Bonobos

Dear Andy, Brian, and Rob:

I was fortunate to take my maiden Bonobos voyage on a fine Friday
afternoon in the Friendly Confines of Wrigley Field. I was a part of
one of the many soon to be inebriated bachelor parties that take to
the world’s finest sporting venue to watch the loveable losers and
take part in the ballyhoo that often accompanies the event. But being
my first game of the year, it was imperative that I attend the game in
style. Still smelling like last night’s bourbon beverages, I stood in
front of my closet scouring it like Lou to a lineup card for the a
shirt to accompany my baseball lined, red stitched, Cubbie Blue
lightweight cords–The Clarks.

Armed with my day old beard and hangover providing an uncanny Piniella
impression, I walked out into the 73 degree Spring Chicago afternoon
and made my way to the bachelor party at the ball park. The Cubs
jumped on Pittsburgh early, their bats making the Pirate staff look as
foolish as Orlando Bloom’s thespian skills in Disney’s three
installments of Pirates of the Caribbean.

After seven innings of Old Style and Budweiser and a comfortable Cubs
lead, my bachelor party compatriots were taking to the neighboring
coeds with as much delicacy and grace as a German panzer division on a
poorly defended Belgian town. It was time to stretch and head over to
the adjacent watering holes. Little did I know a walk down the
Bleacher catwalk and a kingly strut as royal as the hue of my fine
pants to nearby Sheffields (a fitting place for pants called Clarks)
would cause such a raucous. Sporting my Clarks, I was the dapperest
dude in Wrigleyville, garnering the wanton attention of lascivious
ladies and the equal chagrin of jealous males wallowing in their
stonewashed denim misery.

I was a celebrity at the bar. “Where did you get those pants?”, “I
need a pair of those!!” were as frequent as a the “Go Cubs Go” sing a
longs. In my presence, fellow male bar patrons felt as comfortable in
their inferior britches as Steve Bartman in a box seat. Girls
couldn’t help themselves from pinching my fanny–now if this is a
result of their curiosity on the soft feel of the light corduroy or
the look of my posterior as result of the fine craftsmanship of the
Bonobos pant, that remains to be argued.

The day was a complete success. A “W” flag was flapping above the
scoreboard, the Northsiders remained atop the NL Central, my fellow
bachelor party mates were over served, and my bottom looked as if I
had made good use of a spray paint can in a Singapore parking lot.
One may not be able to sport pinstripes within the Brick and Ivied
hallowed grounds of Wrigley, but any fashion conscious, beer drinking,
fun seeking guy can privy himself to the comfort, fit, flair, and
panache of Bonobos.

Warm regards,
Jim Dowd

While I was heading home on the subway one night I looked around the car and thought to myself, why does it look like men are required to wear some combination of blue jeans, khakis, and a blazer? Ok, so in the case of khakis and a blazer it might not be the most professional look to peacock around the office. And jeans are an easy match with that peacock outfit when you head out on the town. But either way, I was ending up feeling bored or like I hadn’t quite finished my college (and post-college) need to shock the town with my wardrobe. Improbably but luckily, this coincided with the first time I bumped into Bonobos proprietor Andy. He and a friend met us at a downtown lounge – Andy in a pair of royal blue cords and Bobby in a pair of neatly tailored white pants with colorful trim – “Pants: Now In Color,” I thought to myself. I was sold.

I picked up three pairs and after a brief run in Manhattan, where I decided I could send the pants out on their own to do the evening’s “work,” it was time to take them on tour. The Shore Club Specials were perfect for New Years Eve in Floripa, where local custom required an all-white ensemble (though the subtle trim on the back pocket gave me a little edge). They were light enough to manage through an oppressively hot South American summer night, but tough enough to endure a Brazilian New Years Eve beach party (I still marvel at what the dry cleaner was able to accomplish). Bonobos’s Mint Juleps attracted just the right amount of attention after a handful of meetings in Las Vegas, without making me look like the hordes of guys pouring out of clubs that probably watched Tyler Durden in Fight Club a few too many times. But my favorites are still the F. Scotts. Maybe because they’re brighter orange than a pumpkin and I start missing Halloween beginning on the first of November. Or maybe because they’re named after the man that penned arguably the best novel ever written. But probably because they feel good and look better.

Thanks, Bonobos, for matching comfort, fit, creativity, and distinction.

