Bulletin Board 38

An “endgame” Rolex, style rules from a French linen merchant and a Scottish fish soup perfect for winter

Happy New Year gang! It’s good to be back here after a couple of weeks off—holidays were spent at Wm Brown Farm, indulging in too much Edwards’ Clam Dip, cocktails, and my mom’s arsenal of sweets. Now we’re in the Médoc, and after one last blast on New Year’s Eve doing my riff on the Caviar Kaspia potato, we’re in detox mode. Taking lessons from our fasting weeks at Buchinger, we’re doing all soup for a week. It’s been great, surprisingly, and I’m going to write all about that in next weekend’s post. Do let me know in the comments if there are any subjects you want us to tackle here. Here’s to a great 2025! —Matt

WRIST CHECK

The Watch: Rolex 5513 MilSub issued to the British Royal Navy in 1975.

The Owner: Greg Petronzi, watchmaker and creator of TrueDome.

The Story: The MilSub is a watch that I frankly never thought I would be able to own. It was always something that I pined after. There was a time in my life when I thought I might never even get to see one in person. Fast forward several years later into my life of collecting and I realized that I had developed enough of a collection of watches that if I sold most of them off, I actually could afford a MilSub.

So, I started taking that idea seriously because it was always an “endgame” watch for me. And I found one, a nice example, that came up at auction at Bonhams. They sent it around the world for viewing and I looked at it and it was a non-full spec example because it was missing a bezel insert. But because of my position in the watch world and servicing with the friends that I have, I was lucky enough to know someone that had a bezel that he was open to selling. So I thought this might be great and an opportunity for me to get into a really phenomenal example without having to pay full spec money. I still paid up for it, but I was able to obtain that insert and what’s on the watch now is completely full spec.

I still look at the watch and think to myself, “I can't believe I have this thing.” It's like having a piece of history on my wrist every time I look at the time. And 90% of when I'm looking at it, I actually have no idea what time it is just because I'm so taken by the watch. One of the things I love so much about it is that it's an important watch and yet you wouldn't look twice at it if you didn't know what it was. Even for a watch person, from about 10 feet away it just looks like a regular Sub with a nylon strap on it. And I like that. I like the fact that it's under the radar. It's subtle, but yet it has so much history and importance in the world of horology and in the Rolex playbook.

So I've gone from just being a fan, looking at these things online years and years ago, thinking “Gee, I wonder if I'll ever see these in person,” to not only owning one, but also being able to work on them. I just feel grateful for that opportunity and I'm reminded of that every time I look at it.

MY UNIFORM

Nathan Hellard might be the most interesting man in the linen trade. A graduate of France’s elite Saint-Cyr Military Academy, he hung up his metaphorical sword to pursue the life of a linen merchant instead, founding Maison Hellard in 2021. In the years since, the literal mom-and-pop operation—which consists of Nathan, his parents, and his loyal cocker spaniel Vaillant—has gained a cult following among tailors worldwide for the quality of its cloth and its unique color palette inspired by Nathan's native countryside in Southwest France (for the full story, read our profile of Nathan in the fall issue of Wm Brown). Below, we asked Nathan—who's been working on some collaborative Wm Brown linens inspired by vintage French military uniforms and hunting tweeds—to share his uniform. —Eric Twardzik

What is your standard color palette, and does it change seasonally?
I was in the army before, so the very principle of color palette has long been a no-brainer. Later, when I lived in Asia, I dressed far bolder—lighter hues, playful combinations of accessories and such—but that feels like a different era altogether now. Returning to the countryside brought me back to my old habits, and I think it’s for the better.

My way of dressing these days—what I’d confidently call definitive—is simpler and feels far truer to my personality. It’s all about blending in with my native Southwest, focusing on a handful of high-quality garments rather than complex combinations that take too much thinking. Natural, earthy tones like greens, browns, and neutrals are my go-to. Admittedly, it can seem a bit sombre as the warmer days come around (especially for a linen merchant), but there’s something reassuring about being comfortable and having a wardrobe that works all year.

Wardrobe basics?
Oxford and chambray shirts, year-round. There’s something magical about a well-cut shirt: it’s all you need to look impeccably dressed. Personally, I prefer them rather roomy, or as one of my clients once said, “Schwarzenegger style.” I’ll happily take that as a compliment.

Favorites in the following categories…

Trousers
If I’m not wearing my trusty Momotaro jeans, I’ll turn to the stunning trousers the team at Berluti cut for me. Florian Sirven and his workshop achieved the near-impossible task of making it look like I have actual shapes down there. As Florian puts it, making a good pair of trousers is the hardest part of tailoring, and he focuses on creating a sexy silhouette. It’s the kind of language you usually hear in womenswear, but let’s not hide it—it’s no bad thing for some of us, me included.

