There are very few personalities in fashion who epitomise the idea of being comfortable in one’s own skin quite so directly as Patrick Johnson. Within minutes of setting foot inside the eponymous designer’s Paddington, Sydney, showroom – the flagbearer for an international brand that now has permanent locations in New York, London, and Australia – I find myself locked in conversation about the many underrated qualities of the sarong.

Evidently not one for the usual assortment of pre-interview pleasantries, I ask Johnson how it is that such a quintessentially Southeast Asian garment wound up in the P Johnson universe – better known for Tuscan-made tailoring and the louchest of sportswear. “We get a lot of requests from our Indonesian clientele,” he says, “especially for important Islamic festivals such as Eid [al-Fitr].” In the midst of realising their wishes, Johnson developed his own deep-seated appreciation for the style – perhaps, by his own admission, going ever so slightly overboard. “I was wearing sarongs so often over the summer,” he says, “that it got to a point where my wife had to tell me, ‘Just relax a bit.’ They’re such a great vector for fabric – a really interesting way in which to wear amazing colour and pattern, especially in the evenings.”

That easy, self-effacing demeanour belies the seriousness with which Johnson treats the actual work of making clothes: a fact that is much in evidence whether one looks at P Johnson’s custom-order business or burgeoning collection of off-the-rack designs. Though Johnson himself is a custodian of the Jermyn Street tradition – he studied shirtmaking under Robert Emmett until he was 27 – the P Johnson wardrobe is blissfully devoid of that canonical propriety that holds so many European tailors to ransom. In its place thrives a style that I’ve often felt best described as ‘wearable comfort food’: a mirepoix of breezy shirting, throw-on-and-forget techwear and tailoring silhouettes that inspire a fierce desire to book a coastal holiday.

In between a busy day of fittings earlier this month, I chatted with Johnson about the challenges of chasing ‘purity’ in design; how P Johnson’s business model is evolving in response to our turbulent times; and why, of all possibilities, the humble plimsoll is the ultimate shoe for summer.

ACM: To start, I heard an interesting anecdote about how 70 percent of P Johnson’s business now centres on casualwear. Does that still include any elements of traditional tailoring or are men, as a whole, severing their ties with sartorial clothing?

PJ: I think, for many of our clients, it isn’t so much about severing as it is mixing tailoring with other more casual elements really well. For example, two years ago, we developed this style called a quarter-zip that is, essentially, an outer layer that comes two-thirds of the way down your waist. It’s waterproof, made with an internally facing hidden pocket and was originally developed in tandem with a Japanese weaver that specialises in beautiful technical fabrics. We created that in response to what a lot of our clients were doing during the pandemic – walking. They needed a zip-up layer to wear on trails that would be breathable and protect them from rain, all while having sufficient space to stow their smartphones. Then we started styling these with all kinds of bits and pieces: suits, golf kit, even evening wear.

That idea, of putting amazing techwear in the company of tailoring, isn’t revolutionary – Prada is a fashion house that has excelled at it for a long time – but the ‘purity’ around our casualwear encourages clients to introduce it into their formal wardrobes in a way that feels sensical.

When we consider the notion of something classical that excels at being worn in a relaxed, contemporary way, outerwear is another really popular category.

One hundred percent. That’s why we’ve really enjoyed designing things like our polo coat, which is another consummate example of a highly tailored garment that goes above and beyond [in terms of wearability] once you visualise it outside its historic origin. We styled it a lot for the most recent PJ Tennis lookbook, and that has encouraged our clients to really embrace wearing tailored outerwear with tracksuits, sweats and the other stuff you generally gravitate toward on weekends.

You’ve used the word ‘purity’ a couple of times in reference to certain designs – is that a concept that can sometimes prove challenging for clients?

I think for men, more so than women. Our male clients often commission things based on their ‘place’ in the wardrobe – this idea that every piece of clothing has to fit into a predetermined category. The team and I prefer working in a way that’s elemental. Basically, what is the ultimate expression of this garment we’re looking at? At its best, how does it look, how does it operate, etc. Then we hone in on what we like, while trying to make as few compromises as possible: because, at the end of the day, things that are designed and made with this ‘pure’ philosophy tend to stand the test of time. A pair of peached cotton trousers in clay or cream – that’s something that exists beyond the cycle of fashion, that gives our clients room to express their own persona.

