A Note on Tradition and Transmission & Review of The Real McCoy's "Updated Fit"

The Real McCoy’s just released a resized version of the classic Buco J-24 (Stock No. BJ21101).  This classic D-pocket or Double Rider jacket is often seen as the complement to the J-100 Cafè Racer.  Before we go any further in describing and comparing the particulars of their “updated fit,” as they put it, let’s consider further what RMC has done with their Buco sub-brand and indeed all of their work.

This jacket is without question an homage and an appreciation of fashion and style that reaches self-consciously into the complex past of post-WWII Japan’s relationship with America.  That this modern Japanese company purchased the rights to the long-defunct Joseph Buegeleisen Buco brand suggests the lengths to which they were willing to go to express their commitment.  With a single stroke of identification they draw their own ensō, the circle of Zen which symbolizes, among other things, a deep, subtle deliberation with the possibilities of aesthetic realization. 

What we are seeing, however, is not mere reproduction and more than the pursuit of brand recognition with a venerable provenance.  This is a subtle expression of culture that is appropriating from afar and being wholly true to itself.  To appreciate this (re)definition of tradition we must embrace a certain degree of paradox meant to take us forward even as it points to the past.

Some in the Japanese workwear industry are indeed intent upon exacting replication and the purist mission of transmission.  Their aim is more recursive than reproductive; their view is that the present should offer no indication of itself but instead make the past present.  When the “new” piece is indistinguishable from the past, perfection arrives.  Ironically, the very pieces most sought after in this process were each never quite the same.  There’s room in this vision of reproduction for some kind of variation so long as it does not venture into innovation or “improvement.”

Such transmission purists have gone to primary sources, like Levi’s or some other past relic, and have committed to a symmetry of reproduction at every level of engagement with the object.  This can include making every detail period-correct, including re-manufacturing materials that in their time entailed all sorts of compromises and choices meant principally for the purpose of bringing the product to sale.  Their work includes these values because they are students of the entire process.

Such “flaws” in the past are not to be trifled with any more than they are to be “corrected” or “improved.”  What’s valued above all else is, say, a pair of jeans made today that might as well be 1947.  This is itself an astonishing feat of devotion to history and execution for the love of the process and the object.

Certain companies are as nostalgic as they are sentimental about transmissions.   They not only feel deeply for their work (that’s the sentiment bit), wistful and at once pouring their hearts into the task, they seem to ache for that “painful homecoming,” engaging the literal Homeric sense of paining (algos) for home (nostos).  This is pain, you know, in a good way because it means to bring things back from times long past.  We might call these efforts more formally “transmission” because their stated goal is reenactment without error and their goal is to diminish differences and innovations as far as possible in order to make anew what was done then.

Common to nearly all of the modern Japanese workwear industry (and those elsewhere sharing its values and goals) we see machines, techniques, and labor revered for those particular qualities brought out in the materials made or in their formation.  There are European and American companies also hunting down the obsolete technologies that produce the quality of the products sought.  Nearly all of this Selvedge Workwear World makes some deliberate connection to those now considered-obsolete machines, methods, and materials.  Even those who have abandoned this past for more efficient and cost effective processes, such as Levis itself, have seen the value in making a few things “the old way.”   But it is at this juncture that the road diverges between those committed to transmission-reproduction and those choosing yet another meaning for “tradition.”

While all commit to provenance, offer reverence and reliance on things past, the difference between transmission and tradition is noteworthy precisely because it is a Japanese distinction being subtly applied.  

This is also the place where things can become confusing at least in presentation and verbiage.  When we see The Real McCoy’s advertisements or, say, their Buco branding, we might assume that they are interested primarily in transmission.   But these jackets, and as far as I can tell this entire brand and its sub-brand, are reinforcing the important Japanese distinction between transmission and tradition.  The matter would seem trivial were it not yet another meticulous expression of meticulous purpose.

One of Japan’s National Treasures, the late potter in the Bizan-style, Kaneshige Michiaki (1934-1995) expresses this difference between transmission and tradition this way,

Tradition is sometimes confused with transmission. Copying Momoyama pieces is transmission. Producing contemporary pieces incorporating Momoyama period techniques is tradition. Tradition consists of retaining transmitted forms and techniques in one's mind when producing a contemporary piece. Tradition is always changing. A mere copy of an old piece has not changed; it is nearly the same as its prototype of four hundred years ago. Tradition consists of creating something new with what one has inherited.

With their commitment to this season’s “updated fit,” The Real McCoy’s make their commitment to tradition over transmission explicit.  After all, what we are witnessing is, as Michiaki puts it, “something new” within a clear inheritance of style and form.  What is added further is the commonly held a commitment to commitment shared with those devoted to an alternative vision of transmission and the unstated principle of both that while there is  no other way can be there could somehow be room for all. 

