Five Fits With: Rule-Breaker and Sexiness Advocate Kamau Hosten
This week I’m stoked to bring you a truly special subject: my friend, Kamau Hosten. We met when he worked for The Armoury. I would find myself photographing his outfits even when he wasn’t on the docket for the day’s shoot because he literally always looked fresh—and I actually mean fresh. I don’t know anyone who wears tailoring the way he does. This looks like he’s red-carpet ready every day. It helps that he also designs his own brand, Kamsten, in his spare time, and has been tapped in to the industry in many different facets over the last decade.
Hailing from Trinidad but living most of his life here in the US (Florida, to be precise), he started menswear blogging before switching careers to retail. He transitioned from department stores to boutiques, working his way up before landing a job doing visuals at Brioni, which necessitated a move to New York City at 30 years old.
“I wanted to add to the dialogue on menswear,” he says of the move. “I’ve since managed shops, art-directed photo shoots, shot a lookbook for a fellow designer, written copy and freelance, oversaw content.” Basically, he’s done it all. Below, Kamau and I discuss the lessons he’s learned in his style journey, prioritizing sexiness over rules, Blackness and personal style, and so much more.
Fit One
Coat by Tailor Cade, jacket by Natty Adams, shirt by The Real McCoy's, trousers by Rota, belt by Zara, glasses by Gucci, watch by Omega, and vintage scarf and shoes.
Was there a seminal moment you could link to when you first became interested in clothing and style?
If you ask my mother or my godmother, who’s my second mother, they have memories of me as a kid being super particular, noticing what they were wearing. My godmother likes to tell this story about how I was really disheartened that she tossed my He-Man T-shirt on the ground. My mother sewed her clothes, my grandmother sewed her clothes. Appearance was important in the Black community; it’s another layer to protect yourself. But shit, man, I like to be fresh. When I was younger, I was like, “You know what? I’m pretty shy.” I thought, “If I can’t talk to the girls, then maybe if I’m really fresh, I might get their attention.” As I got older, obviously I read blogs and books—by Bruce Boyer, Alan Flusser—to really get the true menswear path going. Then diving into the vintage shops, chopping up suits, experimenting—like how a lot of us get started. I really enjoyed the process. In the old days of Style Forum—we’re talking 15 years ago—I was getting shredded in the comments section on fits that I thought were especially fantastic. But that was a good place to really build my own knowledge base.
How has your style evolved since you first started buying clothing?
When I was 23, I had this H&M suit. I was like, “Man, this fits dope. It’s $79. I don’t have to do anything to this suit.” Once I figured out which proportions I liked, I focused on construction. I started climbing the ladder, going the vintage route, then getting hyper into the nuances of tailoring. There are a lot of rules, right? I shifted into that menswear world of, “Okay, I’m doing all these things correct. You have the dimple in the knot? Check. The two-inch cuff? Done. Am I part of the group now?” After that, I remember I was in a club and I was wearing a double-breasted blazer and brown tassel suede loafers. I looked down like, “Yo, this is not happening. I don’t feel hot at all.”
Fit Two
Vintage coat, jacket by Savas, shirt by The Armoury, trousers by Kamsten, belt by Paul Smith, and boots by Alessandro Vasini.
I had the exact same experience. Is this a menswear rite of passage?
“Why the fuck am I out at a club in these clothes?” I figured out there’s got to be some appeal to this. By chance I met with John Vizzone, former creative director at Ralph Lauren. This was years ago, but he had just started his tenure as the creative director for ready-to-wear at Ciffonelli. He was wearing this amazing bespoke black velvet jacket with pink lapels, but he wore it with black jeans and black Chelsea boots. I was like, “He’s hitting all those notes—all the fit shit that menswear guys love, but this looks hot. How do I do that?” At this point, I’m five years into New York, so I start wearing all black. But there was always a tailoring element to it. I started to feel more like myself, like I wasn’t copying the rule book. Then there was a day where I’m like, “Yo, it’s taking way too god-damn long to take these pants off. This skinny shit is not it.” I’m tripping over, falling on my bed thinking, “If someone was here, this would be embarrassing.” I gradually eased into wider trousers, and when I started my own brand, I started experimenting and getting into flared trousers.
