Millard (Mickey) Drexler is living one of the great second acts of American business. In the 1990s, he was retailing’s merchant prince, running The Gap and convincing the world that khakis and T-shirts were the new corporate dress code. But after the dot-com bubble burst, bringing business-casual down with it, Gap sales tanked and Drexler was fired. In 2003, he resurfaced as CEO of J.Crew—at the time, losses at the company totalled $40 million (U.S.), nearly quadruple what they had been a year earlier. Despite a deep recession and brutal competition online, Drexler set about turning around the retailer’s fortunes. This summer, J.Crew opened its first international store, in Toronto, and as many as 30 other outposts are planned worldwide. In person, Drexler is as kinetic as a grade-schooler. The only hint that he’s 67 years old is the grey in his facial stubble, which he somehow manages to constantly maintain as five o’clock shadow. He’s dressed in his workday uniform: jeans, an undershirt and an untucked buttoned-down shirt. Inside J.Crew’s nerve centre in downtown Manhattan, Drexler talks about trusting your taste, why he revered Steve Jobs, and why—despite his good fortune—he’s just as “scared shitless” about the economy as everybody else.
J.Crew just finished its first show at New York Fashion Week. It’s unusual for a brand like yours to attend. Why did you bother?
[J.Crew’s creative director] Jenna Lyons, my partner, wanted to do it. She thought it would be good exposure. She wanted to show the fashion press what we do, which I was totally for. I’m partial, but I think we have clothes that are a lot more wearable than any runway show in the world. How many people actually connect to the clothes they see on runways? It worked if the clothes sell. The initial intention was to get attention to our clothes and what we do. And that, for sure, worked.
You have said that J.Crew has a very clear brand. How do you define it?
J.Crew is for people who have a sense of style and taste that’s important to them. They want clothes that are wearable, that they can emotionally connect to. These people care about how they look. They care about the cars they drive, the colour of their cars. They want a product of great integrity, meaning the maker of those products does the best they can do—fabric-wise, detail-wise, button-wise—to make the goods work. Fashion is a popular sport. Women love to shop and they love clothes. We try and offer the best we can for that customer.
But how do you know what’s going to work? Is it luck, a shot in the dark?
It’s intuition, it’s DNA, it’s genetic. I was watching a show on CNBC about BMW the other day, and one of their guys was asked the same sort of question. The thing is, they have 400 designers. We have myself and Jenna and a design team. Part of it is seeing around corners. You kind of need to know where the world is headed.
Do you do this consciously and intentionally, or does it just happen?
It’s not conscious. For example, what I’m trying to do right now is simplify the act of dressing. So, three years ago, we launched our Ludlow suit for men. It’s the jacket I was wearing when I walked in here. It’s more narrow, double-vented, two buttons. Selling great.
