Bulletin Board 47

Ideas for Father’s Day, style lessons from Down Under and an ode to the Saab 900

WM BROWN GEAR

Left: The Japanese denim apron and hybrid trucker dad hat. Right: White Bic, complete with the Wm Brown target logo.

We’re just four weeks out from Father’s Day, which makes now the ideal time to get the wheels turning on a gift for dad (or for yourself—forward this on to your significant other/kid.) Dads may not be the easiest to buy for—but if your own happens to be a Wm Brown fan, that task just got a whole lot easier.
We’ve got some great Wm Brown-branded merch available on our new website, including solid brass enameled lapel pins, Japanese denim aprons, a hybrid trucker dad hat (very appropriate), and even a simple white Bic lighter with our target logo (great if you and dad typically keep gifts low-key). 

Left: Hemingsworth safari shirt jacket. Right: The Higgins shirt.

Or, maybe dad is a style guy. We’ve been collaborating with my friends at Hemingsworth for years now, and our ongoing capsule with the British maker includes some really good stuff: we did two linen safari shirts—the summer-weight Higgins and the slightly heavier Hamilton—both of which have the classic four-pocket set-up that makes it great on a fishing or hunting trip (I even wore the Hamilton last fall while gator hunting in Louisiana, which you can read all about in the forthcoming summer issue!). We also did a white cotton drill safari shirt jacket that can be worn as either, and features some truly heavy-duty bellows pockets. Lastly—I know this might be daring—but we also have stock in our tropical short, which I insisted they make with a 3.5” inseam. If dad’s ever been a fan of Magnum P.I., this one’s for him!

SAAB STORY

We’re partial to a good Saab story here at Wm Brown. So when my friend Jonathan Petrino—an always on-the-move travel writer, photographer and sometime tech exec—reached out with the story behind his dream 900, I knew we had something good. Read on for Jonathan’s salute to the often-underrated maker and one of its most iconic models.

I've always been a “car guy” - whatever that means. But for years, living in a high-rise in downtown Chicago meant space was limited and dreams of owning something fun and classic took a backseat. And, when I finally made the move out west, practicality ruled the day, and I made the drive in a Volvo SUV. A great car, don’t get me wrong, but not exactly what you’d call “inspiring.”

That changed one day when I stumbled upon an article about a man in Japan who restores old Mercedes models and uses them as daily drivers. There was something about the slow restoration process and the connection to the past—I was inspired. I wanted something older and something European. My only firm criteria: it had to be from the ’80s, and it had to have a stick shift.

This was during the pandemic-era used car boom, so my search turned up slim pickings. But one listing stood out: a 1988 Saab 900, 5-speed. Saab had always been a quirky, niche brand, an underdog with charm and oddities that never really caught on with the masses. And that’s exactly why I loved it.

Funny enough, my first car was a Saab. One of my first jobs when I was in high school in upstate New York was at a used car garage that specialized in them (I’d wash the cars and run parts). So when I saw this 900, it spoke to something nostalgic in me.

Of course, it needed a certain amount of imagination when I went to see it. The tires were rotted, trim was missing, the dash was cracked from years of baking in the sun, and the cabin smelled faintly (or not so faintly) of a gas leak. Most would advise a thorough inspection before buying, and they’d be right. But the truth is, I was sold the moment I saw it, warts and all.

It turned out to be every bit the project I wanted, and more. The fuel leak turned out to be from a high-pressure line…gas poured out seemingly endlessly in my garage one night. Electrical gremlins killed the engine at stop lights. The car had crank windows, a questionable temperature gauge not to be trusted, and while spirited, it’s not what you’d describe as a traditionally ‘fast’ car. Parts were rare, mechanics even rarer.

But over time and with some sweat and patience (and money) it took shape: the tires were replaced, the fuel system repaired, and the electrical issues traced back to a bad ground (or two). Slowly, the car came back to life. It became my Sunday morning coffee cruiser.

And what a cruiser it is. The ignition is in the floor between the seats. It has glorious '80s pop-out rear windows, a power antenna, and a cargo space that’s shockingly massive with the seats folded. The under-hood labels are printed in Swedish, and the wheels are directional—different part numbers for each side, left and right.

Owning a Saab in this day and age isn’t an accident. It’s intentional. And because of that, every encounter with people feels like a secret handshake. They wave, shout “Nice Saab!”, and share their own stories. Occasionally, they say it was their first car. “Mine too,” I reply.

