*note: On October 11th, the lost+found officially renamed the store to Signet:
I always finish my homecoming trips to the Philippines with a renewed love for country. On my first trip back at twelve years old, it was waking up in the room that lulled me to sleep until my sister and I turned two. At eighteen, it was swimming through the teeming abundance of life within the coral reefs in Mindoro. And last week, sharing a breakfast table with three co-owners of an ambitious menswear shop, it was meeting the men responsible for giving the culture of Philippine menswear exactly what it needs.
Culture. Without bias, the Philippines has one of the most beautiful in the world. However, to ask me to explain why is to ask me something I cannot do adequately. What I can share is that Filipino culture is firmly woven together by an eclectic mill. Local and foreign hands have pushed and pulled over every fabric of the country’s identity – from dialects to dinner plates – since before these seven thousand islands bannered under one name. As a result, a typical dish like adobo will have regional variations from seasoning to cooking method, but it is nevertheless the very batch of simmering meat that every Pinoy rushes home to. The mill creates at-once different and the same, and lost+found’s Jason Qua, Edmond Lim and Kevin Yapjoco currently have their hands at the loom.
“We take brands that have been lost, and we give them a place.” The current problem of Philippine menswear is the lack of artisans in the scene. The great makers of clothing, with the weight of history and honest work in every stitch, have no Philippine storefront to offer their investments. Name-brand or knockoff name-brand has always taken the only share of menswear, with elders passing down the notion that an ideal gentleman’s uniform consisted of Tommy Hilfiger labels visible from shoe tongue to breast pocket. However much men opt to play it safe with endorsing themselves in brands that would speak for their net worth, there’s a community that desires something more substantial.
Enter Menswear Syndicate: a monthly gathering of personal style with the simple goal of bringing Manila-area enthusiasts the space to share. The members of the Syndicate are men and women cut from different cloths — Neapolitan shoulders, raw stiff denim cuffs, oxford collar buttons — but with common purpose they demonstrate the mirror shine of a toe cap, introduce the legacy of one father’s career as a master tailor, while speaking the culture of menswear all the same. The mill was weaving, and before long out came lost+found.
And so the spirit of the monthly meet ups laid the foundation for this new haberdasher. With the wisdom of the jolliest of uncles, Edie spun yarns about his romance with using old machines to craft a sturdy pair of denim, from the pretty little mistakes of a stitch to the hand-selected rivets that finished the bench work. Kevin imparted the advice of one veteran menswear blogger to a kid with a lot of questions, all with the coolness that paired well with his hand-dyed Indonesian short-sleeve. Jason recounted his time as a student in Shanghai and his own journey into the trade of cloth, an endeavor equally rewarding as his contributions to Bronuts, a Manila bakery that satisfies the local desire for the croissant doughnut hybrid. The divergent tastes of the lost+found team recognized individualism and found a collaboration worth sharing to members of the Syndicate and beyond.
With different perspectives of menswear, lost+found aims to utilize this collective mindset and create something new within its shop. A sample inventory list of Drake’s neckties, The Flat Head selvedge jeans, Carmina loafers and Billykirk mechanic belts may suggest a little something for everybody, but lost+found has no plans to open a mini-department store of conveniently segregated menswear genres. No, the minders of the shop plan to challenge visitors with the idea that you can throw your toe off any line and make something bold, something collaborative, something of things once lost and now found.
But for now, we must wait. lost+found is, at the moment, a home without a house. Stocks of wingtips, denim jackets and accessories have been ordered and shipped, and the men are in pursuit for the right storefront to host them. After brunch, Jason, Kevin and Edie invited me to take a look at a possible home at the other side of the building. The space was far from ready; fresh joint compound spread along cold concrete walls and the corners of the floor were assigned to collect dust and plastic. Standing at the doorway, I watched as the three took snapshot glances around the room, then at each other, then back to scan the walls.
Within a few months, lost+found will be a complete shop to host future Menswear Syndicates, to impart new lessons, to create new enthusiasts, to foster personal style. I was standing at the mill of a culture I was so eager to ask about, and in front of me stood the raw fabrics that in time shall weave something wonderful.
