The Hamilton Spectator

Needlepoin­t fad began when a girl wanted to impress a boy

- ROXANNE ROBERTS

In the never-ending quest for that perfect guy gift, a small company in Bethesda, Maryland, has cornered a niche market of male preppy chic: needlepoin­t belts. In fact, it’s fair to say that Smathers & Branson is the world’s pre-eminent men’s needlepoin­t accessorie­s brand. If that’s your thing.

It’s a U.S. presidenti­al thing: George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton have both been spotted wearing the company’s American flag belt. And a sports thing: Peyton and Eli Manning have needlepoin­t belts bearing the logos of their alma maters. And a hobby thing, because for some people, sailing or golfing or Christmas movies aren’t a complete experience unless there’s a needlepoin­t version wrapped around their waist.

Call it traditiona­l, WASPy, classic or tongue-in-cheek, but it’s working. The 10-year-old company is featured in 1,500 stores, including J. Crew and Nordstrom.

On a recent day, the Bethesda offices in an unassuming strip mall are empty. All the employees, including official dog greeter Moose, are two floors below, in the warehouse, furiously packing belts, wallets, hats, flasks, key fobs and other needlepoin­t adornments to arrive before Christmas Eve.

It all began, as so many things do, because a girl wanted to impress a boy.

The company started at Bowdoin College in Maine, where Austin Branson and Peter Smathers Carter were roommates. Austin, 34, grew up in Bethesda and went to St. Albans; Peter, 33, attended Deerfield Academy in Massachuse­tts before returning to his native Maine.

It really started in Italy, where Austin fell in love during the fall of his junior year. His girlfriend, a fellow exchange student, made him a needlepoin­t belt for his 21st birthday: little pink elephants drinking martinis and his initials. He thought it was sweet but didn’t really get the significan­ce of the gesture.

“It meant nothing to me at the time,” he says, sitting in his decidedly modest office. “I dutifully wore it.”

Turns out that among a certain set, handmade needlepoin­t belts are a sign of a serious relationsh­ip, like exchanging class rings or other tokens of love. One belt can take 4050 hours to stitch, then has to be sent away to be completed.

With the parts and assembly, the cost runs up to $300 — a considerab­le investment for a college student. (They’re also known as “breakup belts,” because so many relationsh­ips end before the belt is finished.)

Austin just wanted to keep his girlfriend happy and wore the belt around campus where, to his surprise, he received a lot of compliment­s. A few months later, Peter received a handmade belt with sailboats from the girl he was dating.

The two friends started brainstorm­ing: Nothing similar was available in stores. What if they could get the price down and customers didn’t have to wait six months? A business was born. The first year they sold 1,000 belts, mostly by driving up and down the east coast and walking into small men’s stores wearing their product. The business grew slowly, expanding to key fobs, wallets, flasks, dog collars, hats and pillows, introducin­g about a dozen new designs each season.

They’re not sure how Clinton got one, but he has been spotted wearing it a few times, most notably at an Obama rally with Bruce Springstee­n.

Hand-stitched needlepoin­t doesn’t come cheap: Belts retail for $165, wallets for $115, flasks for $65, all U. S. dollars. Last year they sold 250,000 belts and other accessorie­s.

Lest you question the power of the needlepoin­t belt, remember the girl who made that first one for Austin?

He married her.

 ?? SMATHERS & BRANSON ?? Smathers & Branson started with needlepoin­t belts and now sell wallets, flasks and dog collars, too.
SMATHERS & BRANSON Smathers & Branson started with needlepoin­t belts and now sell wallets, flasks and dog collars, too.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada