The Style Issue
SHINOLA
BURN RUBBER
DE’TWAH LUXURY EYEWEAR
JOSHUA GOLD
CUSTOM CLOTHIER
Style Defined
Welcome to the Style Issue.
Style is our distinctive appearance and the way we put ourselves together. Style is confidence. Through the choices we make in clothing and accessories, we communicate a message about ourselves. Quiet elegance, bold statements or a combination of both - style can be redefined and reimagined over our lives. Nothing says Style more than taking the time to invest in pieces that are well crafted, well thought out and made to last. In a world of fast fashion, true style stands the test of time: talented makers creating pieces that last, inspire and invoke a sense of pride when wearing.
Inside this issue, you'll pause time with Shinola and learn about what it feels like to wear a story. You'll be walked through the brand, the styles and the Detroit built legacy that is Shinola.
You’ll meet a premier Royal Oak tastemaker, the impeccable Josh Breshgold of Joshua Gold Custom Clothier. Josh shows us the quiet confidence behind style. You will learn about feeding your rubber soul with Roland Coit, the powerhouse behind both inspirational hubs Burn Rubber and Two18. And finally, you will meet the impressive duo Rachel and Candice, owners of De'Twah Luxury Eyewear, a boutique where eyewear becomes art.
Here's to your personal style,
AMY GILLESPIE, PUBLISHER
@ROYALOAKCITYLIFESTYLE
September 2025
PUBLISHER
Amy Gillespie | amy.gillespie@citylifestyle.com
MANAGING EDITOR
Marshall Zweig | marshall.zweig@citylifestyle.com
CONTRIBUTING WRITER
Marshall Zweig
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHER
Amy Gillespie
Corporate Team
CEO Steven Schowengerdt
COO Matthew Perry
CRO Jamie Pentz
VP OF OPERATIONS Janeane Thompson
VP OF SALES Andrew Leaders
AD DESIGNER Rachel Kolich
LAYOUT DESIGNER Kirstan Lanier
QUALITY
inside the issue
Time Well Spent
Inside Shinola’s remarkable resurrection—and what makes the brand truly timeless
Tailor-Made Transformation
Exploring custom clothier Josh Breshgold’s holistic approach to style
Rubber Soul
Inside Roland Coit’s Burn Rubber, where style starts with the shoes, and sneakers spark confidence
Two women. One dream. The city’s chicest frames
Shinola’s classic Runwell watch in white.
Photography: Amy Gillespie
1: Mandisa and Naajma (formerly of Detroit Fiber Works) exhibited works of over 100 artists. 2: Mandisa talking with a client at her previous shop, Detroit Fiber Works. 3: A scarf from Mandisa’s fiber art collection. 4: Custom leather goods. 5: A dress from Mandisa’s fiber art collection. 6: Mandisa’s custom dyed scarfs. 7: Mandisa, owner of Akoma Art House: vibrant creative sanctuary rooted in art, earth, and community. Find out more at: akomadetroit.com
well TIME SPENT
If you’ve heard of Shinola, you might know a few things: Detroit. Watches. Leather. Possibly even that former president Barack Obama toured the Detroit factory. But you might not know how deep the story goes—or how wide.
ARTICLE BY MARSHALL ZWEIG
PHOTOGRAPHY BY AMY GILLESPIE
So if you’re expecting this story to be merely about precision timepieces and American grit, get ready to be surprised.
The picture Shinola’s chief marketing officer Kevin Wertz paints for me is something bigger and better.
“You don’t just wear a watch,” Kevin says. “You wear a story.”
Shinola’s story is remarkable: legions of devoted fans don’t just buy their watches—they also make the brand part of their lifestyle. “We wanted to be the American watchmaker, sure,” Kevin admits. “But we also make turntables. Leather bags. A hotel that might be the most beautiful in Detroit. You get to tell a different story in different categories, but the core of the story is the same.”
I ask what the core of the story is, and Kevin doesn’t hesitate: Shinola is an American brand for people who don’t want to advertise their wealth.
“We don’t scream luxury,” Kevin notes. “We don’t need to. Our watches are worn by people who could buy anything, but choose Shinola. And we’re not trend-driven. We’re not fast fashion. That’s what makes us feel timeless,” Kevin says. “We stay true to who we are.”
Who Shinola is is something once common, now all too rare: long-lasting, American-made quality. The leather bags? Designed to look better with age, to develop a patina customers treasure. The watches? Tested more rigorously than many Swiss brands. And they’re assembled in Detroit by workers Shinola carefully trained.
“We literally re-skilled workers,” Kevin explains. “We’ve been teaching people to assemble watch movements and sew leather straps—for over a decade.”
