Drexler has spent his life (under)dressing North America and now he’s bringing his chinos over here

For newcomers to the brand, what exactly is J Crew and why do our overcrowded high streets ‘need’ it? Perhaps it’s easier to say what it’s not, because Drexler has built his 300-plus store and factory outlet empire with sales of $2.2 billion a year by breaking the rules. J Crew, which is majority-owned by US private equity firms, is not fashion. ‘What is fashion? I don’t know,’ he says.

It’s not ‘designer’ because there is no single designer, far less a unified J Crew ‘look’. J Crew sells style — lots of different styles. For men, there are spiffy tweed jackets, tailored dinner suits and smart brogues, but also T-shirts and jeans. Women can buy everything from a button-down shirt to a wedding dress. The look is not American, not European, but somewhere in between. And it’s not just about clothes. J Crew does costume jewellery, watches and beauty products, too.

Drexler has no truck with celebrities — so beloved of other labels, who shower them with

Drexler on the cover of Fortune; liveried taxis for the London store opening; the Obamas are fans free clothes in the hope that they will wear them and get photographed. ‘Celebrities have nothing to do with style,’ he frowns. J Crew does not advertise on TV. There is no shouty branding. J Crew doesn’t even have a logo. ‘Logos are over,’ he sniffs.

The brand does not take itself too seriously. ‘Look at our London telephone box made of confetti! And the tinsel Beefeater hats. I want you to come in and smile,’ Drexler says. The name ‘J Crew’ does not mean anything (it’s made up and the J does not stand for anything). And while the stores and website sell great designs, the prices are a bit more expensive than the likes of M&S — a pair of jewel-toed pumps for £398 and a men’s lambswool sweater for £70 — but a whole lot cheaper than the likes of Gucci. ‘Designer clothes are all overpriced. £1,000 for a blouse? Crazy.’

Most important of all, J Crew doesn’t do the key thing most labels do: tell you how to wear its wares. Through natty window displays, its website and old-fashioned printed lookbooks and catalogues, it merely invites you to come in and work it out for yourself, safe in the knowledge that when you get it right, you will come back for more because, by then, it will feel like your store, not Mickey’s.

Jenna Lyons, 44, who joined J Crew as an assistant 23 years ago, having trained at New York’s Parsons School, and is now president, creative director and Drexler’s right-hand

Crew cuts