This story originally appeared on the Gents Cafe Newsletter. You can subscribe here.
Sometimes, knowing how to break some rules while still honouring heritage is the best way forward for companies built on a long, solid history—maybe abandoning the rigidity of formal wear in favour of a more relaxed, contemporary approach to shirtmaking.
This is exactly what Peter Jüriado did after being appointed Head of Design at Stenströms, championing what he defines as a formal-relaxed philosophy. Pushing on ease instead of traditional stiffness, he helped the 125-year-old company stay agile by treating its heritage “not as a heavy trunk, but as a light carry-on bag.”
In this Brand Talks interview, we sat down with Peter to discuss the evolution of the shirt and the art of staying relevant across generations, and how Swedish Royalty and a young Ralph Lauren cross paths in the history of the brand.
Your path into menswear is anything but conventional — from training as an electrical engineer to becoming Stenströms’ Head of Design. Can you take us through that transition, and share how your background has shaped the way you approach design, craftsmanship, and problem-solving today?
While studying in university in Norrköping, I found myself increasingly drawn to aesthetics—whether it was cars, architecture, or clothing; and to support my studies, I worked in a menswear shop, which felt less like a job and more like an exploration of a world I truly enjoyed.
After completing my military service in the Swedish Royal Navy, I had a brief stint at Ericsson, but it quickly became clear that the rigid engineering world wasn’t my calling. Life has a way of intervening; I met a Danish girl, moved to Helsingborg—where Stenströms is based—and returned to menswear retail. I was quickly scouted by Stenströms to work in sales at the factory.
At that time, Stenströms was a very traditional business-wear company. We catered to the gentleman who wore a suit and a white shirt nearly every day; we weren’t “design-driven”; we were “quality-driven” in an elevated, but still somehow basic, way. Having worked in shops that were among the first in Sweden to carry brands like Ralph Lauren, I saw a different horizon, where jeans, sport jackets, and a more relaxed sensibility were beginning to take hold.
When the owner, Anders Bengtsson, eventually offered me the role of Head of Design, my reaction wasn’t simple gratitude. I told him, “If I take this, we need to change a lot of things.” To his credit, he trusted me. Since then, our approach has changed, and I must say we have also grown considerably as a company.
Looking back, my background in engineering has certainly driven my path to some degree. Engineering is essentially about problem-solving and curiosity. You have to be curious about how things work to make them better. While I’m certainly the more “creative” type with occasionally crazy ideas, that rational foundation helps me look at the market and the product with a certain discipline.
Today, we produce 700,000 shirts a year. Maintaining that volume while keeping our Royal Warrant-level quality is a massive technical and creative challenge. If you don’t listen to the market and how people are actually dressing, you become a niche relic very quickly. My goal has always been to keep Stenströms moving forward without losing the soul of the factory that sits right behind my desk.
If you don’t listen to the market and how people are actually dressing, you become a niche relic very quickly.
You’ve described the brand’s aesthetic as “formal-relaxed.” What does that term mean to you, and how do you achieve that mix of elegance and ease in your collections?
At our core, we are a formal company. We are a Swedish Royal Warrant holder; the King and Queen wear our products, and we are a primary source for evening wear, tuxedos, and tailcoats. But when I entered this business, the rules were incredibly rigid—if you weren’t wearing a tie or the exact right shoes, you were “out of uniform.”
My personal aesthetic was shaped differently. In school, I lived in Levi’s 501s, not suits. So when I joined Stenströms, I wanted to ensure our shirts worked just as well with a pair of denim as they did with a navy suit. “Formal-relaxed” is about removing the sense of a “uniform” and replacing it with personal style. It means softening the linings of the collars and cuffs—taking a page from Italian tailoring—to prioritize comfort and ease.
The goal is for our pieces to be an extension of your life seven days a week. Whether you are in the heart of Stockholm or Milan surrounded by navy suits, or in a smaller city wearing a washed casual shirt and a knitted jacket, the transition should feel effortless. If a product feels too complicated to wear or requires a specific “costume” to work, the consumer loses interest. We want you to wear the shirt because you love the quality and the softness, not just because the occasion demands it.
Stenströms has remained family-owned and has celebrated 125 years in business — an incredible heritage. How do you balance the weight of that history with the need to keep the brand fresh and relevant for today’s generation?
The honest answer is that we don’t think about it too much. We just do the work. I don’t see our heritage as a heavy old trunk on my shoulders; I see it more like a well packed carry-on bag. It’s filled with essential investments and lessons from our past, but it’s light enough that we can still move quickly and change direction when we need to.
