How much do you think it costs to make a pair of Nike shoes in Asia?
I'll show you. 🧵
In 2014, Steve Bence served as Nike's Program Director in Footwear Sourcing and Manufacturing. He pulled back the curtain on manufacturing in an interview with Portland Business Journal. He said that, if a sneaker retails for $100, it generally costs them about $25 to manufacture
This is the FOB cost. In the industry, "free on board" is the shoe's cost at the point when it's loaded onto a vessel at the port of origin. "Free" refers to how the factory will pay to deliver a finished product up to the point when it boards a ship—the rest is your problem.
Tariffs are calculated on the declared value of the import. In this imaginary case, if Nike paid a factory $25 to produce a pair of sneakers, then their tariff cost is $26. This roughly doubles the cost of making a pair of shoes in Asia and bringing it into the US (landed cost).
"OK," you say, "so that leaves them with a $49 profit. $100 retail minus $25 manufacturing cost and $26 tariff. That's still good."
Not so! There are other costs associated with getting that shoe into your closet. You are not collecting that sneaker at the port.
In 2016, Sole Review took a look at Nike's income statement and came up with this breakdown. On an imaginary $100 shoe, they estimate manufacturing cost is $22. Add freight, insurance, and import taxes, they estimate it costs Nike $27 to bring that shoe from Asia to the US.
They also looked at Footlocker's income statement/ 10k filing and came up with this model. On the same imaginary $100 shoe, Footlocker makes $6 after expenses.
Of course, Nike can retail the shoes themselves, but then they'll also take on similar business costs.
The actual costs associated with shoes will vary depending on the design, sourcing, and other specifics. The imaginary shoe above is set at $100 to make things easier as a percentage. For completeness, you can read Sole Review's story here:
First, adding $26 tariff at the port doesn't just add $26 to the final price. Everything here works off of percentages. In this simple model, we say Nike has a landed cost of $25, sells it to Footlocker for $50, and they retail at $100
But if we bump the cost of freight, insurance, and customs from $5 to, say, $28, then they wholesale the shoes to Footlocker for about $75. And if Footlocker purchases Nike shoes for $75, then they retail them for $150. Everyone needs to fixed percentages to avoid losses.
The second thing we see is that Asian manufacturing in Asia produces US jobs. You go to Footlocker to buy a pair of $100 shoes because you can afford them. This creates jobs for the Footlocker employees, Nike designers, marketing teams, and other US people throughout this chain.
The third thing we see is that Nike only paid the factory about $25 to make these sneakers. How much did it cost the factory to produce them? I don't have numbers on that, but if we assume the usual turnkey model, then maybe $12.5? And how much of that went to the worker?
Again, it's a popular misconception that all overseas production is sweatshops. Production can be done ethically abroad and still be relatively cheap because the cost of living is not the same everywhere. I encourage you to note assume that every Asian worker is a slave.
We have some idea of how much it would cost to make sneakers in the US. Victory/ Hersey (before they closed), SAS, and certain New Balances are made here. They retail for about $220.
Note, many of these rely on imported materials (up to 30%). So they will go up with tariffs.
I think making shoes is a perfectly fine job, although it suffers from the same problem as other manufacturing jobs. As the US has switched to a post-industrial economy, a lot of the wage growth has been in knowledge intensive services—medicine, law, engineering.
That means the Nike designer and marketer typically see more wage growth year-after-year than someone working on the manufacturing line (especially if they're not unionized and can leverage collective bargaining power).
Tech optimists think that technology will make factory jobs easier and better for workers. I'm less sanguine. I think some tech improves productivity and wages; other types of tech deskills and eliminates jobs (look at AI with illustration art).
I raise this only because I see some people suggest that it only costs Nike $2 to make a pair of sneakers in Asian sweatshops, which retail on the shelf for $150, and this is $148 profit. And if we move this back to the US, American workers can capture some of that money.
I think the truth is much more complicated. Manufacturing overseas can create certain jobs here by offering a more affordable product. In the end, you may actually see a *loss* of US jobs as fewer people pay for $220 sneakers, both at home and abroad.
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Most people think of black tie as the most formal kind of menswear, but technically speaking, it's semi-formal evening attire. Historically, men wore this kind of outfit to dinner or evening shows, such as going to the opera or ballet. Or celebrations such as NYE parties.
White tie is true formalwear. It differs from black tie primarily in how it requires a long tailcoat (black tie originated when men cut the tails off their coats to create a more casual garment for dinner). Also requires a white waistcoat, white tie, and wing collar.
If you're interested in bespoke tailoring and based in the United States, I have some trunk show announcements to share with you. Since Twitter recently changed their formatting options, I will be doing this as a thread. 🧵
Matthew Gonzalez
There's a long history of cross-border influence and immigration in tailoring, but as far as I know, Matthew Gonzalez is the first American to operate under his own banner on Savile Row. Born and raised in Southern California, he moved to London about twenty years ago to pursue a degree in bespoke tailoring from the London College of Fashion. Thereafter, he climbed the ranks — moving from undercutter at Thom Sweeney to cutter at Dunhill and eventually Huntsman, where he achieved his longtime goal of cutting on Savile Row.
Today, he runs his own firm, where he merges his California sensibility with his training in British bespoke craftsmanship. He recently told me he admires a photo of JFK staring out of a window. The President dressed in a dark worsted suit, white button-up shirt, and dark silk necktie, but everything about the photo looks very casual and relaxed. This, he told me, is what American style means to him.
