The first customers arrive before we’ve even finished talking. They’re visiting from Detroit and have come straight to Jake’s, a compact second-floor shop tucked inside an unassuming building just off Cambridge Heath Road. When I ask how they found it, the woman smiles. “A friend of a friend,” she says. Jake Burt, founder and namesake, immediately recognises the name of the vintage dealer they mention back home.
Within moments, they’re discussing menswear shops in Michigan, mutual friends, and a tuxedo shirt bought months earlier, while cardigans and hoodies migrate steadily from rails to arms. Nobody appears particularly concerned with buying anything. The conversation simply keeps unfolding until, eventually, somebody wanders over to the card reader. Fashion has spent years polishing retail into theatre, where every interaction carries the faint whiff of choreography. Jake’s operates on entirely different instincts. People linger. They double back. Someone accepts a coffee, a slice of cake, or, if they’ve timed it right, one of Jake’s martinis made in the shop’s small kitchen. The afternoon bends around whoever happens to walk through the door. Which is perhaps how a family from Detroit ended up here.
Since opening in late 2024, Jake’s has steadily become one of London’s most talked-about fashion destinations. Open only on weekends and spreading largely through word of mouth rather than marketing, the low-key East London spot sells Burt’s own collections alongside work by friends and collaborators, from Six95 bags to Nina’s Karten handmade cards to Faimann’s accessories. Burt’s Fair Isle knits crowned with leopard-print hoods, reconstructed horse-blanket jackets, and felted shrunken hoodies have developed the sort of reputation usually reserved for much older brands.
Burt spends most Saturdays in the shop himself. He has an unusually sharp sense for reading a room, one he credits less to fashion than an upbringing spent working in his parents’ businesses in Somerset. Furniture shops, market stalls, a cupcake café; retail, in one form or another, has always been part of the family language. “I’ve worked in shops my whole life,” he tells me. “Some people just want to be ignored and look through the clothes. I so get that. Some want loads of attention. I fucking love talking.”
It sounds simple enough. But every friend and customer I speak to eventually lands on a mysterious quality. Ask Stefan Cooke, Burt’s partner of 14 years and collaborator since Central Saint Martins, why Jake’s connects so deeply, and he laughs before giving up on precise words: “There’s something about Jake.”
Cooke, of course, has known Burt for longer than Jake’s has existed. They met at a house party in London while both were studying on the BA at Central Saint Martins, before returning for the college’s prestigious MA and build Stefan’s eponymous label together after graduation. Burt and Cooke have spent the past decade figuring out one of fashion’s least forgiving industries side by side—weathering everything from an independent label’s usual financial acrobatics to the inconvenience of a global pandemic. “He’s incredibly inventive,” Cooke says of his partner. “You’ll be having a conversation and he’ll come up with 10 ideas that are somehow all the best. He’s always thinking about how to make something engaging. It never felt like he wanted his own name on something. There was just something else he needed to say.”
That “something else” had been steadily accumulating for years. While Stefan Cooke found its footing on the runway, Burt found himself collecting ideas that didn’t quite belong there. They arrived as scraps of research, photographs, old garments, half-finished sketches, combinations of colours and fabrics that felt instinctively right—but somehow wrong for the world he and Cooke had built together. Rather than force them into the collection, he filed them away. “I’d come up with things and we could both tell they weren’t right for Stefan Cooke,” Burt says. “I’d just save them.”
And the folder kept growing. Then came Japan. Burt speaks about Tokyo with the enthusiasm of someone recalling a favourite relative rather than a city. Frequent work trips to Korea became an excuse to spend more time in Tokyo, wandering around with stylist Alice Goddard and photographer Theo Sion, both longtime collaborators. Burt would disappear into baseball shops (he’s a Red Sox fan), workwear stores, tiny cafés, kitchen suppliers, impossibly specific vintage boutiques—anywhere that promised to reveal a corner of the city they hadn’t seen before. He researches obsessively before every trip, plotting routes around the places that couldn’t exist anywhere else. What’s stayed with him wasn’t the clothes; it was how those shops made him feel.
