pair, and the heavy, boxy T-shirts I buy in
multiples are significantly more deluxe than
your average tee but just as easy to wear.
Lemaire’s eponymous Paris-based label,
which he has been designing with his
partner, Sarah-Linh Tran, since 2014, makes
sumptuous knit sweaters and crepe-fabric
tees that are the fashion equivalent of
sliding into a warm bath. That’s also the
luxurious-yet-approachable sensibility
he brings to Uniqlo U.
Key to the brand’s success is Lemaire’s
ability to infuse ordinary clothing—the kind
we can all count on Uniqlo for—with the
lessons he’s learned from taking high-end
fashion in easy-breezy directions. “Given
my background of working with luxury
brands, I am able to bring true European
influence to Uniqlo U,” he says. “We are
extremely precise on the weight of the
cotton, the way it’s knit, and other details,
such as the finishing, volume, and colors.These sorts of things are what elevates a
normal T-shirt to make it look luxury.”
Uniqlo U succeeds where other high-low
fashion partnerships fail, thanks to
the type of “European influence” Lemaire
brings. Cramming together the worlds of
high fashion and mass retail often results in
garish designs—prints meant for beautiful
silk reappropriated onto crummy inexpensive
fabrics or two logos forced into a gruesome
head-on collision. Lemaire isn’t reliant
on such heavy-handed dog whistles.
So when Lemaire makes a $15 T-shirt,
he knows which knobs to turn and buttons
to press to make sure it belies the price tag.
He’s not focused on hype, only fine-tuning
each piece until it’s perfect. And so, because
of his loving touch, we can all have T-shirts
and pants and jackets that are “normal”—in
price, accessibility, and spirit—but look
like the epitome of aspirational luxury.
—CAM WOLFHAT STARTED in 2015 as
a collaboration between
ex–Hermès artistic director
Christophe Lemaire and
Uniqlo has grown into a full-blown
sub-brand. With two seasons each year
and Lemaire installed as the full-time
creative head, Uniqlo U has become my
most trustworthy closet standby.
Ever since I discovered the collection
of smartly designed, phenomenally
affordable menswear, shopping has felt
like getting away with an Ocean’s
Eleven–style caper in which we all make
off with enormous fits. It’s as though
Uniqlo U is the result of one massive
accounting error, if not an actual heist. The
blazers are tailored expertly enough to
outclass department-store competitors,
the corduroy pants I wear multiple times
a week were once confused with a
coworker’s exponentially more expensive