Ouigi Theodore in Brooklyn

Published in print, March 2016.

Words by Andrew Geeves
Photography by Giuseppe Santamaria

Brooklyn is renowned for its straight-shooting inhabitants, tight-knit communities, and living sense of history. It is difficult to imagine a gentleman who could be more at home in Brooklyn than Ouigi Theodore — a menswear pioneer with his own boutique and brand, The Brooklyn Circus. MITT met up with Theodore to talk about fashion as an art form, stoop culture, and his 100-year plan. 

“The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less,” stated the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates, in 469 BCE. Fast-forward almost two and a half millennia, journey about 8,000km west, and zoom in on a corner store nestled between exactly the type of brownstones with external fire escapes that you would expect to see in picturesque Boerum Hill, Brooklyn. Here we find Ouigi Theodore, lover of people and owner of menswear boutique, The Brooklyn Circus, sitting on a bench outside his storefront with a twinkle in his eye, watching the world go by. “The reality is that the most beautiful and longest-lasting things come with the ability to say a lot more with less,” muses Theodore.  

Connection and history are two of Theodore’s favourite talking points. “Through history, you get to see the things that actually lasted, the most beautiful aspects of humankind,” the bearded gentleman enthuses. Growing up in Brooklyn, Theodore was immersed in community from a young age. “What Brooklyn has that Manhattan lacks is a history of neighbourhoods,” he says. “When the high rises started to come up and get bigger in Manhattan about 30 years ago, they literally divided the communities. If you live in a 20-storey building, you never get to see your neighbours. In Brooklyn, there’s a higher chance of seeing your neighbour coming out of their home, parking their car, sitting on their stoop, going to the grocery store. That platform to interact creates community. People need community, which is why Brooklyn vibrates. Where are you having a block party in Midtown? It’s people living together, seeing how other people go about their lives, rather than being cooped up in their high-rise apartments. It’s the stoop. People come and join you. Brooklyn fosters stoop culture.”

While he revels in nostalgia, Theodore is also quick to seek out and recognise the beauty of people that he encounters in the present moment. “I just love people so much. In all aspects of life, when you meet [new] people, you just think, That guy is phenomenal, where is he from?,” he says. “That’s what is beautiful about a circus, all these crazy, weird folks. You don’t have to choose. You enjoy the whole experience! The circus is attractive to many different kinds of people—young, old, rich and poor. Everyone is all together.” 

Thinking back to his childhood, Theodore reflects on the role that his relationship to clothing played in helping him curate his own circus of people. “Even as a teenager, I was always looking to connect with folks. When I was 15, I would get on a train and travel hours away to go to a remote store to buy something and then bring it back and wear it to school. Then, the conversation: ‘Where did you get that? I’ve never seen that! Is that Polo?’ For me, that was the excitement, the dialogue that resulted from that journey. People have always been at the centre of my creativity.” 

Like his mother, grandmother and aunts before him, the ways in which Theodore relates to and uses clothing runs deeper than utility or trend. “It was about discovering another way to express yourself. It wasn’t about fashion. For all the women who raised me, it was about creating an extension of themselves through their dress. That’s what I try to do. I’ve never claimed to be this fashion guy…. When you are connecting with me, we’re not having conversations about fashion; we’re having conversations about style, character, history, and people,” he says. “My mother dealt in trade and was a socialite. I was introduced to this way of expressing myself by observing her ability to use what she was wearing and her appearance to communicate to others. My mother and grandmother were always very conscious of why they dressed the way that they dressed. If we were having dinner parties, my grandmother would wear a beautiful flowing housedress. She would lightly put on some jewellery that she’d had for years, and she never wore make-up. There was always a sense of glamour in her ability to not try to look glamorous. That is now in my thinking and everything that I do: how do you create this level of approachable glam?”