On a flight back to London in the summer of 2024, somewhere between Haneda and Heathrow, he turned to his friends with a decision that sounded almost casual: “I’m going to go back and fucking start a shop.”
Back in London, the idea found an unlikely home. The managing director of Stefan Cooke had access to an empty building by Old Street, soon to be redeveloped. Burt claimed a corner of it, bought around £400 of paint, roped his parents into helping him transform the space, and opened the doors. There was no elaborate launch strategy, no investor waiting in the wings, no certainty that anyone beyond a handful of friends would bother showing up. “I took it really seriously,” he laughs. “At the same time, I thought it was really funny. I was having meetings about cakes and furniture and displays, but I was also like, ‘No one could turn up.’”
And yet, they did. First came friends, then curious strangers, then customers returning with friends of their own. The clothes evolved almost as quickly as the conversations happening around them. There were tiny knitted dresses with camouflage hoods, Fruit of the Loom sweatshirts printed with Dennis Cooper quotes, reconstructed T-shirts, and the first horse-blanket jackets, each stitched with a label reading “Jessica Six”—the working title Burt assigned to ideas that lived outside of Stefan Cooke. After one collection, he abandoned the name altogether. “Jake’s just felt more personal,” he says. “Like you were coming to someone’s place.”
If Tokyo planted the seed, New York threw open the doors. Earlier this year, New York Times menswear critic Jacob Gallagher published an affectionate profile of Burt that introduced Jake’s to a much wider American audience—but he’d been organically championing the project long before then. Gallagher first encountered Burt at an early 2025 Brooklyn pop-up after spotting one of his sweaters on Instagram. He bought it almost immediately, and soon realised it was the one thing in his wardrobe complete strangers always wanted to talk about. “People would always ask me what it was,” he tells me. “I don’t own many clothes that do that.” The article fuelled further sold-out pop-ups in New York.
Gallagher believes Burt’s appeal lies in its community. “It feels like the way people used to buy clothes,” he says. “You’d walk into a place because somebody made interesting things, you’d chat to them, and if something spoke to you, you’d take it home.” Jake’s, he suggests, feels like “entering a friend’s living room.”
When Jake’s returned to New York for a pop-up this spring, the queue stretched through the building before the doors had even opened. Almost everything sold out by sundown. Burt spoke to every customer himself, apologised for the wait, encouraged them to take their time, and politely refused one particularly determined request that a well-known influencer jump ahead. Burt shrugs at the memory. “Why would he skip the queue? All these people have waited two hours.” It neatly captures the philosophy behind Jake’s. The person buying their first hoodie receives exactly the same welcome as the stylist shopping for a Hollywood actor. Fame might open plenty of doors in fashion; at Jake’s, it still waits its turn outside.
The irony is that Burt isn’t particularly interested in remaining small. He talks excitedly about opening Jake’s in New York, Tokyo, Seoul, Los Angeles, and Melbourne, imagining neighbourhood shops run by those who understand their cities better than he ever could. Not flagships or temples to luxury, but places with their own regulars and rhythms; you might wander in on a Saturday afternoon without intending to buy anything at all. “The fantasy is to have shops around the world and travel between them,” he says.
As we wrap up, the conversation drifts again to people over pieces. Burt tells me about someone who works for the Welsh company that restores the horse blankets he turns into jackets; they mentioned that their horse had died after 18 years together, so he offered to turn one of its blankets into a bomber jacket. They haven’t even met properly yet. It feels entirely in keeping with Jake’s. Before a garment reaches the rail, there’s a story attached to it.
Back in the shop, another customer pushes open the door. Jake looks up and asks where they’ve come from. Twenty minutes later, they’re still talking.
Henrik Lischke, 28, Fashion Editor
I discovered Jake’s… Years ago. I trialled one of its miniskirts for the Sunday Times. What I love about the brand is… Jake’s incredible eye for colour, composition, fit, texture, and form. Today I bought… A Six95 pendant necklace by Bristol-based designer Sally Kite. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Happy to spend my money without a trace of guilt.