- David Levy

In my house, I am more of a clothes-horse than my wife. Even though I’ve worked for non-profits the better part of my life, I’ve always managed to cobble together a wardrobe that I can be proud of. My wife sometimes teases me (I have the walk-in closet in our house) about my love of clothing, but then I have to believe the fact that I take great care about how I look that played into some of the reason why she was attracted to me in the first place.

I do admit, however, that of late, I’ve fallen into a bit of a pants-doldrums. I’ve managed to continue to find well-made and well-fitting tops, but pants, well, my pants were either functional, or they were jeans. Then, through the power of the internet, came Bonobos. When I saw the site, and began to read through, I thought only one thing… how can I get some of those pants?

Reading through the section on fit, I began hoping beyond hope that the claims could be true—could they really fit as well as they said? Dare I even hope?

A quick e-mail later, I found myself in contact with Andy, the CEO & co-founder. Andy’s a pretty chill guy for a CEO, and any CEO dressed to conduct business in a pair of F. Scotts is more than alright in my book. I was overwhelmed at the sheer amount of pants that he showed me. As the company’s first “sponsored athlete,” I really felt like a king.

The colors. The styles. Materials that were oh-so-pleasing to the touch. We’re talking kid-in-a-candy-store vibe, right from the jump. But then came the true test. I tried a pair on. And another… and another. I tried on every pair in my size, and while I walked away with only two, I vowed there would be more to come.

These pants fit so well, and look so good on. My wife loves how good I look in them. For the record, I decided upon the Midnight Blues, because they could do double duty, as pants I could wear for work or play. The second pair, well, that was a much tougher decision, but in the end, I decided on the Pink Panthers, because when else would I be able to buy a pair of pink pants that looked this good? After wearing both pairs, and loving the experience, I decided that the Panthers were just fine for work as well. They bring a certain sartorial edge to casual Fridays.

If you’ve read this and the other testimonials and you still haven’t bought a pair, then my friend, I fear you are beyond hope. There should be another word for Bonobos pants, since they are men’s pants redefined. Retaken. Reimagined. “Pants” somehow seems mundane. You merely function in pants. You live in Bonobos.

- Charles Guerrero

So two of my friends from business school recently started a men’s pants company and I am in love. They started selling these pants while at Stanford and they became the pants to buy — one guy even had all his groomsmen wear them (it was a casual wedding, but cute nonetheless).

These pants do:
• Make boy’s/men’s butts look really, really cute (think the guy equivalent of True Religion jeans)
• Have the perfect combination of real world and edge. They have really fun linings/ inner pockets combined with beautiful, very wearable fabrics (from khakis to twills to cords to wool)
• Allow preppier types to move away from their (pleated) khakis into styles that look hot on them without freaking them out
• Allow more adventurous types to buy the wilder colors, express their individuality, and look hot without freaking everyone else out
• Allow men to own something that other men will covet — most styles are made on a limited basis so when they’re gone, they’re gone
• Come with a 100% return policy, even years later
• Come with heart (from the website): “If you (belong to) any…profession where you’ve chosen to serve rather than to earn as a first priority, then you may qualify for a Bonobos ‘sponsored athlete’ discount… Essentially, we’d like to make our products a bit more affordable for people that have consciously chosen a career that is less lucrative. All you need to do…is to write us a short letter. We aim to accept all applications, and we try to respond within 24 hours.”

These pants do not:
• Cost an arm and a leg. 0 overhead costs = cheaper pants.
• Only look good on men built ‘heroin chic’ (read: uber-skinny). They are actually designed for men with normal and/or athletic bodies. I’ve seen them look good on lots of types.

So check out the Bonobos website — buy a pair or two for yourselves or the men in your lives, try them on, keep or return them. In fact, I just bought a pair of Black Swans for Scott as well as my dad!

- Jenny Heller

Dear Bonobos:

As a husky, formerly very athletic father of five (vintage 10 to 21 years), and with a very attractive and fashion forward wife, I have asked the impossible of pants: to be comfortable and durable (for me) and fashionable (for her, so as not to embarrass the missus at her fashion related fundraising events). I usually hit the Washington, DC default button for high style which is jeans and a blue blazer, but my introduction to the Bonobos portfolio has broadened my fashion horizons considerably since they first rocked my world this past Summer in Nantucket.

