Todd Snyder Doesn’t Think Fashion Should Be So Fickle

“This is the most nerve-wracking part,” Todd Snyder whispers. The menswear designer is at his showroom in New York’s Garment District—a handsome space with dove-gray walls, an industrial wood table, and shelves stacked with hefty art books—while a buyer from Barneys Japan looks at Snyder’s upcoming collection, deciding what, if anything, his store will carry next season. So far, only a few pieces hang on the “yes” rack.

Although he’s trying to look relaxed, Snyder is keeping a close eye on the proceedings. Typically, designers don’t help sell their collection; they’re too emotionally invested, too busy, or too concerned with appearing either way. But Barneys is an important store, and he’d like it to have a more robust offering than the graphic tees the buyer, a hip-looking man named Mitsuo Nakahashi, has shown interest in so far. Two employees are there guiding Nakahashi through the collection, but Snyder interrupts with suggestions, pulling a button-up shirt and a pair of utility shorts and placing them on the rack himself. “Is this everything? It feels like we’re really short,” he says, looking for a white polo shirt with blue-tipped sleeves that appears to have gone missing. Slowly, the rack begins to fill up. “You have to slow them down and show them things,” the designer explains later. “It’s easy for everyone to skim, but you have to be a merchant.”