The Real McCoy’s is not only romancing Pre-War and Post-War fashions, they are taking up their own Japanese-ness in ways natural and self-conscious.  To wit, they are committed to producing a contemporary piece, committing to change not merely copying: they are choosing tradition over transmission and they are telling us so.  There is the ever so nuanced admission that this is an improvement more than it is an innovation.

There remain elements of the transmitted form because that too is an aspect of tradition but this is a distinction with a difference.  Those self-consciously invested in transmission aren’t discussing “improvements” or innovations like an “updated fit.”  They are faithful to their own agendas, where tradition meets at the boundary of a true reproduction.  In transmission the past is imperfection’s perfection; in tradition perfection remains the elusive future never quite realized.  Both are themselves ideals of realization.

While Michiaki has written somewhat disparagingly of transmission in light of tradition, it’s at least as interesting that those committed to transmission in their brands are shamelessly in pursuit of their own goals.  In other words, Japan has created room for both the traditionalist innovator, which aptly describes The Real McCoy’s and Buco, and for those who would brand transmission as their objective.  While there can be no tradition without elements of transmission, can the same be said of transmission since it exists to not be tradition?

This may be a koan as that guides different realizations even if they appear only a pair of blue jeans or a leather jacket.  It would be wholly Japanese in the ways of Zen to bring to life an ultimate set of values in “everyday” objects.  To wit, we can write about denim and leather jackets and use Dogen and Nagarjuna’s language of conventional and ultimate truths precisely because that’s where we should be looking for realization: in the things right before us that we use everyday.

The Buco J-24 is at once both inheritance (and thus transmission) being (re)branded and a contemporary remaking of tradition as tradition.  The important point is that tradition itself has been invoked as a brand to distinguish itself from that other, more deliberate consideration, namely, transmission for its own sake.  We don’t have to name more names here to draw those distinctions.  But we might compare the genius of, say, TCB or Conners Sewing Factory jeans to see transmission at its best.  That may be a step too far but we   we can notice in practice what they themselves may leave unmentioned.  How traditional is that?

In the spirit of making the mundane sublime, let’s move on to my brief review of the new tradition, “updated fit” Buco J-24.  Tradition invites comparison because comparison need not be a zero-sum game.  We can notice difference and revel as much in the fact that this is the golden age of workwear again.  There’s a lot to love out there even if very few people are making it and fewer still care.  Onto D-pockets and Double Rider jackets, at last.

***

There are more than a few beautiful real D-pockets you can own---Himel Bros. Avro fits the bill as does the Double-D from The Flat Head.  The distinction is of course the presence of the big pocket that Dave Himel describes as one originally designed for a map or a gun, for its easy access while motorcycle riding.  Schott’s classic 613 isn’t a D-pocket but their current 625 in waxy steerhide hits that mark.  As far as I can tell Schott doesn’t make a Double Rider in horsehide comparable to the Himel Bros, The Flat Head, or an equally impressive version from the Japanese company Y’2.   If there is a Freewheelers’ version, I’m not familiar but their reputation for materials and execution is stellar, much like The Real McCoys.  We need not draw lines so much as circles around those committed to impeccable, obsessive, the relentless pursuits.  These are small operations because larger brands have learned that such labor intensive and selective work doesn’t meet shareholder expectations.  In comparison to things produced in greater quantities to meet a price point, these are “luxury” goods that many cannot afford or will not indulge.  Like all things we consider about life, we have to know ourselves to know where we land on these issues and how privilege meets priorities.

You’ll also notice that Fine Creek Leathers’ Neon, like the Schott 613, skips the big D and uses only the small patch pocket.  There are far more examples of the motorcycle jacket like this than the true D-pocket.  They are less busy by definition and to the obsessive leather jacket guy, it’s no small difference, certainly enough to make you want one of each.  If the horsehide is special then you might need to live longer just to arrive at the sought after patina.  It’s about different looks in which the small differences are worth the story.

There are details like loops, belts, epaulettes---these details are also worth consideration.  Suffice it to say that the Buco J-24 keeps the epaulettes and those little metal bars that look like a lieutenant’s insignia that are called ‘passant’.  (More about passants another time.)  The belt is also absent but not the loops.  That bit I find puzzling other than to suggest that perhaps the original Bucos sold the belt optionally? After all, one can just take off the unstitched belt.  I’m personally less inclined to use it so its absence was of no matter.  At least half the fun is what matters to you.

I can’t be the only one who finds The Real McCoy’s copy about the J-24 leather a wee bit confusing, particularly regarding how the tea-core vegetable tanned horsehide today c0mpares with Joseph Buegeleisen’s Bucos of yore.  Are they really saying that today’s tanneries can’t compare to what was done in the past?   Is that a nod to transmission-values or a comparison of note?

