Drawstring Theory

Tim Blanks talks to loungewear maestro James Perse

May 18, 2007—At 16, James Perse was flogging hats to Deadheads. In the roughly two decades since, the son of Los Angeles fashion don Tommy Perse has built his own burgeoning empire of laid-back sportswear. Here, he talks about his New York men's store, which opened this week in the West Village.

What type of clientele are you attracting in New York versus L.A.?
In the Bleecker store, you get this young professional couple, the wife shopping, the husband sitting at the front reading a book. It's a more intellectual feeling than the West Coast. I think the market has lost touch [and lacks] places for people like that to go and get everyday basics. Whether they're 25 or 75, it's a classic customer, somebody who likes to be comfortable, more timeless.

Sounds like the new Gap.
There are some parallels to that marketplace.

The Beverly Hills superstore you're opening in July will sell the Perse universe. What's on offer in NYC?
We've expanded on Bleecker, so now we have shops for men and women selling Standard, which is core basics, and the Los Angeles line, [which is] seasonal fashion. I want the men's store to be a one-stop neighborhood shop.

Do you feel like a chip off the old block?
When you said you were from California, people stereotypically asked if you surfed, but my father opened my eyes to everything from architecture to the best designers in the world. What I've been trying to do is marry the two together, balance worldly sophistication with that kicked-back Californian sensibility.

The most interesting West Coast designers always find some shadow in the sunshine, a little darkness, perhaps. I've always felt it in your washed-out colors and superworn cottons.
I wouldn't call it darkness—I think it's more like an edge.

So how do you inject edge into a pair of drawstring pants?
There's no rule book—it could be the finish or how you combine colors. Or if the fabric is more than you've seen in the past, it already pushes it to somewhere else. You have to look at something and say, "I love it, and I haven't seen it in 100 different places."