Case in point, we were in need of a vacation from a vacation to recover from an ill-advised family trip to Disney World over Christmas and New Year’s (24-7 Disney Hell ensued as I didn’t get the memo that the whole world would be there!). The missus and I decided an emergency parental recovery program was in order and we took off for 5 days to the Caribbean. I packed only the Mint Juleps and they carried me from beach and fishing to bars, restaurants, and of course, Da Conch Shack. The Mints held up splendidly. Comments from both sexes were very favorable, except for one Brit who was initially more concerned about catching fish than the people partying around him. After a heartfelt apology concerning the fish-nanary, our new friend remarked: “Where did you get those pants?”

World Peace will be achieved, one Bonobos pant leg at a time. Upon arrival back to DC, I was treated to a pair of Black Swans in the mail from the missus. All is well at home and I thank Bonobos for the assist.

-Rich Amons

Lovely photograph courtesy of Mary Amons

1) I usually dress like a man trying to go unnoticed, but wearing my Bonobos around has actually fooled a few people into thinking I was hip. Folks are digging the new idea that pants don’t have to fit like crap. The Capertons are the perfect pant to wear to Fenway, normally guys just wear jeans with their Red Sox jerseys but these things are genius.

2) I grew up on Dunkin Donuts, and I don’t want to abandon my roots, even if I may appear a bit “husky” at times. The great thing about my Midnight Blues is nobody has to know about my lacking self-control. They’re so slimming; for all my fiancée knows, I’ve been working out like a fiend and showing discipline at the dinner table.

Okay, my denims are having a tough time adjusting to their new neighbor. But hey, that’s tough because there are some new pants hanging around who are making those jeans nervous for their lack of substance and style. I told them that I would not be replacing them but that “the organization is going in a different direction.” I did not have the heart to tell them that they may not be seeing much playing time. This season, or next.

I am going to need more closet space now. I actually bought two pairs of Black Swans, nervous one might get hit by low-flying sea gull shrapnel at the beach or end up in that place where lost socks go.

First time I slipped on the Bonobos it was like form met substance and style in a secret rendezvous. You know, like a place I had always known existed but had never been? Putting on a pair of F. Scotts, I found myself dancing inside about the fit and the color. Orange. Yep, the orange F. Scotts are as amazing as the sun kissed fruit. These pants are all class and their fit may have you writing a Bonobosgram. I did.

Back in the 1920’s gentlemen were going places. Some fast and some slow. Whether you tried to Gatsby with your last and first dollar or write a great novel, whatever you wore had an understated style and it was made with substance. Come the end of the day you may have put on your Bonobos (if they had only been around) and sat down with F. Scott himself for a few short glasses of aged Inspiration. Your pants fit you right where they were supposed to and they knew it. Your body knew it too. No one was spending millions telling you what you already knew.

Substance is real; it is tangible and not ethereal (like the prices of some of the fancy labels in my closet). Some of us cannot fly to Milan this weekend to shop and that’s okay. We just need to get our shoes cobbled right. These pants need no introduction and they always work (while you play) or share the spotlight that seems to be flooding the room.

Finally some folks have listened to the Muse (and Men) and have created a line of pants that not only looks amazing but also works. Thank you gentlemen. I only suggest that they add a cautionary label: “WARNING: these pants will become your go-to pants.”

When I put them on, I was looking to go some place else already. Know that impatient but so excited feeling? Like, when is the next flight to Caracas so I can get back to that tiny café? Or let me get out of Boston for the day and slip “down to the Cape” and walk on the tiny strip of quiet beach in Wellfleet.

I am not sure when denim jeans became sport utility pants. These Bonobos are lightweight, but they are not lightweights. They are workhorses that are eager to be saddled up for a gallop or simply walked.

Look around and you will see which folks are wearing and living by choice. Lemmings do their thing but would not if they wore Bonobos.

Okay. I am now done. And my new Bonobos are just part of a beginning. We are grown ups wearing grown up clothing so let’s stop looking for a happy ending and remember the importance of a great many beginnings.

Life is more than segments of five minutes of joy.

These guys have gotten it right.

It’s up to you now. Take it one leg at a time.

I first encountered Bonobos on Nantucket Island in the summer of 2007, when I saw my friend donning his new Turqs. I was immediately dumbstruck. I had not seen anything like those pants in my life and immediately knew I had to own my own pair.