I guess that, in this context, the word ‘purity’ has a lot to do with going back to the origin of clothing – by that, I don’t mean X, Y or Z specific historical detail.

Right. The emphasis isn’t on purely recreating a design, as it existed at the point of inception.

No, not at all. I always tell my designers that whatever product we’re working on has to feel ‘pure’ for now: that means a certain light, comfortable fitness-for-purpose; and then the ability to be styled really well in various, unexpected ways.

Let’s move on now and talk about the release schedule you’ve favoured in recent years. In 2021, P Johnson unveiled four different monthly collections – equal parts casualwear and tailoring. What’s the thinking behind these compact product drops at regular intervals in the year?

When the pandemic was beginning to break on Australia’s shores [in 2020], our showrooms weren’t open – but we still needed a way to illustrate to our clients what they could order. Crucially, during that initial period of uncertainty, we paid a lot of attention to our clients’ needs. [We] would launch a small drop, for lack of a better word, in response and then see what their feedback was. That back-and-forth generated a lot of interest around specific activities – like tennis, for instance.

Initially, we made a pair of blue tennis shorts for those clients who play three to four times a week. Not long after that, we started to get multiple requests for different colourways and a womenswear version, so we thought, “Well, let’s do a couple of little drops every season.” We used a similar feedback-driven approach when we were developing the golf stuff as well.

Do you think this practice – frequently dropping small runs of clothing – has given you more freedom to experiment?

Oh, totally. The way we’re currently releasing gives us room to work on projects that are purely about fun and individual interest. Whether it’s homewares or the odd print tee, I’m always across stuff like that – ideas that aren’t all that commercially lucrative, but bound to appeal to a chunk of our clientele. That’s really the crux of our responsibility: to bring the sensation of beauty into their lives. Whether that be through clothing, a well-made glass of wine, fragrance – we’ve even helped plan quite a few holidays – it’s all about introducing our clients to stuff we find interesting and enriching. Though our new release schedule does play a part in that endeavour, it’s not a highly calculated strategy. Around 90 percent of what we produce is still made-to-order, if for no other reason than I hate the idea of waste: I hate the thought of making something that’s just going to sit by, neglected.

Let’s talk a bit more now about the clothing you’ve purposefully crafted for sporting activities. Are these collections, dedicated to golf, angling etc, set to be a pillar for the brand going forward?

I think it really just depends on our clients. Generally speaking, uptake on the PJ Sport stuff has been pretty good. Our golfing collection has been consistently popular, whereas the angling stuff does well with a specific subset of guys. My business partners Rob [Blythe] and Tom [Riley] are obsessive fishermen – to the point they insist you call what they do ‘angling’ as opposed to ‘fishing’ – so that whole collection started because Tommy was going out every weekend and wanted a utility vest. Then came a request for some shorts, a hat – we basically ended up designing an entire outfit for those who fish daily.

In the case of our tennis kit, the conception of it was much more social. Many of the guys at work play regularly, and once a week we all compete in a doubles’ competition as a business. But the tennis-specific sportswear out there is just awful. You take one look at it – all branded up and fluorescent – and just think…

“This is wholly unappealing?”

The thought of wearing stuff like that makes me a bit nauseous. So then, as usual, we delved deep into developing things like drawstring shorts and the ultimate polo – clothes that are amazing to play tennis in.

Are there any other sports or areas of athletic inspiration you’d be interested to tackle in future?

The big one we’re working on now is our alpine collection. Nominally, it’s about skiing, but we’re really embracing the après ski element – winter clothing that is functional but at the same time really good looking. Then, being here in Sydney, I can imagine a day when we’re going to tackle sailing, but all in good time. There’s no point in forcing this kind of work: feedback from our clients is an important part of the process, and we gradually iterate upon that with little bits and bobs.

What do you think the chief ingredient is for a successful collaboration? Do the brands you partner with – be they a champagne grower or hotel in Positano – have to fit into the pre-existing P. Johnson universe?

