It’s a New Menswear Dawn

Sporting SS24’s most outstanding outfits, straight off the runway.

Menswear in 2023 got off to a chaotic start. The creative director carousel turned into a thrill ride. Viral runway moments became an object for clout chasing and then, of scorn. We pronounced streetwear dead, but had yet to tell us that quiet luxury would be the next era-defining fashion meme. It felt like a chapter had ended, but the next one hadn’t started yet. Lucky for us, there’s always next season.June’s SS24 menswear collections felt like a sounding shot for a new era. Yes, Pharrell’s installation as luxury’s next god-emperor provided the defining moment of the festivities. But the topic being discussed in the showrooms, on the harried metro rides, in the front rows of more lo-fi runways was how clothes were becoming clothes again—and how the quiet luxury playbook is much more interesting than Kendall Roy wearing a Loro Piana baseball cap.If the height of the Virgil-Kanye-Demna-ocity was menswear’s arena rock moment, then the best of last month’s collections were the acoustic set. Texture, charisma, and a renewed desire to look elegant ruled the day. It was a “you had to be there” season, an “I liked the book better than the movie” season, or, to put it succinctly, an IYKYK season. And all of that is very different from being low-key (quiet) or rich (luxury), because neither of those traits are cool in a meaningful way. Behold some new rules for sharp dudes everywhere.

A lot of psychic energy has been spilled on the idea of “prep.” But as someone who has dressed this way for two-thirds of their life, I don’t feel like the conversation ever gets it right. Prep isn’t about embroidered insignia, or broadcasting wealth, or even chinos and polo shirts. Prep is about finding comfort and belonging in familiarity and uniform. Yes, those two things are coded socio-economically, but so is a fur coat or a pair of suede loafers. The rugby shirt that has been washed endlessly to the point of being a second skin is prep. The blazer you’ve bought the same version of four times throughout your life is prep. The original prepsters wore prep because it was the easiest and most available thing for them to wear.

Enter the new prep: a way of dressing that subs the references for an extra dose of nonchalance. The Row’s delightful menswear is the epitome of this feeling, with chic renditions of familiar classics (Boston mules, light denim, car coats) that up the demure anonymity of the original. But the nice thing about the new prep is that you can find it in surprising places—like JW Anderson’s SS24 outing, which, among the geometry-defying knitwear and surreal, anamorphic brogues, also blessed us with tennis dresses, rugbies, and a perfectly faded gray polo.

Sportiness and formality are the Zoroastrian poles of menswear; twin forces that stand in opposition yet exist in tense harmony with one another. For the past decade, sportiness in menswear has been about hyper-utility: all black everything, all GORP everything. If it couldn’t survive the rain tunnel at Gore-Tex HQ, it was for the birds. But this season we are beginning to see the germination of a new kind of sporty—one that blends techy textures with the more structured elements of gentlemanly dress. Think of it like the opposite of athleisure. Rather than dressing like he may need to deadlift at a moment’s notice, the sporty man of today is forever ready to meet his Tinder date’s parents. Take Iceland’s RANRA: a label creating technical garments that demonstrate a remarkable amount of attention to color, semi-glossy textiles, and wonderful details (like this baseball cap that ties in the back like a bandana). The RANRA man is not a paramilitary parkour hacker, but rather someone who enjoys garment-dyeing and range of motion in equal measure. Or how about the maestros over at AURALEE, whose layering pieces, such as this sheer nylon anorak, bring both the utility of a tech garment and the sensitivity to match the smartest of outfits. Magic tricks, like making the perfect pleated Bermuda short out of ultra-fine wool, are what AURALEE (and the new sporty) is all about.

It’s easy to overlook the ways in which the streetwear era was also quietly a workwear era, one in which the humble genre took on a new prominence and place within fashion. Designers like Matthew M. Williams and Kim Jones entered the chat by creating ultra-luxe takes on military and utilitarian designs. Meanwhile, a blue-collar brand like Carhartt became part of the fashion canon to an extent that it can now fluidly link up with cult houses like Marni and Sacai. Workwear’s rise (and its staying power) comes from the fact that many workwear garments are perfect items of clothing: the blue jean, the chore jacket, the T-shirt.

