Being first is fun, but being last can be legendary (if you’re a samurai, a Mohican, or a starfighter).
Enter Adam Devine and his shamdaisies. Adam snagged the last pair before the shammies entered retirement and he makes them look good (the yacht helps). He’s pals with our CEO, Andy Dunn–who describes Adam with the following pointed adjectives: single and dangerous.
(Did you notice the tail of a navy with white stripes belt coolly accenting this sweet maritime look? Nice touch, Adam. Hmm, I wonder if Bonobos is launching a killer new suite of Italian silk belts anytime soon….)
So what does it mean, exactly, when we retire a style? I’m glad you asked, as this has been a much-discussed topic lately.
For the most part, we’re unable to simply make more pairs of our most popular styles. We obtain our fabric from elite sources in Europe, and often we can only acquire a limited amount of a given fabric. In those situations, we make as many pants as we possibly can with the fabric we have, and when they’re gone, they’re gone forever. However, we are aware of what people want. The success of our khakis has taught us that men demand a comfortable, flattering beige trouser that they can wear to work just as easily as to the bar after work. Even though we are entirely sold out of this style, there is a successor on the horizon–a khakis 2.0, you might say. The same has been true for our congos and mint juleps (whose resurrection has been received with unprecedented exuberance).
See, just because a style is listed as “retired” does not necessarily mean that it’s 100% absolutely positively gone forever, living in Florida off its 401(k) with a trio of sassy post-menopausal gal pals. It simply means that quantities are low, and we won’t be making more anytime soon. Sometimes there are still a handful left on the shelves available for purchase, so peruse the retired style page closely! Never know when you might snag the very last available pair in the free world.
Des Moines may just be the apex of the Bonobos universe.
See, there’s a lot more to the Iowan jewel than French etymology and the Barnstormers. Every four years it hosts the nation’s most consistently and hotly anticipated caucus (and Bonobos is currently holding our own presidential caucus of sorts, with our obamas and mccains). It’s home to the Great Ape Trust, which houses–I kid you not–a colony of eight bonobos.
And, last but not least, it’s the place our Director of Operations Adam Sidney used to call home. It was only natural, then, when we sent our first pair of trousers there a few weeks ago (the jackson brownes), that they’d be welcomed as a harmonious addition to that underrated, kick-ass American city:
Lulled by memories of Roosevelt High and Sec Taylor stadium, Adam replied:
Ben,
Wow, what a great letter to receive. Thanks for taking the time this morning to write and share your thoughts on Bonobos. We definitely plan on being around for a long time.
I’m happy to report that business is great despite the challenging economy, and our customers and investors have helped position us for long-term success. We look forward to serving up awesome trousers, shorts, and belts (and soon dress shirts) for as long as people will buy them. We look forward to doing whatever it takes to keep you as a satisfied customer.
When I saw your order heading to Des Moines, I had to flag it so I could write you a note, myself being a native Des Moinesan. You got the first pair in the Capitol, congrats! Our e-commerce business model means that we can reach trendsetters not only in New York but also Des Moines. Thanks for spreading the word in a city that is a lot cooler than anyone gives it credit for! Thanks again!
Potential Customer: Why oh why is the minimum length of all your trousers 34″? I love the look and style [of your pants] but I don’t want to order trousers when the first thing I have to do is take them to a tailor to have them hemmed. I’m typically a 33 waist and 32 leg. There are a lot of guys like me out there…
It’s true! Our pants come with a longer inseam than what many guys wear. We get this question all the time, though, and I thought it was time that I wrote a blog post on our reasoning. The reason for our long inseams is that no two guys are the same height. Most guys buy a size off the rack (try 33/32) thinking it’s close enough, but end up stepping on their hem and mangling it, or wearing pants that are just a little too short. You know the look, when you cross your legs the pants rise up so that you can see past the top of your socks. No good. Hemming is an extra step, but it’s one that we believe is necessary (and worth it) if you want pants that truly fit correctly.
