Second only to the accursed ‘pop-up’, the term ‘boutique’ is bandied about with new retail ventures so needlessly and consistently that it has become virtually bereft of all meaning. And yet – vitriol aside – it’s hard to think what else you’d call a place like Hostem.
It is an independent retail store, that’s for sure. And it does carry a select line of left-of-centre, slightly edgy designers. But the most delightful and ‘boutique’-worthy aspect (term be damned) of the latest addition to the Shoreditch retail scene is the sheer cohesion of its vision.
It’s taken Hostem’s owner James Brown almost two years to open this new store at the top of Redchurch Street. Two years of lease negotiations and red tape. But even two years late, the timing still seems perversely perfect – perhaps even better than if he had managed to open it when he first saw the space. Scant few years ago, Redchurch Street was still the near-exclusive domain of ‘urban art galleries’ (the previous tenants of the Hostem building among them), semi-affordable flats and a sole, cherished local pub (even if the landlord could be a grumpy bugger towards the trendy locals, that was part of its charm). Brick Lane was already spilling its various, mostly soulless wares out onto its union with Bethnal Green Road, and Shoreditch House was about the most luxurious thing in the immediate area.
Skip forwards to 2010 and there’s a tangibly different air to the little backstreet. Turn off Shoreditch High Street just before the grotty ‘gentlemen’s pub’ on the corner and immediately the raucous energy of the main road is replaced by something more accepting, more forgiving, more charming. The pretty modern chitz of Caravan; the benchtop coffee-tasting of Square Mile Coffee’s Penny University; the peacefulness of Aesop and their gorgeous scents. Then Sunspel’s vintage casual-wear; Conran’s dual-functioning Albion restaurant and Boundary hotel. Pass the back of Shoreditch House on your right, the recently purchased Owl and Pussycat pub (note to the new owners, if you’re reading this: please nothing too posh, I beg you. What the street really needs is a local drinkery with heart and not some identikit gastro-rubbish) and the massive three-floor Aubin and Wills with its vast Urban Outfitters-esque layout and luxurious sofa-seated cinema. It would seem that, like moss, luxury really does grow on you. Even here, out East – where the fingers of regeneration and change are creeping ever further up towards Brick Lane.
Where else in the fashion zoo that is Shoreditch can a chap go for top-notch independent menswear? In terms of immediate competition the pickings are slim: Present on Shoreditch High Street, Albam on the border of Spitalfield Market, Start on Rivington Street, maybe Child of Jago for more conceptual higher-end clothing. But that’s about it…
Since they’ve opened at such a curious point in the year – slap in the middle of the summer sale season – the best of their stock is still hiding in the basement, waiting for the autumnal season to really shine. And yet, even with a paired down Spring/Summer offering, the most striking aspect to the store is the continuity between the styling of the clothes and the space itself. The interior – created by artist/designer duo James Plumb – feels so complete that it’s more like an installation or a dream home than a shop. The store itself is split into three areas that flow elegantly together, the same overriding love-worn aesthetic, reclaimed timber floorboards and attention to detail remaining constant throughout.
Situated on a corner at the top of Redchurch Street, the shop is split into three very distinct spaces: The first is bright and clean, its enormous windows flooding the room with light, the rails and low tabletop displaying brighter, slightly more street-inspired designers like Visvim, Mastermind Japan and Adam Kimmel.
The clothes in the darker second room, meanwhile, melt into the grey hessian walls. Rick Owen’s soft, supple leathers hang nonchalantly from scuffed old ladders. The reclaimed floorboards glow amber beneath floor-height hanging bulbs. A cement-filled satchel displays a pair of creatively-battered shoes. Grey cashmeres hang from antique-style bare metal rails. Artfully scuffed boots stand proudly in the window on a half-stripped bench while an antique wheel-barrow is reimagined as a comfortable corner seat from which to peruse the forthcoming library of 1st edition books.
And to the rear of the building, in the bright third space tucked behind the changing-room with its handheld mining-style lamp, a pot of fresh coffee is brewing, its bitter-chocolate scent floating throughout the store on a light summer breeze. This last room will also be home to a rotating line-up of visiting designers.
With its refashioned antique fittings balanced by irrepressibly modern clothing, its intelligent arrangement of space and playful approach to retail, Hostem is as much a moment of reclaimed, escapist suburbia as it is bleeding-edge urban design. And all of this wrapped in the soft blanket of faultless luxury.
But there’s a fine line sometimes between luxury and chi-chi. Mayfair’s Mount Street, for example, can often veer towards the latter. While by contrast Lamb’s Conduit Street handles the balance with much more finesse. Despite its famed sense of quirky independence, it manages to fend off pretension with the big stick of relaxed accessibility – a local place for local people, as it were. And in this sense, Redchurch Street is very much the new Lamb’s Conduit.
There are clearly a few obstacles to developing an independent luxury retail store in Shoreditch. And even with the promise of a more mixed price-point in their next (post-sale) season, Hostem is undoubtedly on the dearer side of things as far as East London is concerned. “Sorry, these shoes are how much?” a customer is heard asking. £900. Not entirely the end of the world. But then this is a part of town best known to many for it’s £5 plimsoles.
Originally published in Glass Magazine