It’s an interesting question. When you look at us, relative to a lot of other brands, we haven’t done many collaborations. For us, working with others is about showing our appreciation – when we have a genuine relationship with somebody who makes something exceptional, that feels like it’s always been a part of our world. I mean, you’ve just mentioned a grower champagne and that was largely why we decided to work with Brémont at the end of last year…

It really is one of the ultimate libations, in victory and defeat.

Right. And because 2021 was a pretty grim year for many people, Tom and I – we met while studying winemaking at university – were determined to work on something celebratory. So we thought, “Let’s get a wine of immense purity for everybody.”

In Australia, for a long time we’ve gotten the dregs of the global champagne supply. A big part of the problem is that unless you’re spending crazy money, you’re getting a product that’s cut with way too much sugar. So when one of Tommy’s old colleagues, Charles Hargrave – quite possibly the best sparkling winemaker in Australia – suggested we speak to Anne and Thibaut [Brémont] about importing, things evolved naturally.

Emporio Sirenuse was the same: I’ve known [the owners] Carla and Antonio Sersale for a very long time; and in the course of staying at their house, staying at their hotels, struck up a long-lasting relationship. When they released their first run of swim shorts, I was all too happy to help. Then, when the pandemic hit, the goal became “what can we do to pull attention to Le Sirenuse?”. We’re now fortunate to sell our knitwear in the Sersale family’s boutiques and even commissioned a few sculptures to celebrate our long-distance relationship, but the process of getting those projects off the ground takes time – it should unfold naturally.

We’ve never sought out collaboration purely for the sake of growth, to corner more followers on social media or anything like that. Sometimes you’ll be in conversation with another brand – whose vision and craft you absolutely love – but in the process realise they have a story perfectly worth telling on its own. What’s that thing great artists have always said? “The hardest thing about painting is knowing when to finish.”

Moving away from collabs and squarely back into the realm of designing, we’ve noticed a lot of knits, zip-ups and kurta (tunics) making their way into the collections. Do you think that ‘comfort’ is an essential paradigm for making desirable clothing?

Whether it’s menswear or the PJ Femme stuff, comfort has and always will remain at the forefront for me. It’s a bit of a truism, but if you don’t feel comfortable, then your clothes are always going to wear you. I like that one of the ultimate measures for clothing is whether you can put it on, forget about it and then get on with the more interesting things in life. Let’s be honest: clothes keep you cool or warm and protect you from the elements, but they’re a far cry from the most important thing in the world – hopefully, you’re wearing them in the process of meaningful pursuits.

But yes, comfort is king – especially since we’re based in Australia. The lifestyle is such that you’ve got to be comfortable: it’s very hot here in the summer, people play a lot of sport, and there’s always the suggestion of going to the beach.

Given the continuing challenges of #WorkFromHome, how are you and the team bridging the gap between the P Johnson experience on and offline?

When we started the brand in 2009, one of our aims was to help people get dressed in a way that felt relaxed and catered to their needs – it’s much harder to do that when you can’t meet face-to-face. That’s why when the pandemic kicked off, we started producing fun little videos across our social channels – some with me talking product, others with Tommy talking wine. It was our way of reassuring clients, of saying, “It’s all cool; don’t be intimidated.” By walking our clients through our new releases in a really digestible format and style, we hoped it would relax them.

With social distancing, there was also the challenge of how we do the technical part of our job – measuring somebody and so on. For us, it wasn’t about using shortcuts like body scanning – which, by the way, doesn’t really work – and more about things like Zoom, FaceTime and WeChat. In the last two years, we’ve conducted remote fittings for our clients using sample garments and a tape measure, often getting their partners involved in the process, and then worked hard at being effective communicators. I mean, thank God that’s temporary, because at the end of the day we adore retail – I love seeing people inhabiting our physical spaces.

What is it that you missed the most about conducting fittings and styling in person?

There’s just a ritual quality in physical retail that you can’t experience elsewhere. Don’t get me wrong – e-commerce obviously has its place, and I take nothing away from those companies that editorialise and execute the whole process of shopping online really well. But if you think of a retailer like SKP Beijing [last year it overtook Harrods to become the biggest department store by annual turnover] what they’ve focused on creating is a destination. It’s like Disneyland for aesthetes: there’s a fair bit of VR, the retail environment is steeped in art and the technology on show is meant to enhance how shoppers interact with the space. You end up wanting to take a token of that experience away with you. We’re currently in the process of redeveloping this site [in Sydney] for next year, and the sensation we want to give our clients is something along those lines.