Also, it’s important to note that our taller customers really appreciate this practice. They’re thrilled that they can finally get pants that are long enough for them! The fact is, it’s easy to shorten pants, but to lengthen them is nearly impossible. We would be doing our taller customers a huge disservice if we shortened our standard inseams. Maybe you need to haggle a little, maybe not, but most dry cleaners should be able to handle this simple hem for under $12. Underneath the Bonobos office in NYC, we get it done for $9. Email us at ninjas at bonobos.com if you need the address.
We also can’t forget, though, that we’re still a very small company and we’re a little limited in terms of what we can offer. Perhaps in the future we’ll have the capability to offer inseams in varying length, but we’re not quite there yet. Think of the SKU complexity! We can only get the same quality fabric in limited quantities right now and we’re able to have many more bonobos in stock as a result of producing them long.
In closing, we hope that you’ll give Bonobos a try–we have the best returns policy on the block, so if you dig everything else about our product, why not give ’em a shot to become your go-to trousers?
Whether we’re globetrotting to source the world’s most exquisite fabrics or road-tripping it to Boston for a trunk show, we’ll go to whatever lengths necessary to get our customers the trousers they crave. (It only occasionally comes down to an Indiana-Jones-outrunning-a-giant-spherical-boulder kind of situation.)
In this case, we were able to track down a rogue pair of the brothers grinn:
The moral of the story: when you’re doing business with Bonobos, never hesitate to let us know what you need.
Now is probably a good time to mention that our awesomely popular brothers grinn are not down for the count, not by a long shot. We have been able to acquire more of that chocolate brown organic cotton, so look for us to replenish our inventory soon!
We’re keeping mum about our political affiliations here at Bonobos–government is serious business, after all, and pants are just plain fun.
By which I mean to say: We had nothing to do with the obamas selling like hotcakes and the mccains selling like tepidcakes. That was all you. Before long the trouser ninjas, who at times have triumphed “Gobama!” were singing a different tune: Nobama! Bonobos giveth and Bonobos taketh away. Or selleth out, as the case may be. And so we feared those bold trousers would part ways with their meteoric namesake and settle into Dukakis-esque obscurity.
We’ve had a change of heart. Specifically, a change of liner. Like the First and Second Continental Congresses–crucial, short-lived, but legendary–that sweet mosaic is no more, but a worthy successor has risen to fill its place. We re-imagined that gorgeous twill trouser in presidential navy with a new liner we call the Hawaiian bandanna. Ocean blue, coconut brown, and sunset rink (that’s red + pink). It’s also a little nod to the state of Barack’s birth.
Even the label sewn inside will tell you: “Born in Hawaii 1961.”
All right, before you write us off as a bunch of granola-munching tepee-dwellers, know that whatever our political proclivities, we definitely acknowledge that the issues America faces are rarely black and white (or blue and red); there are many, many shades of gray (…and purple). It’s fitting, then, as we prepare to reintroduce the obamas and the mccains, that we also launch the clean slates, whose super-soft organic twill belies its battleship gray.
Our arsenal of twill grows stronger. Yours should, too.
Customer service is a state of mind. Let me explain:
I’ve been a New Yorker for six weeks, exactly as long as I’ve been on the Bonobos team. But it took me over a month to find an apartment (I played “musical couches” in the meantime), so even though I’ve settled into certain very New York behaviors—jaywalking with impunity, etc.—I’m still more or less unpacking. I’m still, more or less, a total newbie.
So, last week, when my dearest friend in the whole world (and a beacon of style in her own right) asked if I would accompany her to La Gioconda at the Metropolitan Opera in 48 hours, my mind began to race faster and louder than the cabs shooting up Sixth Avenue at 8:58 in the morning. Most of my clothes are still sequestered in boxes—I think I’ve only got jeans and my capertons—can I wear Doc Martens to the Met?—of course I can’t, what the hell am I thinking?WHAT AM I GOING WEAR?