I will fully admit I was taking inspiration from what was then Alessandro Michele’s collections at Gucci. What I really liked was how this kind of clothing was taking cues from the ‘70s, enhancing the physique in a way that was almost sexualizing the male form. That’s not something that guys would focus on or that we’ve been taught to focus on. For so long, it was dressing for dudes. You have to look at yourself and be like, “Would I fuck me? Okay, does this make my butt look good? Do these trousers elongate my legs?” What I’m trying to do is evoke some of that sensuality and sensibility that guys like Al Green, David Bowie, and Tommy Nutter had and make it my own, which where I am now, really owning that sense of self.
I feel really proud of where my style is now. And it could change. It could look different in a year. That’s the point. There’s a school of thought, especially in the classic world, where guys are like, “This is it. You got to buy your navy jacket. You need gray trousers. You don’t want to look at yourself in 10 years and think, ‘What the hell was I wearing?’” Yes, the fuck you do. I want to be like, “You know what? Maybe I wouldn’t do that now, but back then you couldn’t tell me anything about what I had on.”
Fit Three
Vintage cloak, suit by Kamsten, shirt by Asos, boots by Saint Laurent, and umbrella by Fox.
What impact does Blackness have on your style?
Man, if we’re going to be just straight up about it, we make shit cool. We just do. Like Jason Jules’s book, Black Ivy, we made that shit look cool because you can have your navy jacket, you can have your tweeds, but it’s going to look stuffy. We inject a sense of culture. It’s in the essence of Black people. There’s just a natural swagger about how we carry ourselves. That comes from taking those rules and saying, “These weren’t made for us, so we can be a bit more subversive with how we do this. I’m not trying to fit this mold.”
Can you remember your first significant purchase?
The biggest splurge was a pair of Saint Laurent Wyatt boots. I’m telling you man, that shit changed my life. I was so excited to wear them, and they literally and figuratively elevated my sensibility. I put those on with trousers or a suit and all of a sudden it felt a little cooler and sleeker. There’s something edgy and hot about a boot.
What’s your most recent purchase?
It was a navy vintage Gloverall duffle coat. I’ve wanted one for years. I love it for when I’m a little sportier. Throw that on, knit hat, out the door.
Fit Four
Coat by Gianfranco Ferré, jacket and trousers by Kamsten, vintage shirt and earrings, and boots by Saint Laurent.
Is there anything you’re currently on hunt for?
Yes, of course, man. There’s always shit. I’m on the hunt for a really incredible pair of white or cream Chelsea boots, because I think that’ll finish off any ensemble nicely. White shoes are so unexpected, and it’s a little bit of a fuck you, because the first thing someone’s going to say is, “You know it’s going to get dirty.” That’s the point. White clothing should get a little messed up.
Any favorite brands you’re into recently?
I absolutely am in love with all of Bella Freud’s designs. It’s primarily women’s, but I love the exaggerated cuts. She’s very influenced by the seventies. There’s beautiful flow. On the men’s side, Husbands—I’ve been following them for six or seven years now. I love their take on tailoring. They make it fun. I’ve always aimed to make and wear tailoring that doesn’t feel like it’s meant for a boardroom—maybe a bedroom. But it’s not about looking correct. “Check this motherfucker out. He wears a suit because he wants to.” And that is how I look at those brands.
Fit Five
Suit by Kamsten, shirt by Ascot Chang, and boots by Amiri.
Give me your top three New York City spots.
You have to go to Front General. It’s an amazing vintage shop. You got to go to Balthazar. It’s classic. It’s old school. It feels New York. It’s great people watching. Everything you could want is there. The food’s fantastic. I love how it’s really enmeshed in the culture of the city. Dear Irving has a chic feel about it. The drinks are incredible, and I always feel a little sleek when I’m in there.
Tell me about your brand, Kamsten. What’s the deal with it?
I started in 2018. I wanted to make things I wanted to wear. Started playing with proportions. It was always tailoring that isn’t about convention. I wanted to make things that felt sleek, but still had some traditional touches. I wanted a longer jacket. I wanted a broad peak lapel. I wanted a strong shoulder. I wanted a high-waisted trouser, but I wanted it to feel sleek. That’s what I’ve strived for. The newest suit that I’ve designed has more of a loose feel, which is where I want tailoring to go. And I see, in many regards, that’s where a lot of designers are taking it.
If you had to wear one outfit for the rest of your life, what would it consist of?
Actually, I had it on. It’s this hazelnut peak lapel jacket that I designed, black flared trousers, black Chelsea boots, and a white shirt. I could wear that anywhere.
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