"Dress for Excess - Arbitrage caters to the aspiring titans of Generation Y"
By Melissa Korn
On the "shirts" page of Arbitrage's online clothing store, a brooding young man with five o'clock shadow gazes intently at the camera—cigar in one hand, whiskey in the other. A photo to his right depicts the tanned, toned torso of an anonymous woman, slightly sweaty, clad only in artfully placed sushi. Click through to the online "brand book" of the high-end men's haberdashery (button-down shirts run $165 to $185) and you'll find more provocative images: a man teasing a sexy blonde's lips with his forefinger, naughtily threatening her with a riding crop as he tugs her hair from above; a trio of women lounging lustily on a bed as a man videotapes them; a naked woman, photographed from behind, blindfolded by a swanky necktie. The photos, shot by fashion photographer Marc Todd, embrace the unapologetic flaunting of masculine power—a sex-drenched updating of Eighties-style conspicuous consumption à la Wall Street's Gordon Gekko.
Launched in 2007 by Alan Chan '06, Manoj Dadlani '04, and Kristin Ming '06, Arbitrage offers men's shirts for both the boardroom and the bar, as well as ties, cufflinks, and wallets, all catering to the status-conscious urbanite. Over the past year, the line has landed coveted shelf space in stores ranging from Fred Segal and Saks Fifth Avenue to Canada's GotStyle and Japan's Liquor, Woman, and Tears. The fashions have even made it onto the backs of celebrities like "Entourage" star Adrian Grenier. "It's not just clothing," says Chan. "It's about a lifestyle of success." Arbitrage caters to that ambition, with its logo—a bull—everywhere from its cufflinks to the linings of its ties.
Chan describes Arbitrage's target market as a "modern urban businessman who works hard and plays hard," which he says he can relate to; he worked for Summit Partners, a Palo Alto venture capital and private equity company, before deciding that finance wasn't for him. When he started work, Chan felt he had few options to fill his post-college closet. There was Brooks Brothers, but its clean-cut style was too conservative, catering more to men of a certain age. There were generic department store button-down shirts—but they were, well, generic. Then there were offerings from Hugo Boss, Ermenegildo Zegna, and Paul Smith, but Chan wanted something with a slimmer fit, more suitable for a twenty-something man-about-town.
Dadlani, too, was a member of Chan's target audience, having worked at the management consultancy and private equity firm Applied Value for a few years after Cornell. While Chan is technically chief executive officer and Dadlani chief operating officer, they each have their hands in all aspects of the young company. The two spend their days talking to store reps, organizing promotional events, and overseeing production at their Boston-area and New York factories. Ming, who studied textiles and apparel at Cornell, is the line's creative director, the artistic force behind the clothes. Though she expected to land her first job with a large design house—perhaps working just on accessories or sketching rough designs—Ming says she prefers overseeing products "from concept to finish" at the startup.
Arbitrage's so-called "corporate" line tends toward light-colored shirts made from luxe cottons and crisp patterns like pinstripes and herringbone, along with wide-cut ties that force a large knot, the better to make a strong statement in the boardroom. Then there's the "lounge" line, with slightly shorter, slimmer shirts meant to stay untucked. One of the company's most popular items is its $230 Krona hoodie, a mullet of a shirt with a button-down front, French cuffs, side slant pockets, and a hood. There's a summer-friendly style in seersucker, which online culture maven Thrillist says is "perfect for maintaining your rep as the hardest mofo at the yacht club."
The brand recently launched the Arbitrage EFG (Environmentally Friendly Garment) collection, made of organic materials, and is looking into more bamboo- and soy-based products. With the word "charity" embroidered on the shirts' cuffs, the wearer can casually drop into conversation that $25 from each item goes to an organization that brings safe drinking water to developing communities. After all, as Dadlani says, the lounge shirts are meant to appeal to a specific audience: "The guy who wants to pick up a girl when he's out." To that end, the company's advertising suggests that men who wear its clothes are more likely to be fighting off the ladies in a club's VIP room than chasing them on the dance floor. Playing up the lure of an exclusive lifestyle, Arbitrage made its early-stage website password-protected. The key? "Fidelio," the word that allowed entry into the erotic nightclub in Eyes Wide Shut.