Eventually it became clear to me that even if I managed to unpack and organize my closet in time, I would come up short. I’m not in college anymore. Jeans and a hoodie can no longer be my go-to look, the outfit du jour. (Nor should it be for anyone whose daily schedule doesn’t include a round of ultimate frisbee in the quad or a kegger in the dorms.) That awkward, rumpled, I’m-swimming-in-my-button-down-and-this-tie-used-to-be-my-dad’s approach to formal wear would be, thenceforth, unacceptable. It was time to up my game.
I marched into Bonobos HQ the next day (T-minus 36 hours from my debut at the Met), approached Brian Spaly at his desk, and asked him for help. He’s awesome at putting together a look and often helps the team (and our customers) rock their bonobos as hard as they can. “Invest in a few versatile staples,” he advised—like dark brown loafers and a navy blazer. Look for a good value but don’t skimp on quality. For the most part, labels are unimportant. How much you pay for an item takes a backseat to the fit–you will always look good in clothes that fit, regardless of “who” you are wearing, so let that be your guide. For the Met, he told me not to feel obligated to wear a jacket and tie–a clean and elegant dress shirt or sweater would be fine. It may have a black-tie reputation, but the opera is meant, fundamentally, to be entertainment. Comfort’s got to play a role in the theatergoer’s attire (not to mention that La Gioconda is four hours long).
Back at my desk, I considered the gorgeous black trousers Kevin Kelleher had just picked up from our manufacturer in the garment district, twenty blocks north of our HQ. Kevin’s a Production and Operations ninja here at Bonobos, a former D1 footballer, and the trousers in question–jet black, with a slender, graceful drape–were named in part after his favorite adjective: savage.
Two realizations came at once: 1) I was over-thinking this opera outfit. Brian was right: I didn’t need to reinvent the wheel, just take a clean look and make sure everything fit well; and 2) I was way overdue in using my employee discount. A look began coming together in my head. I made one of the inaugural purchases of the savage, and later that evening I made two more strategic upgrades to my wardrobe: sleek, side-zip dress boots and a crisp, well-fitted dress shirt white as the leblons. I figured I’d top the outfit off with my pinstripe Banana Republic blazer, take it to the next level with a gray silk pocket square, and off I’d go.
The Bonobos team had other plans.
I arrived at HQ the next day, garment bag slung over my arm and pep in my step, to find a luxurious velvet blazer from Theory draped over my chair. It was Spaly’s, and after a quick try-on to confirm that it fit nicely, he offered to lend it to me for the night. It was all I could do to say thanks without drooling on that gorgeous garment.
As afternoon sidled up to evening, I made the transformation: Jeans into savage. Sneakers into sleek laceless boots. T-shirt into snow-white Calvin Klein poplin. My tired-but-workable blazer into a velvet number that blew it out of the water. The only problem: the ensemble had a new weak link. My pale gray pocket square, while sufficient, lacked that certain Bonobos panache. Kevin Kelleher to the rescue–he snatched a swatch of silk from our cutting table, yellow swirled with ecru and gray. Although previously accustomed to leveling running backs trying to find a breakaway, Kevin deftly folded the silk into a bright crescent that would peek out from the velvety depths of the jacket (Insider’s tip: Look for this same silk to line the g6, a charcoal-hued successor to the g5 reminiscent of the g4!)
I had planned to go without a belt–my bonobos fit like a glove, so I certainly didn’t need one to keep them from falling down, and I liked the idea of showing off our custom-made, Italian nickel hardware. But the guys chimed in, recommending a simple black belt to round out the ensemble. Problem: the only one I had with me was an old, wide thing that lived exclusively in the loops of my favorite broken-in jeans. Our offerings, in Italian tie silk, are beautiful, but not necessarily formal wear. Adam Sidney, indie music connossieur and our Director of Operations, frowned beneath his beard. In a single whip-like motion, he removed his shiny black belt and held it out to me. Best of all, before I could get out a single sentimentalized sentence, Sidney sent me on my way with his own style of encouragement: “Go kick some ass!”
