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My Father’s Closet by John Seabrook


February 8, 2014 by Ville Raivio

March 16, 1998, was greeted in The New Yorker’s pages with an article from John Seabrook. He wrote about his father’s large-as-life wardrobe filled with orders from Blades or H. Huntsman on Savile Row, Bernard Weatherhill in New York and A-Man Hing Cheong in Hong Kong, as well as Sulka, Lesserson, Turnbull&Asser for shirts — all in a motorised contraption the like of those only dry-cleaners and sworn dandies own. A button was pushed to see a lifetime of jackets, suits, coats, drape, white tie, black tie, odd vests, Loden, glen plaids and raccoon traverse the walk-in closet in a buzz of beautiful clothing. As a grand finale: the father was seen on leisure in pyjamas or just plain ol’ naked. This, dear reader, was a life well lived.



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Only a beautiful life is worth living.

"If John Bull turns around to look at you, you are not well dressed; but either too stiff, too tight, or too fashionable".
~ Beau Brummell