The Case for Going “Full Thom Browne”
When you read about Thom Browne and his brand’s evolution over the last two decades, there’s one idea that keeps popping up: that the American designer has created a unique, all-encompassing world anchored around an aesthetic that flies in the face of contemporary expectations.
Nowhere is that more obvious than at a Thom Browne fashion show, where, inevitably, one wants to buy a Thom Browne suit. And a Thom Browne shirt. And a tie. And shoes. And socks. But it’s not the fashion show itself that makes you want to wear Thom Browne from head to toe — though the shows are always theatrical — it’s the guests.
Few brands, if any, boast the breed of fervent fans that Thom Browne has — nor are there many brands that are as instantly recognizable, with its droves of acolytes dressed in grey suits and crisply starched shirts.
That design language is central to what makes the cult of Thom Browne so strong. While there are brands that have a signature piece or a signature detail — a catchphrase, if you will — the American designer enjoys a veritable dictionary of instantly recognizable design language and codes. There is, of course, the silhouette of the suit, cut shorter and more square, than any of his contemporaries — revealing both wrists and ankles, with functional button holes and proper two-inch cuffs. Then there’s the colour of the suit: those Thom Browne greys, drawn straight from the heyday of flannel suiting and Madison Avenue advertising executives, that are slightly richer than what anybody else is doing. Surely, it helps that fabric purveyors extraordinaire ZEGNA now own an 85% stake of Thom Browne.
Then, there are the smaller details: the thick starched Oxford cloth shirts, whose luxurious weight makes them an instant favourite after a first wear; that small square label, inspired by the handwritten tags that accompanied bespoke menswear in the ‘50s and ‘60s; the red, white and blue bands that are added as small tabs on the back of suits and shoes, or as strips of grosgrain taping down the placket of shirts; the ever-so-slightly loosened and askew four-in-hand tie.
It’s an impressive sight to see dozens upon dozens of people all clad in what is, ostensibly, the same thing, in the same place. And, yet, they all look unique, despite the uniform approach to dressing. It’s almost as if, paradoxically, each person’s personality and individuality is magnified by Thom Browne’s uniform charcoal suit, a quintessential office staple reimagined as much more than office wear.
For those who wear Thom Browne on a daily basis, that paradox is part of what makes the brand so unique. “It sounds weird because we’re talking about Thom Browne, but [what I love] is that it’s the new version of the traditional suit,” says Vincenzo Guzzo. The entertainment magnate is arguably Canada’s foremost Thom Browne aficionado, proudly decked out in the brand on CBC’s Dragon’s Den and, more often than not, on a day-to-day basis. He’s also right that Thom Browne has managed to infuse the mid-century modern office look with a youthful cool. It’s well-documented that Browne’s aesthetic is greatly inspired by what those around him were wearing when he was growing up in a family of doctors and lawyers in Pennsylvania — safe, conservative menswear.
For Guzzo, elements like the tricolour grosgrain taping and the four bars on sleeves or pants communicate a “no shame approach to fashion” and rejuvenate what should, in theory, be a conservative look.
And then, for Guzzo, there’s the famous short suit that Browne helped popularize. “Believe it or not, I used to do the Bermuda look before he made it really famous, I looked like I had just come off the golf course, but he legitimized it.”
Viranlly Liemana is in near total agreement with Guzzo, when it comes to Browne’s unique ability to inject excitement where boring should reign. “I don’t think anyone has made dressing in uniform, exclusively shades of grey, this sexy and exciting for a very long time, or maybe ever,” he says. Liemana is a social strategist and digital creator who, like Guzzo, is an admitted and unabashed fan of Thom Browne. And, like Guzzo, he points to the details as foundational elements of the Thom Browne mythology. "The grosgrain, the four bars on the left arm or leg, the two and a half-inch cuff,” he says, but also, “the way he picks the material and the way the fabric drapes.”
There are plenty of brands in the world that make objectively good clothes, with good fabrics and flattering cuts, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find any that look as good as Thom Browne when worn head-to-toe.
What’s usually such a hard feat appears effortless for those who opt to do it in the brand’s tell-tale greys. For Guzzo, it comes back to the idea of the American designer having created a world unto itself; a world where everything is made to work together.
For starters, Guzzo says that “the grey is the same grey,” when talking of Browne’s fabrics — which have long been sourced from Zegna, even before they purchased a stake in the brand — from season to season. “I don’t have to worry about a jacket and pants not matching,” he says, “even if it’s not sold as a suit.” More importantly, though, “you can actually play around with the pieces,” Guzzo explains, “because the pieces are made to go with one another.”
Liemana echoes that sentiment almost word for word. “It's done so meticulously,” he says “that each Thom Browne piece will work effortlessly with another, no matter what season they come from,” giving people the flexibility to mix and match, or pull from both the past and present.
Once again, it’s that paradox of Thom Browne: pieces inspired by a bygone era that somehow have a modern edge to them; separates that can be mixed and matched to create suits, or suits that can be broken down and worn with separates or used to create new suits; but above all else, the greatest paradox remains that it’s uniform dressing that brings out the wearer’s individuality.
The Thom Browne wardrobe is large and varied — charcoal and navy tailoring, colourful and textured knitwear, wools and seersuckers, playful embroideries, sober solids and classic shirting. Yet it remains consistent in terms of silhouette and detailing. It’s what makes it so impressive to see so many people who ascribe to the school of Thom Browne in the same place: at first glance, you can tell they’re all wearing the same thing, but when you look closer, they’ve all made it theirs in a unique way. A colourful cardigan — like the ones Guzzo has popularized on Dragon’s Den —, unbuttoned and rolled cuffs, boots instead of classic brogues, shorts instead of trousers, four bars or grosgrain taping at the bicep, a loosened tie or no tie at all, playful whale embroideries on a white shirt.
It looks the same, but it’s different. It looks different but it’s the same. It looks good, whether it’s one piece worn alone, or with the whole five-piece look. It’s instantly recognizable. It’s Thom Browne.
Marc Richardson is a fashion writer and photographer based in Montreal. His work has appeared on Fashionista, Grailed and Garage Magazine.
Photography by Marc Richardson.