I was dressed more properly and maturely than perhaps ever before in my life, and it changed my outlook on the evening. I noticed a new and exciting strength in my stride and comfort in my conversation. Being thoughtfully dressed, I realized, isn’t about looking fly to stroke your ego. It’s about feeling confident and at ease, freeing you to be attentive to the experiences and individuals that shape your daily (and nightly) experience. In a way (and here I go again, sentimentalizing), working in fashion means we’re in the business of affecting human dignity, and that is a responsibility we cannot take lightly. Which brings me back, finally, to customer service.
As I’ve ruminated on that night at the opera, I’ve concluded that the generosity and enthusiasm I experienced from the whole team would be unlikely to exist for me if I worked at a different company. Turns out, when you commit to making customer satisfaction and service your number one priority, you weave into the fabric of your business model an unequivocal tendency for empathy and helpfulness–and that, for its ability to transcend the buyer/seller dynamic, is something special.
Whether you’re a potential first-time customer or our biggest spender, know that we approach your customer service needs with the mindset that it’s our job to worry about you looking good, not yours. We want you to don your bonobos and venture onward, in pursuit and enjoyment of all the world has to offer.
After all the fun of our previous competitions (name the navy shorts, describe the dark and stormys, and name the stone twills), we’ve decided to lay down another challenge to our awesomely creative customers (and would-be customers alike): name one of our newest styles, to be launched later this week: a new dress trouser in jet-black. Please make your submission as a comment on this post, and please only submit once. Give it some thought, and give it your one best shot.
We were way too helpful in describing the dark and stormys, so here’s all you’ve got to work with this time: the new trousers are black, with a herringbone weave. They are lined in the same black and red tiger-stripe silk as the tiger sharks. Like the mccains, there is no contrasting back-pocket liner. Oh, and the material? I’ve saved the best detail for last: It’s 100% cashmere. We’re going to put them at $275, but rest assured they’d be about three times that at Barney’s or Bloomingdale’s.
To win, you don’t have to submit a name and a description, but know that it can’t hurt your chances (and that after the extreme lengths of writerly restraint I just went through to bring you the above paragraph in simple, declarative sentences, I, for one, look forward to seeing these new and groundbreaking bonobos get a world-class wordsmithing from one of you out there!).
Wondering if it’s worth a shot? Marcus Coe doesn’t appear to have any regrets as he sports his gratis dark and stormys and sips their namesake cocktail.
That’s right, to the winner goes a pair of these pants on the house–our priciest giveaway to date.
Gents, consider the ante upped. Bring your A game.
The fearless and spirited obamas are outselling the stylish but prim mccains by a factor of nearly two-to-one! After a competitive first few days, the obamas took a strong lead and never looked back.
Haven’t yet decided which pair is for you? Go with your gut, but feel free to lean toward the trouser-right to bolster the mccains’ showing–pretty soon you won’t have a choice, since our stock of limited-run obamas is falling faster than the Dow, and like our Congress, Bonobos is flipping a thumbs-down to a bailout. When they’re gone, they’re gone for good.
(Have I forgotten to mention that our flagship navies are soon to be reincarnated once again, in the same super-soft organic twill as the obamas and mccains, but with a bright floral lining? How Alberto Gonzales of me.)
No recount, not this time. No confounded Floridians or cross-eyed chad-counters or Supreme Court justices of conflicted interest who ultimately green-light a panty raid at the electoral college. In the closely watched and hotly debated 2008 trouser race, we’ve just recorded a landslide the likes of which hasn’t occurred in three generations, since Warren G. Harding and the soon-to-be-known-as “Silent Cal” Coolidge laid an electoral smack-down on the democratic Cox-Roosevelt ticket in 1920. (Whatever happened to that FDR kid, anyway?)