As somebody who has worked across multiple fashion-related disciplines, how do you feel about the growing influence of luxury watches in the industry?

I think that specifically in the universe of menswear, watches have always been a sort of go-to analogue for jewellery. Most people who are honest with themselves will admit we don’t wear watches for the exclusive purpose of telling time – there’s such a broad spectrum of design and complexity that’s meant for self-expression.

There’s all the hard-edged modern stuff, of course, though I tend to really enjoy old watches. You look at some of the best examples, and they just ooze so much beauty and charm.

Do you believe that, as design objects, they’re capable of the same ‘purity’ that’s so prized in, say, a handmade suit or knitwear? Is there a similar sort of energy?

Oh, in some ways more so than in clothing – largely because we tend to perceive watches as prized possessions. It’s not necessarily even about status: it’s more to do with this stuff’s connective potential – to start a conversation between you and me, because we have a mutual appreciation.

And as I said before, watches are a very easy way to channel some of the glamour of jewellery, even if you’re not the kind of guy who wears a lot of the latter. My wife for instance bought me a 1936 Reverso, that I absolutely love wearing with evening wear. It sounds a bit naff, but when I put that watch on – small, gold, beautifully slim – there is a feeling of being transported into a simpler time. Well, simpler, but certainly not easier: tuberculosis was a real bummer back then.

Before we call it a day, I wanted to briefly circle back to menswear. Aside from scouring previous P Johnson campaigns for inspiration, what are some simple yet effective ways of mixing sportswear together with tailoring?

You can find so much inspiration in movies. I think that’s because you have the time to fall into a world and explore it. In terms of some really good ones, there’s Gattaca and American Gigolo; even weirder fare like Road House.

Peak 1980s Patrick Swayze.

In its defence, the costume design is really quite good. Then obviously there are plenty of beautiful Italian productions from around the same era: La Riffa being a great example – that whole film is a love letter to Monica Bellucci.

I’ve often felt that there’s an advantage in the medium of cinema, because a good costume designer is pulling bits and pieces to serve the overarching tone of the film – so everything feels more congruent.

Yeah. And unlike brands that are trying to sell you a seasonal style or a specific collection, clothes on film are supposed to say something about the journey of a character – you can concentrate on the beauty of what’s being worn.

Aside from that, I think it’s really helpful for clients to look at historic brand campaigns. The old Ralph [Lauren] and Armani catalogues are great for formulating an understanding of how outfits come together – a lot of what you see in there could easily be reinterpreted for today.

Let’s end on a fun note: what are two or three articles – including but not necessarily restricted to clothing – that you’ve really enjoyed wearing over the summer?

I’ve been really into necklaces as of late. My wife bought me an old Cartier chain for my 40th birthday, called an Equestrian, that’s no longer made, and I tend to hang a couple rings off it which have been given to me by friends. Mind you, I look a little bit like Liberace when they’re on my fingers so this is quite a nice, slightly more discreet way of wearing them.

Quite a big, Rococo-esque vibe – and what about apparel?

Plimsolls are another staple during the summer. The ones made by Asahi [a sneaker brand based in Japan] are my favourite. Actually, it was this really interesting old rocker by the name of Gerry Beckley – he was in the band America – who first introduced me to Asahi. He has the most incredible collection of canvas sneakers, sourced from back in the days when he used to tour around Japan. A while ago, he gave me a pair of Asahi plimsolls and said, “Try these, I reckon you’ll like ’em,” and he was spot on. You’ll basically wear them nonstop through summer: kick the back down, treat them like slides; and when they’re really worn, just put them in the washing machine.

Would you say that this is the kind of object that almost looks better when it’s been beaten to hell?

Yeah, because they’ve got that character. Then when you get to the stage where you can’t even wash them anymore, Gerry taught me this great trick: rip the laces out, sew some elastic under the tongue and wear them like you would slip-ons.

Who knows what new thing I’ll be obsessed with next season? Being in Australia, it’s probably going to be the sort of kit that I can envision myself ‘living in’ for the duration of our summer holidays.