I’ve thought about selling it. Maybe replacing it with a Porsche…something faster, more refined. But passions aren’t practical. This car connects me to my youth. And every time I turn the key, I smile. Sure, it’s 37 years old, has over 220k miles, and always needs something. But it’s mine, and I’ve brought it back to life.

If you’re thinking of taking on a similar project, I say go for it…if you’ve got the space, the time, and the patience. These cars pop up occasionally on enthusiast auction sites, but thankfully mine didn’t. It was just sitting there on a used car lot waiting for someone to give it a new life.

And if you're not ready to own one, you can still enjoy Saabs on screen. They've had roles just as thoughtfully cast as the actors in Sideways, Seinfeld, and Drive My Car, to name a few.

If you’re a Saab person, please do reach out and say hello. —Jonathan Petrino

DRESS CODE

At a time when algorithms and social media conspire to flatten everything into the same “look,” it’s rare to find guys doing something genuinely interesting and new. But Steve Calder, founder of the Melbourne-based indie label Informale, is one of them. We’ve long admired the way he mixes together workwear and military styles in ways that feel like they can stand-in for tailoring (a sensibility shared by his label), and so subjected him to our “Dress Code” questionnaire to see what we might all learn from Calder’s novel point of view.

How early do you remember being interested in clothing—and how?

When I was a shy 15-year-old kid, my extreme extrovert dad got me a job at a local menswear store. The following year, thanks to the access to nicer clothes and the need to converse with adults, I underwent a complete transformation in attitude and confidence. It set me on the path I’m still on today.

How would you describe your personal style in two words?

Tailored, casual.

If you have a uniform, what does it look like?

Chore jacket, T-shirt, jeans, loafers. Details matter—the chore jacket is a 1940s military style made up in a textured HBT fabric; the T-shirt has a high neckline and enough heft to drape elegantly; the jeans are Japanese selvedge with a high rise and clean drape from ass to hem; the loafers are suede, unlined and handsewn.

Who was your style icon when you were young?

I always loved Pierce Brosnan’s James Bond. Elegant, effortless and extremely cool.

Who is your style icon now?

I draw inspiration from so many people and sources—I don’t have just one style icon. Many of my biggest inspirations are friends who are so understated that they don’t use social media. Hard to believe! If I had to choose one, however, it would be my good mate and Melbourne local Nami (@nvmimvn).

How often do you edit your closet, and how?

My wardrobe evolves slowly, shaped by vintage finds and new styles we release. Well-worn clothing is the best clothing, so I try to keep wearing and repairing my gear for years and years. I usually only part with pieces when they no longer fit - a point of pride, as I started training at 29 and have managed to stay consistent, which means a slow increase in mass (and clothing size) every few years.

What's your travel kit?

Airport fit: utility vest (pockets!), cotton sweater, wool easy trousers and Baudoin & Lange Sagan Strides. IYKYK.

Essentials: Rolex Explorer II for the GMT function, AirPods, phone charger and a good magazine.

Is there an article of clothing you got rid of but wish you'd kept?

I’m about to grow out of my custom deerskin G-1 flight jacket with detachable shearling collar, a winter favourite since 2018. I’m devastated.

What would you never, ever part with?

My 90’s Omega Speedmaster Reduced. My first “nice watch,” it’s a reminder of the early days and proving to myself that anything is possible.

What style rule is worth breaking?

Rules are annoying. Break’em all, tastefully.

Which isn't? 

Nonchalance isn’t a rule necessarily, but it should be. Don’t be so rigid. Relax a little.

If you had to buy from a single designer/brand for life, it would be…

No budget? Cucinelli.

What independent designer/store deserves more attention?

Sole traders and craftspeople who do it for the love, they are the MVPs. As a consumer it’s important to seek out and support these people. Olake comes to mind - a Melbourne based maker whose travel bags and chore jackets are insanely good. I can’t help but also think of my friend Massimo Pasinato, one of Italy’s best tailors based in Vicenza, Italy. Every shop who stocks Informale is worth supporting too—all independent and have good taste, clearly.

What style advice would you give your younger self now?

Buy less, and buy better. You’ll chase trends because that’s part of the journey. Save up and invest in great quality clothing and shoes that hold their value over time, so when your style evolves, you can pass them on to the next enthusiast and help fund something new.