Happy Father’s Day! Read all of our dad stories here.
A few years back, our colleagues shared the pieces they’d inherited or stolen from their dads’ closets that they still wore regularly. With Father’s Day coming up this Sunday—don’t panic, you’ve still got time to nab a last-minute gift—we decided it was time to let a whole new crop of GQ staffers share their favorite paternal hand-me-downs.
A Well-Loved Watch
My father has always had a fond appreciation for watches, and as his career has grown over the years, he has built himself a small but enviable collection. This TAG Heuer 2000 WK1120 may not be the rarest or most sought-after timepiece by watch collectors today, but it was the first-ever luxury brand watch he owned, purchased for him as a gift by my mother in the early ’90s. I know how much it meant to him to own a TAG at that point in his life—still probably his favorite watch brand—and he wore this one religiously for years. A couple of years ago, he passed it down to me, and now I wear it religiously. I love what this watch represents to my family. I love even more all of its scratches and visible wear. It feels infused with my dad’s spirit and character and stories. —Mick Rouse, global research director
A Niche New York Varsity
I remember my dad wearing this badass jacket all the time when I was a kid. I love the classic look of the leather sleeves and wool body. It’s quite unique too—New York City Lites is a lighting company that one of my dad’s best friends, Deke, founded in the ’80s. Back then, Deke had a few of them made on 10th Avenue and gave one to my dad. Many years later, my dad gave his to me, and now it’s not only my favorite jacket but one of the coolest things I own. —Keir Novesky, global design director
Life-Affirming Ties
My dad started wearing ties in the ’80s, as a young, preternaturally exhausted psychiatry resident. By the time I came along, in the summer of ’96, he’d already amassed a small haberdashery’s worth of them. Wearing them today reminds me of his laughably elite taste—and the soft, reflexive empathy that masks it, a tacit rejection of the blowhards comparing lapel stitching on Styleforum.
Once, when I was in high school, my dad mentioned an especially telling interaction with a patient. One of his regulars, an older gentleman with a (relatively) sunny disposition, had ambled into his office unusually downtrodden. “Doc, what’s the meaning of all this?” he eventually sighed, gesturing wearily around him.
Earlier in their conversation, my dad encouraged the guy to share more about his day, trying to suss out what precipitated the fatalist turn. “I suppose it wasn’t all bad,” the patient said. On the way to the hospital, he had stopped to buy a coffee, cracking a joke that made the harried-looking barista laugh. “That’s the meaning of all this,” my dad recounted to me, using slightly flowerier language for emphasis. (Cue my mother’s eye-roll.) “If all you did today was make a stranger laugh, isn’t that worth it?”
Thanks for the ties, Pops. Wearing them makes my days worth it. —Avidan Grossman, senior commerce editor
The 9-to-5 Sweater Vest
When I was growing up, my dad would periodically consult me for fashion advice as he got ready for work in the morning. I’d be sleepy from waking up for school, and he’d bring in a couple ties—usually some combination of maroon, navy, and striped—for me to choose from to pair with his usual pale blue or plaid Oxford shirt and wool sweater vest, which he ordered semiannually from the L.L.Bean and Lands’ End catalogs we got in the mail. (Even now, whenever we have a formal-ish family event to go to, my dad still asks me for style guidance.) A couple years ago, I asked if he had any extra sweater vests hanging around and he gave me a small stack of them, in navy, gray, and burgundy. They’ve become some of my favorite layering pieces when it gets chilly outside. Now that it’s summer, I’m already looking forward to wearing them again. —Eileen Cartter, staff writer
A Gigantic Pair of Khakis
Decades before Justin Bieber was the King of Baggy Fits, my dad began wearing his pants loose and slouchy. He favored the roomy look more out of comfort and practicality than any kind of fashion statement—he needed trousers that were presentable enough for business meetings, functional enough to keep up as he tinkered with the water heater or septic tank around the house, and cozy enough to nap in on his trusty green leather La-Z-Boy. My mum always hated them, wishing he’d opt for something a little more tailored and flattering.
