Designers bring craftsmanship to streetwear

When men talk about craftsmanship in clothing, they usually mean tailoring or work clothes. But for the past decade or so, menswear has been dominated by that amorphous, novelty-obsessed category known as ‘streetwear’, which focuses less on the making of the clothes and more on design, logos and branding. hype.

However, for those who favor craftsmanship, the choice between costumes and sweatshirts is wrong. You might be ready to skip the Travis Scott / McDonald’s sweatshirt collaboration, but that doesn’t mean you have to dress like an extra. Peaky blinders.

Today, a new generation of designers and designers are bringing an artisan sensibility to casual wear. They built their brands slowly, with a commitment to using recycled or natural textiles, and long-term connections with (and fair wages for) the people whose hands sew.

Perhaps the largest of the three is the New York-based 18 East, led by Antonio Ciongoli, the former creative director of the Isaia Eidos sub-brand. I met him in August in the studio-office-store of the Elizabeth Street brand, which still bears the signage of the former occupant of the space, the Ming Beauty Salon. On the shelves were baggy camp shirts and loose pants rendered in nubbly textures or hand-blocked fabrics, goofy color combinations and quirky graphic tees – all carried away in the deeply carefree way of skateboarders. .

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Many of 18 East’s clothes are made in India, where Ciongoli traveled in 2016 and discovered the rich textile heritage of the region. Ciongoli was impressed with artisans who used pre-industrial techniques: textiles woven on hand looms and printed blocks that created irregular and unique garments that a machine could never duplicate.

Their goal is to “ share Mexico’s incredibly rich heritage while providing a platform for the work of artisans to shine ”

At the time, he was feeling creatively retarded and tired of wholesaling, so he decided to create a direct-to-consumer brand that could deliver better value and create things closer to his lifestyle: clothes you can skate in, ”Ciongoli said,“ and then that ball of craft curves. “

The perfect encapsulation of this philosophy is the popular Studio Double Knee Pants from 18 East, crafted last season in an olive cotton ripstop with wavy Rajasthani quilting on the knee panels. An upscale yet affordable homage to a pair of Carhartt painters, the $ 145 pant combines utility and eccentricity, elevating a simple garment. Be warned though: the last time they were released they sold out within hours.

“We’ve actually gotten some negative feedback about it, like, ‘Oh, you’re trying to be that cool streetwear brand where everything sells so fast,’” Ciongoli told me. He doesn’t want the brand to become another Supreme or Palace, intentionally limiting the offering to create the illusion of value.

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“For us, it’s just about trying to be responsible for the way you post things. . . Making 50 sweatshirts that are just white with the logo on it is not the same as making 50 by hand, ”Ciongoli said. He grabbed a terra-cotta-colored fleece hoodie with a turquoise trim, custom-made from recycled heavy-pile sherpa. “This fabric is a limited quantity,” he continued. “And that’s a real limit, not an artificial constraint.”

Likewise, Graziano and Gutiérrez, who specialize in casual versions of West Coast cool, embrace the idea of ​​releasing clothes in small batches. Founded in 2018 by Alejandro Gutiérrez and Samuel Graziano as part of a thesis project at the University of Cincinnati College of Design, the brand places craftsmanship at the heart of the design process by working directly with artisans based in Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca and San Andrés Larráinzar, Chiapas.

People would be more satisfied to enjoy one thing without feeling like they are in a rush to find the next thing.

These weavers traditionally make rugs, tablecloths, and other linens from locally dyed hemp and cotton, but during a research trip to the Yucatán Peninsula in 2017, Graziano and Gutiérrez realized that the richly textured fabric would make fantastic shirts, pants and jackets. From Mexico, the fabric is shipped to Portland, Oregon, where Guetiérrez cuts and sews by hand. Customers can purchase from the medium of one of their seasonal capsule collections or order something personalized – down to the particular fabric pattern – knowing that much of their money is going to pay the salaries of people who made it. The brand’s goal is to “create pieces to preserve, honor and share Mexico’s incredibly rich heritage while providing a platform for the work of artisans to shine.

Like Graziano and Gutiérrez, Pentimento is also a small business, so small it’s based in owner Tim Haught’s Atlanta basement. Specializing in bomber jackets and square-cut Hawaiian shirts, Pentimento uses only found clothing and recycled fabrics to create colorful, unique or limited edition pieces, often with quilting and patchwork effects. On a FaceTime tour in August, I could see shelves stacked with fabric bolts, vintage sewing kits filled with old buttons and threads, and shelves of thrift stores.

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Haught never planned to be a “designer”. He learned to sew from his grandmother. He spent a few years practicing watching YouTube videos, and now sells most of his work directly through his brand. website.

Haught approaches his plans from a deeply anti-capitalist perspective: he doesn’t want to add more waste to the world, has no intention of hiring an employee, and won’t increase his prices beyond what he needs for live.

“Just buying indiscriminately is so stupid,” he says. “I think people would be more satisfied to just enjoy one thing without feeling like they’re in a rush to find the next thing.

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