In Sweden, Stenströms is almost a rite of passage. You wear our shirt when you graduate, and you can still be buying them when you’re 90. We aren’t a “fashion brand” in the volatile sense; we make ageless, quality products. I see my friends’ sons wearing the same pieces as my father. That longevity allows us to be bold. We don’t have to be precious and say, “We can’t do this because of our history.” Instead, we use that history as a foundation to take the next extra step.
A great deal of my inspiration in design comes from the intersection of Scandinavian heritage and Italian DNA: I spend a lot of time in Italy, working closely with the best suppliers in the world, like Canclini and Albini,. Their innate sense of aesthetics combined with our Northern perspective is a very strong match. But beyond the technical side, I also find inspiration by simply watching people and staying close to our customers. You have to understand what people actually need today rather than just imposing your own ideas.
Stenströms shirts are renowned for their meticulous construction – 23 components, 60 steps, and numerous quality checks. Can you share a bit about why these old-school shirtmaking techniques still matter today, and perhaps highlight a detail you’re particularly proud of?
In the end, a shirt is a sum of its parts: the fabric, the trims, and the construction. We are fortunate to work with some great suppliers to find the exact right construction for our textiles. While some makers today rely heavily on chemicals and non-iron finishes to make a shirt “easy to handle,” we remain a bit old-school.
We prioritize high-density weaves and long-staple cotton. Yes, you might have to iron it a little more, but you get to truly feel the fabric. To me, the sensory experience of the cloth and the longevity of the garment are far more important than a chemical coating. It’s about how many times you can wear the product over years, not just how it looks coming out of the dryer.
In terms of details, I am particularly fond of our buttons. We use genuine Mother of Pearl, sourced from a fantastic Italian supplier. I consider the button to be the “pearl” of the product. Many brands cut corners here, but if you are using a beautiful, durable fabric, you have a responsibility to use beautiful components. That harmony is what creates a product that lasts.
I am also proud to say that we are a brand that people genuinely like to share. It’s common for a father to wear Stenströms and for his son to follow suit—not upon a forcing, but because they both recognize the quality.
We don’t spend massive amounts of money on loud commercials or flashy marketing; instead, we reinvest that money into the product itself. We’ve found that when people understand the product, they become our best ambassadors. There is a lot of competition out there, but having your customers organically promote you because they believe in what you’re making is the best marketing there is.
If you had to tell the story of Stenströms through three of your most iconic garments, which ones would you choose — and what part of the journey does each represent?
While we have evolved into a complete “shirt concept” brand that includes knitwear and vests, the shirt remains our soul. Choosing three icons to represent our journey is actually quite revealing of how the industry has changed.
First, I must choose our Basic White Shirt. It sounds simple, perhaps even boring, but it is our most important product. While the specific fabrics have shifted over a century, from English mills to Swiss cotton and now primarily fine Italian twills, the philosophy remains unchanged. Today, it is a two-fold cotton with Mother of Pearl buttons, offered in various fits and sleeve lengths. It represents our foundation.
The second is our Casual Washed Shirt. This represents our first major transition from being a strictly formal company to embracing “formal-relaxed.” Usually, when brands make a casual shirt, they use cheaper fabrics because the garment will be washed anyway. We did the opposite. We took our high-end two-fold fabrics, used soft floating interlinings, and washed them to achieve a lived-in softness. It is the “new formal” for the man who wants to look sharp in jeans or cotton trousers without feeling like he’s in a uniform.
The third choice is our Casual Linen Shirt, and I have to take personal responsibility for this one. When I started, we made linen shirts in a very formal, stiff way. I pushed to wash the linen and use unfused, “bubbly” interlinings in the cuffs and collars to deliver a relaxed, effortless aesthetic. It has since become one of our biggest sellers.
If I may, I would also add a “bonus” mention from about 20 years ago, the period when we experimented with contrast trims and colorful buttons. To be honest, as a designer, I’m not always “proud” of those louder details—I personally prefer a clean white shirt with a tie—but that era taught us something important. Much like the philosophy of Jacob Cohen jeans, it showed us that even a staple garment can be reinvented through small, surprising details. It helped us realize that a shirt can be many different things to many different men.
If you were advising someone approaching menswear with intention, what guiding principles would you suggest for building a wardrobe meant to evolve over decades rather than seasons?
The foundation of a wardrobe meant to last is built on a few key investments. When I was starting out, not even in my twenties, saving up for a pair of shoes from a maker like Church’s felt like a monumental event. But that’s the secret: if you buy the correct things, they last for a lifetime. I still have shoes from Crockett & Jones and shirts from Stenströms that are 25 or 30 years old.
Our shirts often last longer than the consumer’s patience for them—or, in some cases, longer than their waistline allows. If you invest in high-quality items and maintain a clean fit with a palette of natural colors, you create a timeless rotation. It really starts with what I call “anchor” pieces; for instance, everyone needs a well-made navy blue jacket. It’s the ultimate chameleon that you can pair with jeans, cotton chinos, or grey flannel trousers to dress up or down as needed.
