Browne and his staff of four work out of a tiny, appointment-only shop around the corner from Pastis, where he eats the same breakfast (black coffee, white toast) every morning. The suits are not cheap (they sell for upwards of $3,000), and they’re sold in only sixteen stores worldwide. Sales have been best at Bergdorf Goodman, close to Browne’s epicenter of buzz, and in Japan, where men’s smaller builds fit the shape exactly right.
Browne’s moving to a new space in Tribeca in just a few months, where he’ll have a store of sorts that’s open to the public (although the made-to-measure suits will still require an appointment). That will require a number of alterations to his unflappable daily routine (a run in the park precedes his Pastis breakfast; workdays end with a single drink at Soho House and dinner at Il Cantinori). But like Lauren, his former employer, Browne has ambition on a scale with his fully fleshed muse. “Eventually, I want to do everything for this guy,” he says at Soho House, elaborating on the ideal. “He just comes in for a suit and a white shirt. But I want to do his gym clothes, his underwear, his T-shirts, and how he lives at home. It’s a very nice, very Continental, very charming world.”