Then, a few years back, my dad lost a bunch of weight following a pretty serious medical procedure. (He’s doing great these days!) After a couple of months of constantly tugging his pants up as he walked to ensure they wouldn’t fall down in public, even he had to finally admit they were too big. He tossed out a handful of voluminous pleated chinos from Dockers and Lee—and I immediately swooped in. (Dad simply replaced them, much to my mother’s chagrin, with still-baggy pants that fit his new waistline.) They’re pretty big on me, too, honestly, but in a way that I think feels more red-carpet action hero and less MC Hammer. —Yang-Yi Goh, style editor
The GOAT Jersey
I’ve swiped plenty of things from my father’s closet, but this ’90s Starter jersey with His Airness emblazoned on the front and back is easily my greatest acquisition. Growing up, the Bulls were my family’s first team. I remember watching those ’90s games with my dad with the TV muted and the radio on, because he preferred the radio play-by-play. The jersey made a lot of public appearances over the years, but mostly, he wore it around the house, tucked into a pair of sweatpants. The point is, much like literally everyone who was living and breathing in Chicago during that time, he was a die-hard Bulls fan—and he had the gear to prove it. Out of all the Bulls merch we cycled through, this specific jersey is something of a family grail, and I like to think I share joint custody of it with my brother. I’m just afraid that if he borrows it, he may never give it back. —Michael Nolledo, associate commerce director
An Everyday Button-Down
Later in his life, my grandpa developed a uniform he would wear literally every day: a button-down shirt (always with a breast pocket for his glasses) and a pair of slacks. I guess it made it easy to pick out his daily outfits, but it's also because at that point in the time he'd amassed a hearty selection of pretty much the same shirt and pants. One of my favorites was a heavyweight J.Crew plaid shirt from maybe the ’80s or ’90s (it was definitely from before I was born, at least). I borrowed it one day as an overshirt, and maybe, sort of, kind of, forgot to give it back. Here at GQ, we’re constantly talking about the resurgence of mall brands, and it's funny to look back now and realize how much of my grandpa's wardrobe consisted of so many of those very brands at their peak coolness—including Abercrombie, Gap, and, of course, the Crew. This shirt isn’t the piece from my grandpa’s wardrobe that I wear the most—that'd be his Rolex Oysterdate, which I wear every day—but whenever I need something cool, casual, and comfy to wear, it's nice to know that I can cosplay as my old man. —Tyler Chin, lifestyle commerce editor
The Scottish Rugby
My dad’s typical fit includes a Columbia fishing shirt and ExOfficio shorts with extremely dadly New Balance kicks. Of course, this is when he’s not wearing a well-tailored suit and tie for work (which he tries to be in less and less these days). So a few years back, while snooping in my parents closet, I was pretty surprised to find a treasure’s trove of vintage merch hidden away in a plastic bin. There was a Cornell Law sweatshirt, a Martha’s Vineyard Black Dog T-shirt, and—my favorite of all—a St. Andrews University rugby shirt, which he’d picked up while studying abroad at the Scottish college in the late ’80s.
Back when I discovered the shirt, Rowing Blazers was all the rage, and I’d already been eyeing a rugby with a pretty hefty price tag. It was kismet that I found my dad’s rugby in all its worn-in glory—I truly felt like I’d hit the jackpot. The deal was only sweetened when, inspired by my dad, I later decided to apply (and was accepted!) to St. Andrews. While I didn’t end up going, I still wear the rugby from time to time. My dad keeps telling me I only have it “on loan.” —Carolina Gonzalez, associate manager, social media
A Sensible Jacket
This ’90s Patagonia fleece-lined jacket is far from a one-of-a-kind grail. There are plenty to be had on eBay, at reasonable prices, no less (shoutout GQ Recommends!). In fact, it's pretty close to the jacket Seinfeld is wearing in The Parking Garage. But among the dozens of tees, jackets, pants, and ties I've plucked from my dad's closet over the years, it's the thing that kind of makes me feel most like my father in a certain phase of life. I can see him sporting this jacket, along with some heather gray pleated Dockers and white Rockport ProWalkers, driving me to baseball practice in our ’91 Toyota truck. The nylon exterior swishing as he extends and locks the long arm of an off-brand The Club across the steering wheel before we hop out at Rossi playground (this was an era when fleece wasn't a signifier of anything particular in San Francisco other than common sense). And now it's an always-hanging-by-the-front-door go-to for me, a jacket I often grab and throw on to pick up my own kids. —Martin Mulkeen, global commerce category director