incubator of great sartorial ideas, angles and offerings. You probably already own enough foppish goods to contrive some kind of “hey Ralph, look at me” statement that will surely lure him directly over to your twenty two year old ass as soon as he walks in the door. And you’ve got one change to get it right.

Rykken tells the story about all the guys just obsessing over what to wear for the Ralph event. After all, if Ralph likes you and likes what you have on, he might even recognize your talent from the get-go and hire you. Interestingly, that’s exactly what happened to the Britches employee who was charged with picking Ralph up at the airport and ferrying him over to Georgetown. That would be one Jeffrey Banks.

So the Britches guys preened and posed and coiffed and accessorized and augmented and foppified themselves to the point of caricature. Puerto Rykken shared that the Polo affectation bordered on hilarity. My mind’s eye sees a gaggle of Beau Brummels on steroids standing around the store awaiting Ralph’s entrance.

And enter he did. In an anti-fop contrivance that was riveting in its simplicity. Rykken said that Ralph crossed Britches’ threshold wearing a light gray flannel suit, white, straight point collar with no pin, a black grenadine tie, white linen pocket square and black monogrammed slippers. All of the Britches Preening Peacocks suddenly found themselves stewing in a broth of chagrined self-awareness.

Surveying the foppish sycophant-entreat of “look at me…look at me” …Ralph the Anti-Fop, just smiled. When Ralph came to Britches.

Onward. And yes I know it’s Wednesday. I’m on vacation. Shut the Fop up.

ADG II