In the 90s,

I found Henry Lloyd.

A journey into finding menswear began.

It was 1994.

Henry Lloyd caught my eye.

How? Through footballs, casual passersby?

Their logo intrigued me.

Henry Lloyd wasn't yet,

On mainstream radar.

Found on the corner

East St. Arcade.

The Lanes Brighton.

A few select pieces.

First

The Harrington Jacket.

Heavy cotton canvas.

My go-to.

Henry Lloyd's sailing catalogue

Rope me in,

A telephone call.

Numbers to Order

A few weeks wait.

Brighton Marina Yachting supplies

Provided the stockist.

Filled with yachting gear, not menswear

Rope galore,

Likely Lad,

The yachting keepers stunned.

I ordered. Shoes. Shorts. A rugby shirt.

A rugby shirt with thick blue and white stripes remains.

A symbol of Henry Lloyd's past quality.

I fondly recall a technical black fleece jacket.

Timeless.

Mates also bought their gear.

Henry Lloyd's clothes: comfortable durable.

Perfect for beach and beer.

Deck shoes.

Twill shorts.

Strong. Durable. Well-priced.

Brighton days were memorable.

Henry Lloyd fitted my lifestyle.

Perfect for town and beach.

Yet, as the 90s went on, they changed.

Sailing gear to fashion.

Became high-street.

Lost the authenticity.

This story is more than clothes.

It's about time. A place. A connection.

Henry Lloyd's evolution reflects my own.

Nostalgia and garments.

Interwoven with memories.

Each piece a part of my history.

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