But as workwear soldiers into this brave new world, the most successful contributions to the genre are swapping utility for romanticism. Because who wants to broadcast their usefulness by wearing bulletproof-looking duck fabric, or by having debates about how period-correct their button fly is? The geniuses at LEMAIRE forgo this discussion by creating hyper-practical garments that build on the geometries and materials of workwear, while dialing up the ethereality through color, pleating, and movement. Take the magnificent salt-gray denim they introduced this season, with its hand-dyed finish that gives a dose of the uncanny to a garment we’ve all seen a million times. Or its matching fishing vest, an item that would look campy if not for its flowy material and perfect fit. If you’re asking yourself why you don’t own a fishing vest, then it’s doing its job.

In a post-pandemic era where every day is casual Friday, the suit has found itself in the midst of an unlikely Cambrian explosion. Yes, the 9-to-5 salary man now wears a Patagonia vest rather than a single-breasted blazer, but business honchos were never great at wearing suits anyway. Liberated from its day job, the suit is now free to roam into the exciting territory of eveningwear and even daytime dandyism. Tuxedos in particular are having a COVID revenge moment, as seen in Valentino’s return to the Milan menswear calendar, Saint Laurent’s Berlin black tie bonanza, and more experimental interpretations like Kiko Kostadinov’s two-piece take on a three-piece. With its jumpsuit that takes the waist out of a traditional waist coat and its layered shawl lapel, this deconstructed evening ensemble hearkens to the nonchalant elegance that black tie so desperately needs.

But the new suit isn’t all about after-hours revelry. Daytime tailoring warriors will rejoice at the expressive range of suits put forth by the likes of Dries Van Noten, whose recent explorations of colorful textiles, unlikely patterns, and ’70s silhouettes have been a gift to dudes about town everywhere. Here’s the thing: one does not wear a pink pinstriped Dries Van Noten suit with an hourglass blazer, a mesh mock neck, and bell-bottomed trousers to work. In fact, there should be a special universal basic income for anyone who wears this outfit.But perhaps the most hallowed institution for expressive suiting is Rei Kawakubo’s Comme des Garçons Homme Plus, which has taken pants and blazers to unfathomable corners of the collective psyche. This season, Homme Plus pulled no punches. It threw the internet a viral bone with its Frankensteinian oxfords, but the suits were the real star. Layered shreds of tailoring? Bermuda shorts? A trompe l’oeil of clothes printed on…clothes? Only from the mind of a genius.

While the suit is getting payback, coziness has found itself on the outs. As the masses burn their sweatpants in the name of “real dressing,” the contrarian in me wonders where the place might be for out-and-proud hygge in today’s culture. Interestingly, SS24’s menswear collections put forth a fair share of pyjama sets—something that builds on the overall growing demand for matching sets in recent years. The thing about classic pyjamas is that their whimsical quality transcends the schlubbiness of cozy. Take designer Edward Cuming’s contribution to the genre, which accentuates the theatricality of the sleepwear set by adding frilly pockets, an even frillier waist, and an extra-long drawstring. If you’re fully at home in your bodega or your box at the opera, you must be playing by the rules of the new cozy.

In its new, maximalist SS24 collection, Acne Studios put forth a different hypothesis on the future of cozy: a cropped Juicy-esque tracksuit for men. Rather than hearkening back to the Bush era (because we’re all tired of that, right?), Acne’s mini loungewear set is a paparazzi-friendly evolution of the slouchy scumbro silhouette. If Jacob Elordi can strut into Erewhon sans shoes, why can’t you pick up a smoothie with your belly button showing?

In a season where I have heard the words “elevated” and “classic” enough to make my ears bleed, it’s necessary to pay special attention to what the real weirdos are doing. Rick Owens blessed his congregation with an all-black collection that introduced delightfully high-waisted trousers, footwear inspired by orthopedic splints, uncharacteristically loose cargo shorts, and—my personal favorite—a pair of gloves connected by way of a long band of leather that stretches across the shoulders. If Owens is a guidebook to our times, then the message was clear: Find magic in the known, rather than spreading yourself thin.

In other areas of the extreme, cult designers leaned into their most cultish traits. Trickster god Guram Gvasalia unveiled a Vetements collection featuring garments produced at a 16XL scale that defied the laws of physics. Within the “normal” end of the brand’s offering, one could find scaled up (but not quite gargantuan) outfits that riffed on familiar house codes: fetishy leather, thick denim, and deconstructionist gestures like producing a garment inside out. Meanwhile, LU’U DAN journeys deeper into the depths of its own brand universe, one built around the “final boss” personas of action movie villains. The brand’s new sex-shop chaps, normally designed to be worn over its uber-wide pants, bring a Tom of Finland edge to its aesthetic of hyper-masculine to the point of vulnerability.