Five Fits With: Podcaster and Menswear Whisperer Chris Black
I don’t remember when I met Chris Black, but it feels like I’ve known him all my life, and maybe that’s because in a way, I have. At least, the portion of my life in which I figured out who my adult self was becoming. We used to grab lunch frequently when he lived in New York (he's currently based in L.A.), discussing anything and everything from the week’s debauchery to music and restaurants, but probably my favorite pastime was engaging with Chris on something we can both agree on: hating. We’d discuss brands and people that were doing things well, sure, but especially those that were doing it poorly. If you’ve followed Chris online, you’ve seen his extensive and niche set of references, things he prides himself on, and things he’s built a career on. Whether you like his or not, he’s a lesson in taste and the power of beating one’s own drum. There’s no one like Chris, and while he’s an open book, there’s also a vagueness to his digital imprint and what specifically makes him successful.
Below, Chris and I discuss what his company Done to Death Projects actually does, why buying new clothing is corny, and more.
Fit One
I've seen this question asked of you before, but even I couldn't answer it, so let's establish Chris Black for readers. What do you do for a living, and what are some of your current clients?
I'm the co-host of How Long Gone, a podcast I do with my friend Jason Stewart, but I also have a company called Done to Death Projects. We consult with fashion brands on strategy and creative and a little bit of everything. Right now, there’s J. Crew, some Stüssy, a handful of other things. We keep it moving. And I also write. I have a column for New York Magazine’s The Strategist where people ask me questions and I try to answer them nicely. I also contribute to Air Mail pretty often, just about stuff that I'm interested in.
We joked a few times that you might not have five outfits for this, and through humor comes truth. How have you pared your wardrobe down and why?
I don't even know if it's about paring it down. It's about wearing the same thing over and over. I'll pack a giant suitcase for a two-week trip and half of those clothes come back clean. I really only want to wear vintage clothes. That is what I feel the best in, whether it's stuff I've had for a really long time or it's stuff that I'm buying because it speaks to me. The new clothes proposition, unless it's footwear or a special blazer or something formal, it's not as exciting.
Fit Two
What do you think that connection is with the vintage?
I think I am a little bit nostalgic and I look backwards more than I should, probably. If something really speaks to me aesthetically and culturally, then I feel drawn to it. A lot of that comes back to buying a Pet Shop Boys or a Gorilla Biscuits or an REM T-shirt because these are all things that are important to me. A cable knit sweater isn't going to have the same effect. I just think wearing new clothes is corny. I think the thought of wearing an outfit where everything is brand new just doesn't feel cool. It doesn't feel right to me. If I have something I love, I'm going to wear it out. There's stuff I wore today that I've had for a really long time. I have a vintage Hermes tie, but if I see a new Charvet tie that I really like, I'm going to buy that because it's a special occasion kind of thing. If I'm going to get a suit, it's going to be Drake's or it's going to be Our Legacy, because that stuff has to be new. That's where my brain goes. But jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, coats, it's all good—it exists and it's been done right.
As I'm aging, I used to have this thing where I’d get something shiny and new, I'd think, "Alright, I can't really wear this much. I don't want to fuck it up." And as I've gotten older, it’s, "I have to wear my gear. And whatever happens to it, like an oil stain…”
It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. That's the thing. I think that the preciousness is probably what turns me off. I want everything in my life to feel lived in, whether that's the couch you're sitting on or it's a sweatshirt I'm wearing, or it's these shoes I've had for fucking 10 years, I like stuff to feel lived in because it feels like mine.
Fit Three
Where do you get inspiration for creative direction?
All the good stuff, bro. The beauty of aging is that the stuff that you grew up with, whether stylistically and culturally, usually comes back around. The stuff that I was really into in late high school and my early twenties, all of that is back to an extent, whether it's a certain style of photography or a certain style of dressing. I think everybody's wearing a lot of vintage clothes. Everybody's wearing something a little preppy and infusing that with the opposite of that. If you've been doing something long enough, it just comes to you. I know what I like and I'm very sure about that, so when I see something I haven't seen before that speaks to me, I instantly know I like that and catalog that. It's not rocket science. It's just having a point of view.