Gonzalez cuts suits and sport coats inspired by that mid-century American tailoring, although he's adamant about not wanting the clothes to look like historical costumes. Thus, while the jackets have a soft, natural shoulder line, he sticks with front darts and prefers side vents (rather than the dartless front and hook vent characteristic of Ivy Style). The lapels have a moderate width and minimal belly (the curve sometimes distinguishing an older style of British tailoring). The garments are designed so they can be teamed with a dress shirt and tie, or something more casual such as a chambray button-up.
Given Gonzalez's penchant for slightly more relaxed, casual attire, it's no surprise that he also offers made-to-measure suede jackets, wool-cashmere shawl collar cardigans, and denim Western shirts (made without the contrast stitching, so they look more at home with tailoring). He's also one of the few bespoke tailors I've met who "gets it" when it comes to the polo coat, arguably the most iconic of American overcoat styles. Gonzalez tells me he thinks a polo coat should have letter box patch pockets, a half belt, gauntlet cuffs, an inverted back pleat, and a center button vent. But crucially, he also thinks the split-sleeves should be made with a lapped seam. To my eye, this makes the garment more casual and sporty—truer to its original roots—and allows the tailor to shape the sleevehead.
Consider Gonzalez if you share the same sensibilities: a love for classic American tailoring, but a suspicion of styles that are too anachronistic, and a bias towards clothes that feel more relaxed and casual. The point about Gonzalez using a split-sleeve with a lapped seam demonstrates that he takes care of details that may not occur to a client, but will be appreciated years down the road.
Taillour
In bespoke tailoring, there's a generally accepted rule that most clients would do well to observe: choose a company based on their house style and stay close to it. The term "house style" refers to the tailor's established methods, which combine to create clothes with a distinguishable fit and feel. Just as you wouldn't order burritos from a ramen chef, you shouldn't ask an English tailor for an Italian jacket (or vice versa).
Taillour is one of the few exceptions. Co-founder and head cutter Fred Nieddu has worked in the bespoke tailoring industry for decades, cutting for firms such as Thom Sweeney and even teaching pattern drafting courses at the London College of Fashion. A good percentage of his current workload involves making clothes for films and TV shows. In fact, you may have seen his creations. He made all the menswear for the Netflix series The Crown, the suits in the film The Phoenician Scheme, and one of the colorful costumes for Wonka. Given this experience, he's more flexible than most tailors regarding what he's willing and able to make.
Still, I think it's always a good idea to stay close to the house style. I think of Taillour's house style as very soft but architectural in its lines. Nieddu uses a full body canvas and only a bit of laptair near the wearer's collar bone to prevent the jacket from sinking. The shoulders are minimally padded, giving the garments a very light feel. While Neapolitan tailors are known for a similar construction, Taillour's jackets have a bit more room and shape. The shoulder line is very straight, and the chest is slightly full. When combined with those characteristically straight lapels and larger jacket collar, I find Taillour's jackets have an angular appearance reminiscent of Apparel Arts drawings.
Consider Nieddu if you want a tailor who's a bit more flexible in terms of what they're willing to make (although, again, I recommend tweaking at the margins, not bringing in a photo of something and asking for it to be copied). He has also made clothes for women, which will be useful if you're looking for someone who can make a women's suit, sport coat, or overcoat.
Summer is around the corner and soon you'll read a bunch of tweets about how every man should have a pair of loafers.
I don't think anyone needs anything, but if you're shopping for a pair, let me show you how to think about loafers. This applies to any wardrobe item. 🧵
When it comes to choosing loafers, a simple answer will go something like this: "Such-and-such brand makes the best pairs." Or "Here's a hierarchy of loafers." IMO, such approaches are reductive and often devolve into trend or status pursuits.
Let me show you another approach.
As always, it's helpful to start at the beginning.
There are a few origin stories for loafers, but most lead back to Norway. If menswear lore is to be believed, then the penny loafer comes from a simple slip-on shoe known as the teser, which was once worn by Norwegian peasants.
Someone asked if I could tell them where to buy a pair of good chinos. In this thread, I will tell you, but my answer is not simple. On the upside, I think this is a better approach when shopping for clothes and you can apply it to any kind of item. 🧵
A simple answer will go something like this: "Such-and-such makes the highest quality chinos." Or "this brand provides the best value." While potentially useful in some respects, I don't think this gives you the fullest picture.
Instead, let's start at the beginning.
During the 1898 Spanish-American War, US troops stationed in the Philippines wore sand-colored pants made from a heavy cotton twill woven in China. Since the Philippines had been under Spanish colonial rule at this time, the locals call these "pantalones chinos" (Chinese pants).
One day, "It" will happen, by which I mean sudden and unexpected news that you want to celebrate. In such cases, you will want the right outfit. 🧵
What do I mean by "It?" I mean that joyous moments are not always something you can plan for. Perhaps you received a pay raise or got accepted at a waitlisted school. Perhaps a loved one is now cancer-free. Such moments can be sudden and unexpected — and you want to be prepared.
Of course, you can always celebrate in the same clothes you wear to bed. But IMO, this diminishes the moment. Thus, it's nice to special outfits for "It," even if you don't wear them all the time. It's similar to toasting a special glass of champagne and drinking water.
In the 1950s, Irving Penn traveled across London, Paris, and NYC to take portraits of workers in their work clothes. These clothes at the time were not considered glamorous — they would not have shown up on fashion runways — but they demonstrate a simple aesthetic principle 🧵
Consider these outfits. How do you feel about them? Are they charming? Repulsive? Stylish?
If you consider them charming and stylish, as I do, then ask yourself: what makes them charming and stylish? Why are you drawn to the outfits?
As I've mentioned before, I think outfits look better when they have "shape and drape." By shape, I mean the outfit confers a distinctive silhouette. If these men took off their clothes, we can reliably guess their bodies would not be shaped like this: