Something’s in the air at your local mall, and it’s not the smell of stale Cinnabon. In recent years, the brands most closely associated with the shopping plaza’s bustling heyday have done a lot of soul-searching. Some have taken the J.Crew route, tapping buzzy new talent to overhaul their entire vibe from the ground up. And some, like Banana Republic, have simply doubled-down on what made them powerhouses in the first place: Hardy, deceptively thoughtful clothing for style-conscious guys put off by luxury fashion’s exorbitant price tags.
All of which has turned those beleaguered brick-and-mortar institutions into something they haven’t been in a long time: Reliable sources of classic menswear. A decent place to find some pleated khakis, sure—but also the suede car coat you’ll want to wear them with. If it helps, you can think of the mall’s cool-again rep as the retail version of a teen movie makeover, except in this case, the beneficiary isn’t a gawky, bespectacled high-schooler dragged to the Westfield by savvier friends: It’s the mall itself.
To Marcus Allen, the vintage whisperer behind The Society Archive, this is old news. Allen has been collecting pieces from the big-box brands of yesteryear for close to a decade, with a particular focus on the names that once ruled the suburban galleria. (His collection of old-school Abercrombie & Fitch, where he worked as a teen, numbers in the thousands.)
And with the debut of The Archive, a selection of Banana Republic pieces culled from its deep backlog of hits—weathered Gore-Tex anoraks, unfussy button-ups, tricked-out fishing vests, heaps of leather jackets—Allen hopes to present a microcosm of American fashion filtered through the lens of one of its most slyly influential ambassadors.
Ahead of the collection’s debut this morning, we gave him a call to discuss the mall brand resurgence, the peculiar appeal of ‘90s-era menswear, and the case for Banana Republic’s enduring relevance today.
GQ: I’m curious to hear how long Banana Republic has been on your radar.
Marcus Allen: Through Society Archive, mall brands are definitely the main category that I've been collecting for the past 10 years, and Banana Republic is high up there with that group. This is pretty lame, but when I was in high school, my big sister was visiting and we went into the mall and she bought me this really sick nylon zip-up jacket from Banana Republic, which I no longer have, unfortunately. But we found a few pieces that are very similar to it that I was really excited about.
I'm relieved you were able to find a dupe. You also preempted me there, because I wanted to ask you about what we’ve been calling the mall brand resurgence, which has buoyed some of BR’s competitors, too. Which eras, specifically, were you looking at for this collection?
I had done a partnership with Banana about a year or so ago, but it was much less my point of view; we had to focus more on the Mill Valley collection [which focuses on the brand’s early ‘80s catalog]. And this time around, I was actually able to really dig into more of the early ’90s, late ‘90s, early 2000s, some of the things that are more relevant to the way that I dress currently and the way that I was dressing back then. The Mill Valley pieces are very interesting, but they're way more utilitarian because they were meant for a safari kind of vibe. Now we have pieces from that era, we have pieces from the ‘90s, pieces from the early 2000s. Those pieces are so relevant to how people are putting their looks together today. It feels very natural; it doesn't feel forced.
Why do you think the stuff you gravitate towards looks so relevant in 2023? Is it a natural byproduct of fashion’s constant churn, or is there something else going on here we’re missing?