Theodore’s fondness for an approachable aesthetic underlies the philosophy behind his own personal style. “We’re in the fashion show business. The showmanship is cool, a lot of guys do it. They put on the nine-piece suit and the cape and the hat. They layer it on. I get it. I’ve done that at some point,” he says. “But when you really find yourself, how do you strip it all down and say ‘OK, this is what I really need?’ It’s more challenging and exciting to figure out the little nuances in what you’re wearing. It’s like a beautiful woman. Take off the make-up; let it be a dash of lipstick, a little blush on the cheeks. That’s really how I approach my style now.” He also strives to incorporate this less-is-more vision into his store and its eponymous clothing line. “People would say they were heavily inspired by The Brooklyn Circus, and I’d look at their space and say, ‘OK, you’ve got the look, but where is the character?’ I thought, Is that what we’re communicating? How do we simplify this?” 

Now in its 13th year, The Brooklyn Circus sprang to life at the urging of one of Theodore’s friends. “I was in the nightlife business, promoting events and parties. I had a way of approaching things that wasn’t normal. When promoting events, I thought more about the package design...How do I make an invite that creates an experience? How do we get you involved in the party before you even attend the party? We did a bunch of full-experience parties. But I got to the point where I just wanted to design. I found an office space and started designing freelance,” Theodore recalls. “A good buddy of mine told me that people followed what I did and that I should put my perspective out there. He took me to a trade show and we walked around. I thought it was cool, but that there was a lot more that needed to be done. So I decided to give it a shot and it snowballed into all of this. I put my opinion into product and it just blossomed.” 

The store, which looks like a library-cum-gentleman’s club with its dark wood paneling, antique cabinets, books, and vintage curios, started out selling third-party brands, and continues to carry a small, quality selection today, including Nisus Hotel from Japan and Merz B. Schwanen from Germany. “I always looked at it like the circus, putting things together and making them vibrate, like a cast of characters,” he says. “After a while, it was a little more difficult to find these things and I thought that I could design them. It worked out. Then the business aspect of it starts. You try to work out how to make money and survive. Now I’m at a point where I’m just trying to figure out how we can keep on having fun and continue to tell things from our perspective, incorporating our 100-year plan.” 

Having a 100-year plan might sound unattainable, but it’s clear that Theodore’s plan is as well-considered as it is humble. “I don’t have this billion-dollar goal,” he says. “I’ve been on a yacht and I’ve had the finest wines. I’ve done all that stuff [but] I’m not a yacht kind of guy. The 100-year plan is wrapped around people and experiences and creating product that lasts. I love to buy our jackets back from people and to see that they have lasted. Our goal is to be creating the products that you will still have in 100 years’ time.” 

This may seem an unusual sentiment in an era with such a strong emphasis on convenience, immediacy and disposability, but Theodore is not afraid to go against the grain. “I’ve never felt like I’ve fitted the mold,” he says. “The next chapter for us is definitely runway shows and presentations. I have more to say. When you look at the best designers in the business, they are clearly making statements. There’s a narrative. Do I want to come out and bow at the crowd and wave? No. But I’ve got 90 more years to go, and I’m thinking about how I can use that. I’m a huge fan of Thom Browne and Alexander McQueen and all of these guys that have been able to completely tell their story through what they do. I want to do that. I want to put that out to the world and see what they say.” And for Theodore, fashion is also the most natural medium with which to do that. “I can’t draw as well as I would like to draw. I can’t paint as well as I would like to paint. And I can’t shoot a picture to save my life. I can’t play music, but I do still have a tool, an artistic instrument that I can use. I will continue to walk straight and create beautiful things. This is my art form. For years I thought I wasn’t an artist. I fought with it. Then I realised, Dude, you’re an artist!” 

As an artist, how does Theodore manage when he might be lacking in inspiration? “I try not to take myself and what I do too seriously,” he says. “The dark side of creativity in reference to the circus is the sideshow. Inspiration [comes from] being around people that allow you to speak your truth. You can constantly fight about whether you want to make money or create beautiful things. I want to do both. I’m an artist and a businessman. When you’re being honest about what you’re trying to say and where your ideas come from, there will always be room for inspiration.”

END