Knitwear
I’m fortunate to visit my friend John Sugden up near Inverness now and then, for sport. His shop, Campbell’s of Beauly, is not only a tweed paradise but also the finest place I know for knitwear. Believe me, it comes in handy in bonnie Scotland. On my last visit, I picked up a polo neck out of pure survival instinct, and it’s now one of my favorite pieces. Turtlenecks often fade or pile, especially against a beard, but theirs are superbly made. The yarn makes it a versatile garment, too. It’s a beautiful loden green—a classic—but as John once told me, “Lord of Loden rules these lands,” so it’s no surprise.

Footwear
I own several pairs of shoes, but I mostly stick to two. I have a few from Edward Green—undeniably stunning pieces of art—but my everyday shoes are a pair of penny loafers from Loake. They’ve been through a lot, believe me, and they sum up my philosophy on dressing rather well. Yes, Crockett & Jones’ Coniston boots are beautiful, and yes, wearing Edward Green feels like a privilege, but I love not having to think about it. Will it rain? Will someone step on my foot? I don’t care much. These loafers are as close as I’ll get to the ranger’s boots I wore in the army—reliable, practical, and effortlessly comfortable.

Neckwear
I rarely wear neckwear these days, but when I do, it’s always Drake’s. There are other companies doing excellent work—like Dreaming of Monday, whom I’d happily recommend—but I have a personal connection with Drake’s. Michael Hill was the first to help me when I wanted to join the industry. We never ended up working together, but I still remember my visits to their office/shop on Haberdasher Street (the shopkeeper must have thought I was mad, obsessively checking every single item). I still have the first tie I bought there. It’s my power accessory—when I wear it, it means business.

Outerwear
I’m not sure if this really qualifies as outerwear, but I never travel without the “Borestière” my friend Christophe from Chato Lufsen made for me. We used one of our fabrics—a very dark brown from our Nuit Parisienne capsule—and I just love it. It’s well made, roomy, and incredibly comfortable, especially thanks to our soft linen. It’s the sort of garment that doesn’t shout but is endlessly versatile and quietly elegant— and very French. The first forestières were created for the architect Le Corbusier, and if they were good enough for him, then they’re certainly good enough for me—trying to keep a low profile and shake hands in Florence.

Travel Kit?
A sturdy olive green Filson 48-hour bag. I never empty it, so everything I need is always packed and ready to go, no matter the trip. It’s completely changed the way I travel—no more last-minute panicking about where this or that is. As for garments, the simpler the better. I’ve yet to find anything that rivals trousers in fresco wool from our friends at Huddersfield Fine Worsteds—though our soon-to-be-launched linen and fresco blend might just prove a worthy contender—and a good old oxford shirt (still from Drake's). I may not be the tidiest merchant when I visit our clients on Savile Row, but I like to think that is part of the French charm (and impertinence).

THE KITCHEN

One of my favorite things to eat on a visit to Scotland is a hearty fish soup oddly enough called Cullen Skink. Cullen Skink is traditionally made with smoked haddock, onions and potatoes in a creamy, milky broth. The soup is named after the Northeastern Scottish town of Cullen and a skink is the Scottish term for a knuckle or shin of beef, so most hearty soups made of these ingredients were called skink. I am currently in France where a cold snap inspired me to make my version of this delicious creation. I am using cod with the additions of a few diver scallops I had in the fridge but you can use the traditional smoked haddock if you have it or even wild salmon in a pinch (and if you want to add a little smokiness without smoked haddock, a strip of streaky bacon works in a pinch). I used crème fraiche and leeks, but you can substitute with heavy cream and onion. It makes a terrific lunch with a chunk of crusty bread and a dry white wine, like a white Bordeaux, if you like. I like!

Cullen Skink

Ingredients

1-1.5 lbs of fish of choice (I used fresh cod)
1 lb of potatoes chopped small with skin
4 cups milk (about)
6 cloves of chopped garlic
3 small leeks (mostly the white bit) chopped (or one large onion)
4 sprigs of tarragon or 3 tablespoons dried
2 sprigs of fresh thyme or 1 tablespoon of dry
One bay leaf
¼ cup crème fraiche (or ¼ cup of heavy cream)
Butter
One lemon to zest and juice
Water

Prep

First: In a heavy pot add a knob of butter and sauté the leeks and garlic until transparent—do not brown! Add potatoes, ½ cup of water and cook for around 5-6 minutes. Take off heat and cover.

Next: Poach this fish in a pan large enough to accommodate the fish covered in milk. Add bay leaf, a couple sprigs of tarragon and thyme (if fresh these can be bundled and tied) and poach fish until soft and flaky (around 20 min or so) This is a simmer not a boil!

Remove fish from the pan, put in a bowl and flake with a fork. Remove the herbs from the milk or strain if using dry and reserve the poaching milk

Return the pot of leeks and potatoes to a medium heat. Add your poaching milk, your fish, and your crème fraiche. Add a bit of lemon zest and a half squeeze of lemon. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

You can adjust your favored consistency here by adding more milk if you like. Remember that this is to your liking—adjust it if to if you prefer thicker like a stew or soupier.

Cook gently for an additional 30 minutes or until potatoes are soft.

Serve in a shallow bowl with the addition of chopped tarragon and a chunk of your favorite crusty bread, and oh, don’t forget the wine.

Serves 4-6