Sally Kite, 37, Designer
I discovered Jake’s… When he reached out just before opening the shop, after spotting one of my Six95 bags on a mutual friend. I’ve been making bags and accessories for Jake’s ever since. What I love about the brand is… The clothes are cool, easy, and never feel precious. Today I bought… The hoodie. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Like myself.
Nicola Neri, 34, Stylist
What I love about the brand is… So many of the pieces are made using waste yarns, deadstock fabrics, and repurposed materials. I love the idea of giving something a second life. Today I bought… Another striped jumper, with the unfinished edge. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Elegant and comfortable. On the way here, I was listening to… Robyn.
Adam Iezzi, 52, Founder, AI PR
I discovered Jake’s… Through my work with Stefan Cooke. What I love about the brand is… It has soul, which feels like the antithesis of what “luxury” means today. Today I bought… A white Six95 belt. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Young. On the way here, I was listening to… Robyn. So far, I’ve collected… About half a dozen pieces.
Vincent Pons, 33, Stylist
What I love about the brand is… The sense of community. And Jake’s makes the best martinis. Next visit, I’m hoping to buy… The knits in every colour and collect them like toys. Jake’s pieces make me feel… All sorts. On the way here, I was listening to… Addison Rae. So far, I’ve collected… A few Faimann bandana keychains. But I’m only just getting started.
Eleanor Butler-Jones, 29, Knitwear Designer
What I love about the brand is… Everything feels one of a kind. Next visit, I’m hoping to buy… Even though we make the knitwear for Jake’s, I only own one Fair Isle leopard-hood cardigan. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Warm. They’re new, but they already feel lived-in. On the way here, I was listening to… “Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge.
Emily Powick, 28, Brand and Communications Consultant
I discovered Jake’s… Through a mutual friend. I was there when he opened the first shop in Hoxton. Today I bought… My mum the leopard-print cardigan she’s been asking for. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Like I’ve found my corner of London. On the way here, I was listening to… CONFESSIONS II by Madonna and “Molly In The Club” by Sophia Stel.
Luke Cassar, 30, Sales Director at JW Anderson
What I love about the brand is… The stories behind the pieces are incredible, but the shop itself has become a real landmark. I’ve missed places in London where you’re guaranteed to bump into friends or make new ones. Next visit, I’m hoping to buy… One of the new reversible jackets. So far, I’ve collected… One beautifully patinated horse-blanket jacket.
Eli Richards, 26, Stylist
I discovered Jake’s… Working on Stefan Cooke shows. What I love about the brand is… Everything looks good on me. Next visit, I’m hoping to buy… One of the Guernsey jumpers. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Like the best-dressed kid in sixth form. On the way here, I was listening to… My mum, asking if Jake had any green hoodies left.
Marta Úrbez, 29, Art Director
I discovered Jake’s… By word of mouth. What I love about the brand is… Jake’s is endlessly specific. He’s built a richly imagined world, and you can tell he’s having fun with it. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Nostalgic. Every piece feels like a better version of something I would’ve died to own in high school. On the way here, I was listening to… The Sundays.
Zac Klein, 27, Head of Marketing & PR at AllSaints
I discovered Jake’s… Through my very fashionable friends. What I love about the brand is… Jake. Next visit, I’m hoping to buy… The cream sweater with the T-shirt skirt detail. It’ll be mine soon. Jake’s pieces make me feel… As cool as my best friends. On the way here, I was listening to… “Army of Me” by Björk. An elite karaoke song.
Louis Thompson, 28, Chef
I discovered Jake’s… Over coffee in 2024. He asked if I’d bake for the shop. Next visit, I’m hoping to buy… The mauve horse-blanket jacket with the grey shearling collar. My god. I’m also still thinking about the Six95 watch with the dice face. Jake’s pieces make me feel… Bad as fuck. So far, I’ve collected… Three Faimann pieces.