Henry-Lee and Company President Rob Mann. PHOTOGRAPHY BY ROBIN SUBAR
Sometimes, an entrepreneurial spirit tends to run in the family—just ask Henry-Lee and Company President Rob Mann. And while he may be cut from the same visionary cloth as his grandfather, Mann is crafting his own narrative courtesy of a new fabric: denim.
“The consistent thread,” says Mann, “was the importance of really great fabrications.”
He’s reflecting on Henry-Lee and Company, the dressmaker that his late grandfather, Henry Mann, founded 60 years ago, but it’s a statement that holds equal merit under Mann’s leadership.
It wasn’t until 1990 when Mann—who spent summers in high school and college working at Henry-Lee and Company—heard the siren call of his family’s business, joining his father, mother, and sister before him. “I wanted to modernize our business approach,” says Mann, propping his feet against the desk in his West Loop office. Always interested in marketing (in a former life, he worked at Macy’s management training in Atlanta and wrote radio ads in Indianapolis), he found success at Henry-Lee and Company by selling to specialty stores.
But by the late ’90s, the business was beginning to fall prey to changing times. “We were great at making something that not a lot of people wanted anymore,” Mann says with a smile, referring to the company’s offering of dresses and suits. He helped Henry-Lee and Company launch a sportswear brand, 600 West (named in homage to the company’s former location at 600 West Van Buren Street), which he sold in 2008. Still eager to grow Henry-Lee and Company during the recession, he began helping premium denim lines with their production. “I couldn’t understand,” Mann says, “why they were charging so much for what it actually cost—the fabric wasn’t good, the fit was terrible—and yet they were selling it because they had really good branding.”
Seeing an opportunity, Mann launched a denim label in 2010. “Our model was jeans you were going to wear: with good stretch, but really good recovery,” he says. “It’s about good holding of the shape, and feeling very comfortable. That’s something that we don’t joke around with.” Branding, too, was of utmost importance. “We were competing against L.A. brands that started up out of nowhere and had no background in the clothing business,” Mann says of the label, which he named Henry & Belle in honor of his grandparents, “and we wanted to [compare] that with a heritage company that had been around a long time.” Often comprised of a rich blend of cotton, polyester, rayon, and spandex, the moves-with-you denim has become a favorite of celebrities like Eva Longoria, Hilary Duff, Olivia Palermo, and Anne Hathaway as it’s amassed a loyal following. Henry & Belle has proven particularly successful through online subscription-based retailer Stitch Fix, where Henry-Lee and Company sells additional lines like Lila Ryan and Lakeview Denim, and the forthcoming menswear label Henry & Sons.
Subscription-based services and online sales will continue to be a major company-wide initiative thanks to Inter-Brands, the joint-venture partnership Henry-Lee and Company launched earlier this year with LA-based production company B&Y Global Logistics. In short, Mann and team will continue to devote themselves to the hallmark of the company. “It’s critical to have great fit,” says Mann, who—like his grandfather before him—holds meetings at least once a week to view garments on a model. “That was baked into our DNA.”
Mann lives in Highland Park, where he was born and raised. “I’m happy that I have both worlds—the excitement of the city, but the serenity of the North Shore,” he observes. From a business standpoint, he considers the Midwest ideal, “but there’s a sophistication to the North Shore that takes it up a level so you get a sense of, in real-time, what’s important on the coasts.” Of course, the North Shore is simply home. “It’s a wonderful place to have been raised and to raise a family.”
A father of three, Mann notes that his children were able to establish a relationship with their great-grandfather before he passed in December 2001. “I was fortunate, and my children were fortunate, to get to know him,” Mann says of Henry. “Part of why I wanted to come into the business after being in radio was, honestly, I just loved being around him,” he says. “He was larger than life.”
He glides across his office, retrieving a piece of paper from his filing cabinet, which he unfolds. “Henry Mann” is printed across the top, with a message scribbled below in all caps: “The greatest risk is not taking one.” Mann looks at the note, written by his grandfather. “I remember having a conversation with him in 2000, not long before he stopped coming in, and I was talking about all the different things we were trying to do to keep the business moving forward,” he says, smiling. “I think he really respected my willingness to take risks.”