We aren’t told precisely from where The Real McCoy’s sources this leather but the material is so carefully curated and tailored that it’s hard to believe any other company could go further to select the product used.  (I read once a bit about how Hermes of Paris selects their pieces with comparable care.)  My example is simply perfect, without the slightest suggestion of blemish.  When dealing with horsehide, that’s sum’thin’ and it’s not unfair to say that others do what they must to conceal lesser quality and often do it effectively.

A few words on comparision…

I’m lucky to have a few well-made pieces from Himel Bros., Simmons Bilt, Fine Creek Leathers, and a few others.  The Real McCoy’s compares with the best.  I have not yet found a stitch out of place.  For what this jacket purports to be it has only peers and  comparisons become less about “quality” and more about taste, fit, and preference.  Word has it that these jackets are made by one craftsperson from start to finish rather than handed off in delegated stations---there are only a very few tailors, taking their time, making these very few jackets each season.  When I wear this jacket, it feels like that.  The tea-core leather has quite a bit of original luster: it’s going to take time and weather to tone it down and bring out the natural brown underneath.

The always elusive issue of fit…
It’s impossible for me to compare this season’s “updated fit” with past versions but to say that the earlier jacket was clearly a smaller, tighter piece.  The Real McCoys says as much in its new copy, “The pattern is true to the vintage model with a three-dimensional sleeve and front-back balance to reproduce a well-balanced silhouette that is not too tight this time round.” 

It’s not unfair to compare The Real McCoy’s sizing to other skilled Japanese makers: making the numbers match up is difficult and things usually come in smaller than one might surmise.  (This is true with nearly every piece that I own, from tees to trousers.)  An exquisitely qualified custom maker once called my FCL Neon “the smallest 44 we have ever seen.” And while this obviously references another maker, I think it’s not unfair to say that The Real McCoy’s jackets have in the past fit much the same way---one is inclined in the past to size UP, perhaps as much as 2x for a slim, proper moto-style fit.  (For reference I am a true size 40 in ordinary American sized sport coats, being slightly broad shouldered, average in the waist 33-34, 170lbs, and of average 5’9,5” height.)  In the old fit J-24 I would have likely gone for the 44, comparable to my FCL but having waited for the “updated fit” I can report that the 42 fits me perfectly.  Still, if this is labeled a 42 I would think it too small if you are a genuine 42.  If you have a younger than my own gravity-laden body, are bit less broad shouldered, taller or a bit lankier you might fit the 40 and actually weigh more than I do (cf., how Gen of Standard&Strange fits the J-24 in size 40 on their offering page).

Still, these “updated fit” jackets are still on the small-ish size when compared to most made in Europe or America jackets.  I can zip up the J-24 and have room to breathe (that’s a good thing) but it is all about the close fit you are looking for.  This is not a jacket to be worn oversized and the horsehide won’t give much so you’ll need to be careful with sizing and layering.

If  I leave the jacket unzipped in search of Lorca’s duende or because it is most of the time, the jacket hangs right, it’s not too long either at the waist or in the arms and it’s not boxy.  I think the “updated fit” took whatever remained of the boxy look and finalized the v-profile.  If you have some belly or love-handles this may not be the most flattering jacket.

One more fit comparison: I tried mightily to get The Flat Head Double-D to work for me.  I think everything they make is worth every dime.  But I found their version heavier and bulkier, more square and too long in the shoulders no matter what I did.  I also found their sizing to be so difficult to nail down that one really needs an in-person fitting to get it right.  I sold this jacket not because it wasn’t beautifully made but because it just didn’t fit my very average body, albeit at my age.  YMMV.

In comparison I found the Buco to be much more comfortable on day one and beginning its evolution without too much resistance.  You have to want to work a jacket like this the same way you have to want to go through the suit of armor feeling that comes with heavy denim.

A Buco is not for the faint of heart but unlike most other things that just wear out, this jacket wears on.  The more you wear it, the more is shapes and molds and ages to fit you.  Like a great pair of engineer boots, at first unforgiving and clunky, this jacket will work its magic only if you wear it hard, and then like those boots, it won’t really fit the next person who owns it.  Yeah, it’s likely going to survive you but if you get it right, it’ll be yours. 

If you want one, you’d better jump fast.  If you need advice about fit and purchase, go to Standard & Strange ‘cause nobody does it better.  Look here:
https://standardandstrange.com/collections/the-real-mccoys-leather-jackets/products/buco-j-24-jacket-bj21101?variant=40739977920685#

There are things you can live without but there are a few things worth living with.