If style is genetic, then I definitely inherited some of my fashion sense from my late grandfather, Lucien.
Growing up, I remember Lucien (or pépère, as we called him, given his French-Canadian roots) being dressed. Whether he and my grandmother were coming over for dinner, or I was walking to his house after school for a visit, he was always in a snazzy outfit—more often than not a cashmere sweater layered over a button-up shirt, styled with dress pants, a sleek leather belt, and a striking Rolex watch. Even on the coldest of Canadian days, you could still find him going for a walk in a tailored wool coat and checkered scarf—sometimes with a great little hat, too. A frumpy puffer coat? He would never.
Pépère’s impeccable style was largely the result of the era he grew up in. When he entered adulthood in the 1950s, and owned his own electric and mechanical business for many years after, that’s simply what you did: you dressed to impress, and not just on Sundays. Even in his later years, as his health began to decline, my grandmother would still lay out elegant outfits on his bed every single morning. Looking put together was simply part of his essential being.
When we lost Pépère last year, one of the fondest memories I held onto—and continue to hold onto—was his dignified wardrobe. Whether intentionally or not, he taught me to always put thought and care into how I dress—that you should value yourself, and how you present yourself to the world. When my parents asked if there was anything of his that I would like to have as a keepsake, it was a no-brainer: I longed for something from his closet. Only, I learned that wasn’t an option.
Hanging in the closet of our lake house are a handful of Pépère’s 1970s-era nylon jackets, including one that is branded with the name of his former business, “H. Allaire and Sons.” They are retro in the coolest way. Not only are the the jackets pieces to remember him by, but they also fit me perfectly and suit my sense of style (which often leans ’70s). “Could I hold onto one of these?,” I asked my parents, curious if they would allow me to keep one as an heirloom. “Let’s leave them there for now,” they replied. I got the hint: They were not up for grabs.