The art of fashion buying—the practice of painstakingly going through each collection, searching out new designers and ideas, weighing budgets, and contemplating clientele— is one of the least appreciated skills. A buyer’s work is at its most obvious when it is bad; we’ve all sauntered into a store, flicked through uninspiring racks grimacing, and left dispirited. Even in our digital age, this still stands—scrolling through page after page of garments or accessories, far too many things, finding nothing. When a buyer is on point, you don’t even notice it; you’re so taken in by the atmosphere engendered by their choices that you might feel inspired to try on new styles, experiment with new colours, or spend too much money.
Though I only wear vintage and mostly shop on eBay, I love to window-shop, stroll through stores, and take in the whole experience, which, for the most part, has been sadly lacking for the last decade or so. The fall of department stores, the rise of online shopping, the quick collapse of many online multi-brand luxury retailers, and the Amazonification of everything have resulted in a depersonalization of the shopping process. Where once you might have visited a boutique where the owner, buyer, and shop assistants knew you and considered you when ordering the season’s collection, now we type a vague term into Google and hope for the best. The thought and care that once went into buying has been delegated to algorithms and AI. Unless you are lucky to live in a place that still has that kind of customer-focused, intimate multi-brand specialty store (like Capitol in Charlotte, for example) then you might not even be aware of what you are missing or that it is even still possible.
As much as everyone talks about the benefits of convenience (ordering a bikini or your groceries right to your door), I think most fashion-oriented shoppers would appreciate a more personal touch. It is why influencers and shopping Substacks have become so popular—shoppers need some way to cut through the thousands of results on Amazon or Google, help sorting through the multitude of expensive white t-shirts on the market, advice on which bra or jeans to buy, so they turn to a trusted voice’s Instagram story links, ShopMy, or newsletter. It’s also why there is increasing interest in small or unique shopping destinations.

In 1978, Harpers & Queen fashion editor Min Hogg (who would go on to found World of Interiors three years later) asked a group of fashion buyers from thirteen of London’s best stores how they approached their work. Photographed by Peter Schlesinger in a look from their racks, the buyers reveal a variety of methods to their choices, but most admit to some level of shopping for themselves; they have to like it, they have to see themselves in it, no one wants to sell clothes they find uninspiring. Of the fashion buyers Hogg spoke with, three worked at department stores (Liberty’s, Harrod’s, Harvey Nichols), with the rest at specialty stores and boutiques of various sizes. Three men are included, always alongside a woman. Four of the featured groupings include an owner [Paul Howie, Joseph Ettedgui (more on him in a few weeks), Lucienne Phillips, and Joan Burstein] who also buys (or designs, as in Howie’s case). Forty-seven years later, four of the stores remain open: all of the department stores plus Browns.
Growing up in London, visiting the rabbit warren of Browns shops on South Molton Street (they kept expanding, taking over one small Georgian townhouse after another, combining and connecting them in ingenious ways) was a fashion education—the buy was always impeccable and instructional. So good were their choices that I still have (decades later) many garments I picked up at Browns Labels for Less, where they flogged past season's clothes for a tuppence. I haven’t been to Browns since it moved in 2021, but I hope it still has that impact today.
Having a baby has thrown me out of my window shopping and browsing habit. Do you still shop in person? Are there any stores today that you find inspiring?
BUYING, BUYING
Harper’s & Queen, June 1978: Text by Min Hogg, Photos by Peter Schlesinger
The pitfalls involved in buying clothes to put on your own back are as nothing compared to those of being a professional fashion buyer. After all, should you yourself commit one mistake in buying a brute of a dress, there is no compulsion at all to commit another by actually wearing the thing.
Not so the lot of the professional buyer.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Sighs & Whispers to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.