The Armoury, From Hong Kong, Brings Men's Clothing to TriBeCa Upper-crust inclinations in a store from Hong Kong. THERE ARE ONLY a few ways to utter the sentence "I've seen a lot of hand-rolled pocket square edges, and those are by far the best," and most of them are awful, pretentious, smug. Nick had it down, though. We were hovering over the drawers at the rear of the Armoury. The rack had some beautiful gloves, including a radiant cranberry pair by Drake's ($75), some remarkable Drake's unlined gloves ($360) and a heap of pocket squares. The ones by Drake's were full of life, in vibrant prints that would be at home in Tangier or Gstaad or Greenwich. By contrast, the ones by Simonnot-Godard ($65) were modest: simple in design, very evidently handmade, imperfect as a Cuban cigar leaf. We were looking at one that was off-white with a lime-green edge when Nick uttered that sentence - reverently and plainly, almost humbly. He was right, of course. It was like a museum artifact, brittle in appearance but remarkably sturdy. You wanted to buy a whole summer suit just to have something to wear it with. These are the fantasies on display at the Armoury, a small-batch haberdashery with upper-crust inclinations. A New York extension of a relatively young Hong Kong store, the Armoury lives at the halfway point between Tumblr men's wear and Savile Row (the upstairs space in the store will soon be given over to made-to-measure). It also helps teleport TriBeCa from a men's wear backwater (excepting the J. Crew Liquor Store, though not really) to something far more elegant and advanced. The closest analogues in the city are probably those small Italian brand-centric shops sprinkled across the Upper East Side that cater to a generation interested in tailoring but maybe not silhouette. The Armoury drags that aesthetic screaming into the present. The day I went, the store was staffed by Nick, an Italian-tailoring type in an impeccably fit blazer, and Jeremy, more of a flâneur, with his unbuttoned oversize collar and gray Belgians. One of them described the store as having "a "70s Paul Stuart vibe," a noble goal. Japanese men's wear fetish magazines like Men's Ex and Leon were littered on the tabletops. I had brought my friend Tony, who was in search of something to wear while teaching, or on camera, or while ice skating in Prospect Park. Yes, he contains multitudes. This seemingly tall order was small here. He was drawn to a heavy tweed blazer in a dark, bloody navy by the Japanese manufacturer Ring Jacket ($1,260) that was thick enough to repel knife attacks and ruggedly prim enough for countryside strolls. It was almost military in its certainty. But what really stood out, and complemented him nicely, were the Spanish wool hunting jackets by Justo Gimeno ($700). With four buttons, and with a soft mien, they were strikingly versatile, easily worn over a shirt and tie, or as a layering item. Each was the sort of piece that seemed counterintuitive at a distance, but practically essential up close, a jacket that would forgive you if you had a big meal before you were set to deliver a reading from your latest novel. I had a similar reaction to a navy A-1 flight jacket, in a thick but not overbearing wool, made by Ring Jacket ($710). When I brought it home, my Valstarino balled up in shame and hid in the back of the closet. Here was a jacket that would look great over a light sweater or, as I found, under my most absurd winter jacket, a drapey faux Fair Isle sheath from Engineered Garments. I wore the two together out of the store and, for once, was warm. I had to fight the urge to call my mom to tell her. In the front of the store was a rack of blazers by Orazio Luciano, who delivers Neapolitan tailoring but with traditional English fabrics, an alluring pairing, finding the middle ground between rigor and suavity. A couple of times a year, the tailor Antonio Liverano will fly in from Florence to measure captains of industry with discerning taste and the sort of guys who go to Leffot trunk shows. Otherwise, there are the usual high-end bits and bobs: Ascot Chang shirts, though only in spread collar; a beautiful array of Carmina shoes, particularly the olive green suede tasseled loafer ($550); a gang of Fox umbrellas with snappy handles, and a wall of Drake's ties that bordered on the erotic. To call this mode of dressing resurgent is to overstate the case: Reblogs do not a style make. But the Armoury makes a certain refinery almost approachable, and appealingly intimate. Just ask the Drake's cashmere turtleneck ($500) that loved me so much, it clung to me tightly and didn't want to be taken off. Now it's calling me, texting me at all hours. "When can we be together," it wants to know. Finally, I wrote back: "Sooner than you think."