Soon after I returned to Chicago I purchased my first pair of Bonobos pants: the Mint Julep. I decided to give them my test run in Los Angeles while visiting friends for the weekend. Not only were they the most comfortable pants I had ever worn, they were also a huge hit. I was stopped in several local watering holes, asked what designer had made my pants, where they could be purchased, and what other colors were available. No one believed me when I told them that these new friends of mine had just launched their own pants company called Bonobos and that these amazing pants weren’t from one of the big companies…

Soon after, I purchased my F. Scotts for a more patriotic reason: I am an alumnus from the University of Illinois and they are the perfect gameday pant! These durable stretch corduroys are ideal for living in Chicago, allowing me to wear them from fall through spring and still retain some style.

Bonobos… Amazing comfort, a great fit, and something that makes you stand out from the usual jeans crowd. What else do you need in a pair of pants?

Just got back from “closing parties” weekend in Ibiza, one of the most beautiful and hedonistic resorts on the planet. I had booked my trip earlier in the summer to make sure I didn’t miss the madness, and I was ready when my 10 pm flight rolled around on Thursday night. I was ready because I was traveling with three people who knew how to have a good time, because I had a hotel room booked in case I wanted sleep, and because I was traveling in a new pair of leopard print Bonobos pants. These pants are only available in person, from one of the founders, from what I understand.

The weekend was amazing.

I slept three hours in three days and we absolutely destroyed the party scene (Pacha, Amnesia, KM5, Space). I think I did more concentrated dancing this weekend then ever. The scene was shockingly good. The Bonobos were a huge hit. There was spirited debate about whether they were cheetah print or leopard print, and the pants made it easy to meet a ton of fun, friendly people, which is one of my favorite features of international travel. One girl that happened to be on the same Thursday night flight from London saw me on Saturday at Space wearing the Bonobos, and she just assumed that I had been partying nonstop since I got off the plane! I was an instant celebrity. She and her friends danced with us all weekend and we have already met up once in London. Another girl now calls me cheetah or “big C” because she remembers the pants so well.

Bonobos has also been an inspiration for me to pursue some of my own personal interests. One of which is encouraging people to resist social constraints and do the things they want to do in life. I now help people with this by giving them (literally and figuratively) licenses to do whatever they want, and I gave away my first sexual freedom license this weekend (license to tell your next partner about your sexual fantasies). Sadly, I can’t tell you if she’s used it yet, but maybe one day I’ll know.

I also love my Bonobos because of the story behind them – one of my friends from San Francisco, Brian Spaly, who actually knows nothing about fashion or apparel, just went out and started making pants for himself and his friends. Brian and I have traveled the world together hitting up some of the best clubs and nightlife around – I’m not surprised that he made me the best pair of party pants I’ve ever worn! Brian’s courage to pursue a business outside of his education gives all of us loosely educated, corporate-trained, athletic men something to be excited about in our social lives. I can’t help but tell the story everywhere I go.

Back before babies, Andre Agassi and Suddenly Susan, Brooke Shields was the teenage nymphet that

brought the Blue Lagoon to near-breathless life. And she was the “Oh, she’s just too young to be hawking fashion as a sex symbol!” star of a very famous Calvin Klein jeans series of advertisements, you might remember, where she not so subtly uttered:

Nothing comes between me and my Calvins. (nice grammar)

Now, don’t worry, people, I’m not calling myself a sex symbol in the lofty vein of Brooke Shields. Nor did I go to Princeton. And I am also certainly not too young to be selling my sex appeal (Fie on you, 30th birthday). What I am is one world traveler and present Manhattanite who knows a good pair of pants when I see them, and most importantly, knows a great pair of pants when I wear them. And these are they (accentuated by the correct grammar, I hope… take that Shields). For the past four weeks I have been wearing my Bonobos turqs lightweight cords everywhere. From the Grand Prix du Montreal to the Lower East Side of New York City. From Lisboa and Tavira in Portugal to Nantucket. From London to East Hampton. And all points in between (wait, that is an ocean… oh, right, I wore them on the plane as well, did I mention that they are comfortable… like wearing your favorite and most broken in pair of OR scrubs, that is if you are an OR doctor or have access to scrubs of the OR or any section of the hospital for that matter… by the way, I am not a doctor).

Bonobos have the rare quality of being comfortable enough to want to take a lazy summer’s afternoon nap in, yet have the stylings, colour palates and design elements (especially the patterned waist and pocket linings) to be able to party into the night. So why not do both. I do. And, to steal a quote from the woman who dominated the pinups from my early teen Tiger Beat years, as well as to finally add an element of truth to the quote (I mean, does anyone actually believe that Brooke Shields actually went Commando?)

Nothing comes between me and my Bonobos.

- Michael Spirito, 2:15pm, email from the Empire State Building