Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/184554
EMILY SIMS No Junk in this Trunk Our savvy tech writer, Matt Alexander, powers up and reboots with the men's haberdashery online service, Trunk Club. Erin McBriar, Patrick Ware and Tony Medley of WAREhaus Putting One's Haus in Order WAREhaus, 3699 McKinney Ave. in West Village; 214.628.1493; warehausdallas.com Those still quietly mourning the departure of LFT in Victory Park can toss their black armbands. Former buyers for LFT, Patrick Ware and Erin McBriar, have teamed with business manager Tony Medley to open WAREhaus, a repository of effortlessly cool menswear in West Village. "We gave a lot of thought to what's missing in Dallas," Ware says. Filling that void are exclusive lines from Londonbased Percival, So-Cal swagger from Riviera Club and American artisan offerings from Wolf vs. Goat, along with edgy sportswear by Nicholas K, denim from AG Jeans, Dri-Fit dress shirts from Mizzen+Main and, to come, an assortment of vintage accessories. The space has a decidedly residential vibe and includes furniture previously found in each owner's home. ("My mom made the curtains," admits McBriar.) But beyond the inviting atmosphere with its free-flowing bar and "I love that song!" music pumping throughout lies the real draw: the owner-operated customer service, quality-centric offerings and unintimidating appeal of Ware, McBriar and Medley themselves. Amy Adams It's probably about time to confess that — as hard as it is to admit — I've never found it difficult to go clothes shopping for myself, thus making me an exception to one of the old chestnuts of manhood. Perhaps it's my transatlantic upbringing, my excessively extroverted mother or, more likely, a basic comprehension of what it takes to look presentable on a day-to-day basis. I'm really not quite sure. Whatever it may be, I just know that my peers and I have never shared a collective hatred of malls. I suppose I appreciate the catharsis of shopping, but that's not to say that I know how to impart such a feeling of vapid release to other men. Any attempt to articulate the benefits of walking through an airconditioned space for the express goal of spending money is an inevitably pointless endeavor. Fortunately, Trunk Club, a Chicago-area startup, may well have found the solution to this conundrum. Founded in 2009, Trunk Club offers a comfortable and affable environment for even the most shopping-averse man. The business model is akin to that of your typical department store: Trunk Club buys from over 50 brands, offers free personal consultation and salesmanship, and sells the product at a normal retail price. The hook, however, resides in the fact that this interaction takes place from the comfort of your own home. Trunk Club first caught my attention in April 2011, when it made a positive splash in the otherwise hostile tech community. I signed up for the service and, within a matter of hours, received a memorably delightful phone call from Joscelyne Goebel, a personal stylist with the company. We spoke only for ten or 15 minutes, but she managed to quiz me about virtually every relevant aspect of my lifestyle. Several days later, I returned home to find a large box waiting for me. It was filled with a number of shirts, a Billy Fong Sez I was asked to consider the role of a perfect guest this month, along with my take on unique hostess gifts. Immediately, I started thinking about my plan for the upcoming holidays: Everyone on my list is getting Red Lobster gift cards. I just love the fact that they "sea food differently." From there, I pondered dream parties or invitations to chic might host me. What fun it would have been to be invited to Warhol's Montauk compound or, better yet, to score a seat at one of Diane Vreeland's famous dinner parties. Yet, if I had my druthers, these would top my list: ... the perfect gift. Alas, I would probably have a box of crustaceans and a key lime pie from Joe's Stone Crab sent in advance. My own belongings would be packed in a Shelter Serra fake Hermès Birkin bag; Richard Serra's nephew is the conceptual artist du jour, and his recreations of high-end luxury items are pitch perfect and question our current obsessions. Andy Warhol Sofia Coppola Another random suggestion I would bring to the table: Bungalow 8, hosted by two California scions of style: Betsy Bloomingdale and Sofia Coppola. Opt for a falconry glove — amazing and unexpected. If you find yourself invited to one of my I saw a brilliant documentary a few years back that my PaperCity friends must put on their list: The Secret World of Haute Couture. Betsy is interviewed in her Holmby Hills compound that still has green shag carpeting and small closets, not the manses of late. For Betsy, I would bring handmade dominoes I find in Miami's Little Havana. Such old-school craftsmanship is definitely appropriate for a woman who knows the value of parlor games. Miss Coppola would receive a recent piece from the brilliant artist Angela Strassheim. I encountered her work last year at an opening at the amazing Harper Fine Art in NYC. A weekend trip to a villa on Lake Como given by Deeda Blair. selection of jeans, and a pair of John Varvatos shoes that I still wear to this day. I was impressed. It was a strangely liberating feeling to have these items, all specifically chosen for me, delivered to my home for try on at my own pace and discretion. I can report that, just over a year later, I continue to use the service. Joscelyne still e-mails me from time to time to check in on my needs, always enquiring into any changes in my lifestyle that might necessitate amendments in her notes. Her emails are refreshingly amicable, her demeanor emphasizing the value of a personal stylist who's keen to keep you looking your best for whatever life may hold. Specifically targeting men, this model has become extraordinarily competitive over the past 12 months. Birch Box, for instance, offers trial-sized grooming and lifestyle products (everything from T-shirts and socks to collar stays and playing cards) for a monthly fee. Dollar Shave Club, admirably seeking to undercut the monopolistic shaver blade industry, has also launched to overwhelming plaudits from the media. Trunk Club, however, stands well apart from this increasingly crowded market by catering to the individual, whereas its contemporaries tend to focus upon the entire male gender. CEO Brian Spaly and his team side-step the fleeting novelty of receiving a non-specific collection of products or mundane shaver blades by providing a truly personalized experience. Each trunk I've received has included a set of handwritten instructions. The mere act of including a handwritten note, as incidental as it may seem, embosses the strength of the user experience. There is no pressure to purchase and there is equally no threat of me being put-off by a salesperson. It is, simply put, a truly pleasant experience for the gentleman who is able to indulge his deep-seated desire to improve his appearance within a place of security and privacy. And yet, in doing so, he need not forego human interaction altogether, as normally occurs when shopping online. His comfort zone is unharmed, his dignity intact and his wardrobe miraculously full. trunkclub.com. Diana Vreeland, circa 1945 Falconry glove dinner parties, I would love this, since I am hoping my favorite rescue organization (Metroplex Mutts, where I found my new best friend, Theo) will have some falcons up for adoption shortly. Hopefully, our paths will cross this upcoming holiday season, and we won't be walking in with the same gift. Hands off my original idea, the Red Lobster gift card. I plan on giving them out in increments of $25 since you don't want the gift-ee to think you are implying that they have a ravenous appetite. Win-win. Easy on the wallet, and hostess flattering. Billy Fong, billy@papercitymag.com Chateau Marmont The vision of her wearing vintage Chanel in a Chris-Craft while picking up guests who have just landed is to die for. Would I ever be so pedestrian as to show up with scented candles for Miss Blair? I think not. If only Hermès made water wings, I would have Lake Como NOVEMBER | PAGE 10 | 2012 The vision of Deeda wearing vintage Chanel in a Chris-Craft while picking up guests who have just landed is to die for.