Stòffa and Minimalism
I visited the store for a brand I love recently. That brought back memories.
I discovered Stòffa fairly early in my menswear journey. Back then, the brand mostly only made outerwear, and only MTO, if I recall correctly. Almost everything was solid, most of the colors were muted, and most of it was drapey. If I had that kind of money, they would have been one of the first brands I bought from. The asymmetric jackets and coats really excited me. I tried both on recently, and it reminded me of how we talked about the brand back then, and how we talk about it now.
Back then, “minimalism” referred to either a Scandinavian minimalist lifestyle and mindset, or, more likely, to a youtube “aesthetic” where your whole wardrobe is a pair of jeans, a pair of olive chinos, four plain white tees, and one blue OCBD. They would all fit in the slim way all youtubers insisted you had to dress, and the upside was that, like Mark Zuckerberg, you wouldn’t have to waste brain power deciding what you were going to wear. (Mark Zuckerberg has since kinda gotten into clothes).
Stòffa was not that. Again, solids and muted colors, for the most part. Textures were smooth and soft. But the silhouettes were exciting. The textiles were drapey, the leather was supple. I’m speaking in the past tense, but on all of these counts, the brand hasn’t changed that much.
What has changed? Our understanding of “minimalism.” And, in fact, I’ll argue, that concept has changed around Stòffa.
The YouTube mindset died. At least among anybody with a modicum of taste, people realized that it was all an attempt to avoid caring about clothing, but the level of obsession made it futile at even that goal. People would scour the earth for the perfect olive chinos, since they could only have one pair, and in the end, they’d get something pretty mid, of course. There was no way for that minimalism to last.
But minimalism is relative. Not every designer show can be avant-garde, or maximalist, or flamboyant. In an ordering of most to least unusual, somebody’s clothing needs to be counted as kind of… normal.
Seeing the niche success of Stòffa and Lemaire, brands like Hermes and Loro Piana followed. New brands, like Auralee and A. Presse were formed in its wake.
Now, there’s a constant discussion about this family of brands; why are men obsessed? Are their clothes really that special? Are they not just boring clothes? What are they doing to demand their prices? Which ones are artists with accessible visions, and which ones are brands trying to milk designer revenue out of their customers without paying for a designer to design clothing or taking any risk that the clothing won’t sell?
I generally think Loro Piana falls into that latter category. I almost never see anything from them that I care about. I do care about their shoes, I think they’re awful. Their quality has dipped significantly, but their prices have certainly not. They have access to the worlds’ greatest raw fiber, and spin so much of it into fine, textureless two-ply yarns. Five thousand dollar tee shirts are a publicity stunt. Openwalks are cloned by real footwear brands for $200 and nobody can tell the difference (although Gstaad Guy pretended he could; it turns out that video was an unmarked advertisement paid for by Loro Piana).
I’ve handled some Auralee in person, and it really is very special. Unique materials, textures, silhouettes. Lemaire clear design vision, as well, and he proves it. He works with Uniqlo. You can buy into his vision for cheap, if you want to. Or, you can go for Lemaire, proper; many people do choose to, because with a higher-end budget per piece, they can do things Uniqlo can’t. I’ve seen clones of their piped loafers; they are not the same.
But this article was supposed to be about Stòffa. Stòffa started in the place all these brands are now aiming for now. They use drape, shape, asymmetry, and that awesome structured collar to stand out with a still-accessible aesthetic. Now, Stòffa makes ready to wear. They make clothing and footwear and all sorts of things that are not outerwear. And they’ve started having fun:
A suede popover shirt, wonton boots, spacedyes. You don’t make this to avoid having a vision. My trip to the store reminded me what I always loved about the brand, and showed me some new things.
I’d recommend a visit, if you’re ever in NYC. It’s one of those open, relatively empty stores; the kind of place where you know you’re going to pay… wait, was that an $1,100 polo just now? Anyway, as I’ve said before, you don’t decide what you love based on price. You decide what you love first, and you figure out how to achieve that aesthetic afterwards. And Stòffa was early on that list for me. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and buy something…