Rare it is indeed, my friends, to pull acoelacanthfrom the deep, in direct defiance of extinction, ancient fins a-flapping. Rarer still that said coelacanth should be made of lightweight corduroy. You can imagine my surprise when, while perusing the Bonobos homepage, I stumbled upon my old retired friend. That soft, bosky green swiped from Monet’s lily pads… those winking diamonds stripped off one of Picasso’s jaunty harlequins. How could it be? The mint julep was retired ages ago, never to be loomed, sewn, or hemmed again. It had been placed, had it not, on a pedestal with the pantheon of other legendary, retired trousers from Bonobos’ earliest, most incipient days? The f. scott, the black swan, the whistler… the styles one wept for when pulled from circulation, and pined for once cold reality set in. For as the humpback will tell you in whale song, extinction is forever, and forever is a long, long time.
But alas. Like the coelacanth, the ivory-billed woodpecker, and John Travolta, it seems the trousersmiths at Bonobos have a Lazarus species of their own. The mint julep has returned, to strut and rut and wink again. As it turns out, our old friend mint julep did not go gently into that good night, into the dusty annals of history alongside the hula hoop and the dodo bird. He is alive and well, flopping on deck, gasping for breath with primordial lungs, aching to be worn once more. The mint julep lives! The mint julep lives!
From the great continuum of human feuds (Capulets vs. Montagues, Whigs vs. Tories, Lindsay vs. Paris) emerges an historic slug-fest: Bam vs. Mac. Bonobos is proud to enter the fray.
In the late eighteenth century the working class of France, with fire in their eyes, gumption in their blood, and dirt under their fingernails, began a stirring that would eventually deliver the nation from monarchism to democracy. The aristocrats—in their fashionable, frilly silk breeches—looked down upon these free thinkers and their full-length, utilitarian trousers. They mockingly dubbed the revolutionaries sans-culottes, or “without knee-breeches.” In the end, all the dandily appointed silk in the world couldn’t halt the guillotine’s dispassionate dispatchment.
Which is to say: the launch of our newest trousers, the obamas and the mccains, is not the first time politics has crossed paths with pants.
We set out to craft a worthy successor to our awesome midnight blues—a John Quincy Adams of trousers, if you will. We acquired super-soft cotton twill from our favorite mill in Belgium (one of the finest in the world), and the fabric’s deep, presidential navy spoke to us.
Channeling Republican candidate John McCain’s unshakeable individualism, our designer, Brian Spaly—triathlete, heartthrob, and nautical accessories guru—lined one batch of these beautiful twills with an indigo pinstripe (the same fabric we use on the outside of our super soakers). There is no contrast stitching on the belt loops of the mccains, and no flashy fabric in the back pockets. It’s the most conservative trouser we could bring ourselves to construct, but it’s still a pair of bonobos, through and through, made with care and pride right here in New York City.
But what of democrat Barack Obama? He is charismatic and distinctive, yet his cynosure does not disabuse us of the faith we have in our own greatness. He dwarfs doubt, heightens hope. Lined in a daring mosaic of blue, brown, and orange, the obamas strive to accomplish the same—to be a beacon of encouragement, a leader by example.
(Don’t worry if your trouser preference doesn’t coincide with your vote. It doesn’t make you a flip-flopper. We advise taking a bipartisan approach and ordering both.)
The battle lines are drawn deep. The pundits are sharpening their hyperbole, Joe Biden is cracking his knuckles, Sarah Palin is checking her makeup, and Bonobos has made some really gorgeous pants. Which pair will serve as executive trouser? That’s for you to determine.
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(Did you notice the tail of a navy with white stripes belt coolly accenting this sweet maritime look? Nice touch, Adam. Hmm, I wonder if Bonobos is launching a killer new suite of Italian silk belts anytime soon….)
