Carson Street Clothiers - Critical Shopper The sound was coming from the back of the store, and it was a problem. I tried to shop Carson Street Clothiers a few weeks ago, soon after its March opening. New-store smell can be distracting - you can tell more about a place after time has softened it a bit - but I was in the neighborhood and wanted to take a peek. At the back of the store is a seating area: chairs are comfortable, beer and water are free, magazines are there for the thumbing through. That's where the voice was coming from. It was Lawrence Schlossman, editor of Four Pins, and an author of last year's profanely titled men's-wear guidebook, blowing my cover. Going unrecognized is part of this job, and that means being a part of no clubs, or at least not in any real way. And don't let anyone tell you differently: there absolutely is a club. Mr. Schlossman looked cozy, as if he had been sitting there for about six months. Noted. Not long after that, Jian DeLeon, style writer for Complex and Valet, posted a picture of the Carson Street seating area on Instagram with the caption "First rule of #menswear club ..." A couple of weeks later, I bumped into Joshua Kissi of Street Etiquette on Houston Street, who, after a brief conversation, nodded in the direction of Crosby Street and asked if I had been to Carson Street yet. So, then. All roads - all men's-wear bros? - lead to Carson Street Clothiers, which has quickly become one of the city's essential men's stores, and a favorite of the young men's-wear illuminati. I've walked by the place maybe half a dozen times and seen men sitting on the stoop, smoking in perfectly tailored blazers. Scott Schuman must bike by and roll his eyes, thinking, "What have I wrought?" I returned on a quiet day for another attempt at incognito and was greeted warmly (and anonymously). Could I leave my bag behind the register so I didn't have to drag it around the store? I could. Did I want something to drink while I shopped? I did not, but I could see how other eminently reasonable shoppers might. You will not want anything in your hands as a distraction here. The inventory is astutely chosen, and often surprising: a thin bomber-style jacket by Mackintosh, dark blue with white varsity-style accents ($695); a bright yellow lightweight rain jacket by Melinda Gloss; a violet-check spread-collar shirt by Ian Velardi ($225); a rather flabbergasting array of Drake's ties. If the two-tone slate-blue lambskin suede Patrik Ervell varsity jacket had been about three-fourths of an inch longer in the body, I might now be $1,345 lighter in the wallet. CARSON STREET operates in the increasingly fuzzy turf between tailored and casual clothing, and its selection of blazers is robust. There's beautiful stuff from Ovadia & Sons, especially one in pulpy blue with external pockets ($1,100) and a classic double-breasted navy option with gold buttons ($1,750). On a more modest scale, there was a rumpled military green option by Mr. Velardi and austere, unstructured ones by L.B.M. 1911 ($625). The most exciting were the ones made for the Carson Street house line by Southwick - the selection at the moment tends toward summer tweeds in bright but mature color combinations. A quarter or more of the inventory is house line, the salesclerk said. Perhaps the most striking thing about Carson Street is its size: large enough for that relaxed seating area, and to stock any accessories one might need. That means bags, sunglasses, hair products, magazines like Fantastic Man and Man of the World and, of course, shoes, including a lovely chocolate brown cap-toe by Yanko ($550), a Spanish company currently exclusive to Carson Street in the United States, and a handful of the more dignified Mark McNairys. I thought about the Yankos but was already in the hole. I'd been taken by a pair of emerald green twill Ovadia pants ($245) - summer garden parties, watch out - and a hooded Velardi camouflage jacket with a corduroy collar ($450), striking enough to overcome the fact that, really, we should all stop wearing camouflage. Carson Street is so fully in character that it was as much a shopping experience as a series of perfectly planted vignettes, an off-off-Broadway production of a well-dressed life. In the rear of the store, two guys - one sockless in Margielas, the other sockless in penny loafers with a shiny embedded penny - debated hockey trivia. At one point, two men (father and son, I'm guessing) came in. The younger was picking up something he'd had altered. Alterations are free. The older - medium height, lovely swoops of white hair, a suit too perfectly draped to be anything other than custom - buried himself in a rack of blazers, fingering the stitching, holding them close to his face. How long before he'd be on a couch in the back, holding court? Carson Street Clothiers 63 Crosby Street, (212) 925-2627; carsonstreetclothiers.com Sartorial Carson Street has done a lot of things right very quickly - great brands, strong selection, wide range of styles - proving just how much of a vacuum there has been in the city's men's-wear universe. Virtual The shop was founded by a pair of ex-lawyers, Matt Breen and Brian Trunzo, who, in the modern fashion, blogged their way through the process on Esquire.com. Physical "Manly" interiors can be the worst cliché, but Carson Street manages to connote that idea without overkill. Here, masculinity is not the stuff of work, but of relaxation.