

I understand you wear a N&L dressing gown to write. Why?
I wear a gown, pajamas, and Eton style slippers with the suede soles, so as not to torment my neighbors any more than I usually do with the endless hacking of my typewriter. I keep the gown at my wife's pied-a-terre in Bal Harbour, Florida, as it's a summer weight. Florida is where I go in the final stages of completing a solid first draft of a manuscript, as it's quiet, sunny, and I can toss myself into an azure pool or fall asleep under a coconut tree to muse upon the comma. Here in New York, I wear N&L striped pajamas, and a velvet jacket or navy blazer as I like to keep the temperature in the apartment in the 50s, if possible. An hour before my wife returns home from her office, I begin the agonising process of raising the thermostat to 72, where it stays until she departs in the morning, when I can again, fling open the windows like a drunk extra in Mary Poppins.
I type my novels at a small desk once used to smuggle documents for the Résisance in World War II. It was gifted to me by my mentor 20 years ago. Like many writers I write on an Olivetti Lettera 32 because of a unique technical feature, and so you could say that New & Lingwood nightwear is what I wear to work. The pajamas and nightshirts feel cool, smooth (not scratchy), and launder well, meaning they can be washed and ironed so that they feel new. The only drawback with the quality is that the only things I'm able to buy on a regular basis from the shop are cashmere or cotton socks (depending on the season) and ties. Though, there are items on my bucket list, which I visit at the shops in New York and on Jermyn Street, just to look at


Many famous writers have been noted for their style. What do you think the connection might be?
Attention to detail? To be a writer, it's simple: allow yourself to become wild, obsessive, and relentless. Basically everything you wouldn't do in a relationship. When writing, you have to do exactly what you want on the page. In other words, write the story you've always wanted to read. If you work with the worry of what people will think, you'll have all the creative autonomy of Pinnochio. The same is true for dress. Wear whatever fills you with energy, regardless of what others might say.
It's true there have been some stylish writers, but if a writer was unkind, or a dunkard, or a philanderer, then what they wore in life means nothing to me. I believe style starts with how a person treats others. If you're a kind person, you'll always be in fashion, no matter what you put on. Once you've got this foundation of manners, the key to dressing is also the key to writing fiction--indulge in what you think is interesting and exciting. Have the confidence and the courage. Sure, you can go to New & Lingwood or Turnbull & Asser or Hilditch & Key and come out looking very elegant indeed, but is it you? Don't be afraid to pair interesting things with the staples, things that have a story or significance to you.


Why do you think you find yourself drawn to classic menswear?
When I was 8, I was sent to a British boarding school. Although my father would go on to earn a doctorate later in life, no one in my family had then been to university, and definitely not to a private school. The atmosphere in the dormitory with our housemaster was like something in a film by David Lean, all dust and pipes and wood and leather and ancient, crumbling chapels where children froze in song. I wore a tie and jacket and trousers everyday. When anybody other than another student entered the classroom, we stood. And when they left, we stood. I still do it now out of habit, and anyone under the age of 90 looks at me strangely. There was literally an outfit for every activity, from cricket to Judo. I still have my tie with the school motto, Die Gratia Sum Quod Sum, which loosely translates as, By the Grace of God, I am What I am.
There are other influences too. When I was a boy I had a paper route ('paper round' the British say) and some of my clients inhabited a concrete housing block known as Godwin Court. The residents were all elderly men. There were no women on the premises that I remember. Some of these gents read the Telegraph, others read the Guardian, but most read the Times. They were all awake by 0600 and would open the door before I could shred their newspaper by forcing it through the letterbox. They wore sweater vests, ties, starched shirts, corduroy trousers, polished Brogue or Oxford shoes, and smelled of pipe tobacco, aftershave, shoe polish, leather, and bacon. They were good friends to me, and I think about these men often. Later I discovered they were all veterans of the RAF and had flown in the Battle of Britain. Lastly, but of equal influence, my dear old father, who never cursed, never raised his voice in anger, and was never without a shirt, trousers, and jacket.


What do you hope your own style says about you?
Lovely question. I hope it says I'm reliable and trustworthy, like my own father and the men who have inspired me over the course of my life. I would like to be that man for young people, now that I'm edging close to 50, and so I hope my style is inviting to those of a similar mind, who value things like handshakes, magnanimity, honor, duty, and of course British tradition without the awful, brutal, elements, such as nationalism and patriarchy. New & Lingwood is not just a shop to me, it's an institution, a potential meeting place for people with shared values, and I would love a more social element to extend from the retail experience, the way that Dunhill has taken as a club, the former residence of the Duke of Westminster in London.
The clothes and shoes and accoutrements at N&L are expensive, yes, but I believe it was King Charles III who said something like, 'buy once and buy well. I also like the fact that, if I had some leisure time, I could travel to the various spots in Britain or Italy where the clothes and shoes are made, and thank the talented folks who have so kindly devoted their time and talent to an age-old craft. There aren't many people who can say they've had a cup of tea with the person who made their socks, or sewed the soles onto their Oxfords, but with N&L, it's entirely possible.