How about inspiration in terms of your own sense of personal style?
Working with J.Crew has been really interesting because it's having access to all those catalogs and being in those rooms and seeing the stuff. "Oh, this is actually how I want to dress." Because, I've said this before, but when you're in middle school and high school, you rebel against your parents, and I was wearing fucking giant pants and I looked fucking crazy. I remember telling my mom, "I'm going to look like this forever. This is how I look." Now, I basically dress like my dad, or how my mom wanted me to, which is basically Southern preppy. I've put my own spin on it from living in New York for so long and now living in L.A., but I think that that's who I really am, and I think when you accept that, dressing feels more natural. When you accept who you really are and what really inspires you and you don't try to play the game and keep up, that's when it comes off, and I think that's pretty clear to the viewer as well.
That’s what I love about being back in New York, just seeing these fucking freaks walk down the street and look amazing. It's that kind of unconventional beauty and different takes on style that, to me, is really native to New York because it attracts a certain kind of person from all over the world, and there's nothing more inspiring to me than that. That's the problem with L.A. Everybody looks like shit. No one cares. I get it, it's hot and you're in a car. It's a different proposition, but New York is really invigorating and it really helps me do my job.
Fit Four
What are some clothing brands you're into right now and why?
Carter Young's great. He's a young guy from New York. I just met him and instantly thought, "I want to buy whatever you're selling. You have amazing taste. You're wise beyond your years. You're really doing this. You're excited about it. It's infectious." When I was in Stockholm, I met these guys from a tailoring brand called Saman Amel and they blew my mind. I went to their atelier. It was fucking beautiful, just so dialed. They had such great personal style. They were really nice. They were really accommodating to me. They're making me a jacket right now. So cool. Drake's, of course. I wear that stuff all the time and I preach it all the time because I think they're the modern version of what I think I want to wear. When I think about stuff in my head and then I look at their website, they have it. J. Crew. Obviously, I'm biased, but I wear J. Crew a lot and I really like it, and I think [men’s creative director] Brendan [Babenzien] and I have a lot of commonalities when it comes to style and he actually knows how to make really good products, and obviously it's priced well. And then Stüssy, too. Honestly, Stüssy, to me, scratches a certain itch for stuff that might be a little more trendy, but it's so well priced and it lasts a long time and it fits me. It's easy. Our Legacy gets really funky for me sometimes, but when it's a little more pared back, it's really good.
But dude, that Bottega leather shit has me twisted. I want to buy a $7,500 leather flannel. I've never wanted anything more, but I've stopped myself because I know I will never wear that. I worked with Thom Browne for a long time, so I wear a lot of Thom Browne and nothing makes me feel like that. Obviously, a suit makes you feel like something, but when it feels like a uniform and when you're with other people who are wearing it, it's really empowering. When I put that on, I feel like I'm fucking bulletproof. It's a different feeling and it's hard to explain to people because some people think it's extreme, but then when you start wearing it every day, it's really not. It's gray and it's simple. APC is really good, again, and it's nice to see, really simple, really straightforward, really well priced. I also buy a lot of Lemaire. I really like Lemaire. It gets a little flowery sometimes, but I bought three of the same V-neck sweater that they make. And The Row. [My girlfriend] Alex buys me stuff from The Row because that's what she wants me to wear. I got these amazing black leather boat shoes that are just something I didn't realize I was looking for. And then my plane outfit is a pair of The Row pants because they look so nice. They're black, the material's amazing, but they're elastic waist and they have a real fly. They're the perfect pants. I have a raincoat, too. The really simple stuff that they make is really good and absolutely worth the money, I think.
Fit Five
If you had to wear one outfit for the rest of your life, what would it consist of and why?
Navy blue vintage T-shirt, Levi's 505s, JM Weston penny loafers. Honestly, probably that Noah Barbour I'm wearing because it's light and it's not waxed, so it's a little more comfortable. And then the Jacques Marie Mage Dealan sunglasses and maybe a scarf, if it's going to get cold. That's where my mind goes instantly. What more do you need?
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