Of course, quality only truly lasts if you respect it. How you wash your shirts, how you brush your shoes, and how you store your suits determines their lifespan much more than the label does. Even the most expensive garment fails if the fit is off, so a proper silhouette is what keeps a piece relevant as trends cycle in and out. Ultimately, choosing “slow” fashion is the most effective way to fight the waste of the modern industry. Buying fewer, better things is better for the planet, even if it means we sell you fewer shirts over your lifetime.
I still have made-to-measure suits from 20 years ago that I refuse to get rid of. Even if I haven’t worn them recently, the quality is so exceptional that they still feel like an investment worth keeping. It’s a bit of an occupational hazard, but it proves the point: when something is made well, you simply don’t want to let it go.
Buying fewer, better things is better for the planet, even if it means we sell you fewer shirts over your lifetime.
Stenströms has outfitted Swedish royalty and countless discerning customers worldwide. Do you have a favorite story that illustrates the kind of relationship the brand has with its customers or the community?
There are so many stories told into the company, but there is one legendary tale from the early 70s that I’ve heard countless times from my predecessors. At that time, Stenströms was trying to make inroads in the United States. We had a small showroom—I believe it was in the Empire State Building—managed by a gentleman named Jesper.
As the story goes, there was another young guy working nearby who was just starting out, selling a few ties. He didn’t have much money back then, so when they went out for hamburgers, Jesper would usually pick up the tab. That young guy turned out to be Ralph Lauren. While we didn’t exactly conquer the American market in that specific decade, we at least had enough in the bank to buy Ralph a few lunches.
Another fascinating piece of lore involves the 1974 film The Towering Inferno. It was one of the first great “disaster” epics, starring an incredible ensemble of legends like Paul Newman, Steve McQueen, and Robert Redford. Supposedly, through Jesper’s connections in the States, nearly every one of those famous actors is wearing a Stenströms shirt in the movie.
Whether it was a formal partnership or just a matter of being in the right place with the right product, it’s a story that has been passed down through generations here. We don’t have anyone left from that era to confirm every detail, but hearing it from so many different people over the years makes it feel like an essential part of our mythos.
On your website, you mention the importance of both your staff and your customers — and you describe your stores as spaces where there is still time for contemplation and humanistic values. What does that look like in practice?
When I started at Stenströms, I came from “nothing”: I was just a young guy working in a shop. What struck me then, and what remains true now, is that people truly saw me. They believed in my potential. Even as we’ve grown from a small operation into a much larger company, we’ve fought to keep a flat organization. Every person, whether they work in the warehouse or the design studio, is vital. We talk to each other, we have fun, and we move as one team.
Last year, to celebrate our anniversary, we took nearly the entire company—about 100 people—on a trip to Italy. We visited our suppliers at Albini and our button makers at Barbieri to show everyone the craftsmanship behind the components we use every day. We finished the week together in Sanremo. It was a massive undertaking logistically, but it was essential. It’s about ensuring everyone feels connected to the soul of the product.
In practice, these “humanistic values” mean that our relationships aren’t just transactional. Whether it’s with our suppliers or our customers, we value the conversation. In a world where most brands sell a product and immediately stop caring, we prioritize the human element. We put an emphasis on a “slower,” more respectful way of doing business.
It’s hard to put into words, but it’s something you feel when you step into our showroom. There isn’t a rigid hierarchy where only “important” people handle guests. Everyone is involved. We might pick a customer up from their hotel ourselves or all go out for dinner together. We work hard, but we never want to lose that sense of community. Right now, we have about 60 people in Helsingborg and 100 in our Estonian production facility; keeping that group feeling like a family is what makes the work meaningful.
Beyond menswear, what are your main passions — and in what ways do they quietly echo through the clothes you create?
Music is perhaps my deepest passion outside of shirting. I used to play guitar in a band for many years, and while I don’t pick up the instrument as often as I’d like, I’m still quite a “nerd” when it comes to sound. I’ve invested a bit too much in my home Hi-Fi system; I’m particularly focused on high-resolution, lossless digital formats. I want to hear the music with the same clarity and detail that I look for in a fabric weave.
On a Friday night, I love nothing more than skipping the television, pouring a glass of wine, and simply sitting down to listen. Whether it’s jazz, classical, or something modern, music provides a sense of contemplation. Unfortunately, we often relegate music to the background while we work or drive—but taking that dedicated time to sit with a cup of coffee and truly listen, to focus on the resolution and the layers of a piece, surely reflects in the way I approach a new collection. You have to slow down to see the details. It’s about seeking out the best resolution in life, whether that’s in a piece of music or the hand-feel of a new textile. After all, it’s all part of the same pursuit of quality.