Obama isn’t the only former president who wears Shinola: so does Bill Clinton. Legendary comedian Jerry Seinfeld sports one too. Even the owner of the reigning Super Bowl champion Philadelphia Eagles lifted the Lombardi Trophy while wearing a Shinola watch.
But celebrity isn’t the goal, Kevin tells me; it’s a byproduct: “We’re not courting fame,” he notes. “We’re building culture. Quietly.”
CONTINUED >
Their timepiece commemorating hip-hop legend and Detroit native J Dilla proved that. They made just 650 watches total. They sold out before the public launch. And now? They’re selling for a premium on eBay.
“That was a moment,” Kevin says. “It’s not just a product drop. It’s cultural cachet. And when those moments string together—the hotel, the turntable, the Dilla collab—you start to form a different kind of relationship with the brand.”
I ask Kevin what celebrity figure from the past he could see being a fan of Shinola. He offers a name that couldn’t be more fitting. “Henry Ford. What he did for manufacturing, for American jobs…I think he’d appreciate what we’re doing here.”
It tracks. Shinola keeps drawing names tied to legacy, intention, craft. And in that spirit, Kevin tells me about the watch he wears: The Mechanic, a fully analog, hand-wound piece.
“There’s no battery. No automation. If you don’t wind it, it doesn’t work,” he says. “It’s a relationship.”
A relationship. That’s the essence of life as human beings. And while every brand wants one with its customers, few actually earn it. Shinola, it seems, does.
As the conversation winds down, I ask what Kevin hopes people always associate with the name Shinola. The answer comes quickly: “American manufacturing,” he says. Then he adds, “And quality. People recognize the quality. And that builds a bond.”
A bond. A relationship. That’s where Shinola the brand seems to live: in the quiet trust between maker and wearer. Which is fitting. Because in the end, relationships aren’t just about keeping time. They’re about spending time together.
To feel what it’s like to wear a story, visit shinola.com
EXPLORING CUSTOM CLOTHIER JOSH BRESHGOLD’S HOLISTIC APPROACH TO STYLE
Tailor-Made Transformation
ARTICLE BY MARSHALL ZWEIG | PHOTOGRAPHY BY AMY GILLESPIE
“They’re wearing like ten percent of their closet.
The rest is collecting dust.”
Josh Breshgold’s love of clothing started not with access, but with absence. “I wanted it, but I couldn’t have it,” he says of the contrast between his classmates’ wardrobes and his annual Kmart trip. “That probably made me want it even more.”
Then came his bar mitzvah. Most kids fidget in formalwear. But at thirteen, wearing his first suit, Josh felt something shift. “A lot of kids don’t want to wear that stuff. But I liked it,” he says. “It had an impact.”
The moment didn’t spark his career. It simply planted a seed, a quiet awareness that the way we dress can affect the way we feel, and the way the world sees us.
Years later, a summer apprenticeship in Singapore watered that seed.
It was 2007. Josh was a 19-year-old student at Western Michigan University who wanted out of his bubble. So he flew halfway across the world to work—for next to nothing—in a Singapore tailoring shop. “I told them I’d get coffee, run errands, whatever. I just wanted to learn,” he says.
They agreed. And then they tested him. “The owner dropped me off at a random bus stop and said, ‘Find your way to the shop,’” Josh recalls. He passed the test—and in doing so, he found his footing in this new world. “I still live by that,” Josh reflects. “You have to get uncomfortable to grow.”
Within days, Josh knew custom clothing was his path. “People came in to see who was making their clothes. It was personal, relational. I loved that.”
He also learned something else from his mentor in Singapore: to trust his instincts. “You’re never going to learn if you don’t cut what you think you should cut,” Josh recalls. “Make the mistake. You’ll learn way more than if you just play it safe.”
Today, Josh is the founder of Joshua Gold Custom Clothier, headquartered in Royal Oak with clients across the state. His philosophy? Less noise. More intention.
“I’m not chasing trends,” he says. “I want to make things you could’ve worn 10 years ago or 10 years from now.”
In other words, what Josh creates isn’t just about style; it’s about understanding his clients. He starts with questions most stores never ask. How much do you travel? Run hot or cold? What’s your morning like? “I make shirt tails longer for guys who reach into overhead bins. I add waistband rubber so shirts don’t ride up. It’s all based on real life,” he explains.
He calls it a holistic wardrobe: clothes that reflect your lifestyle before they reshape your image. “We’re adding clothes,” Josh notes, “that add confidence. Comfort. Utility. Joy.”
Josh launched his business in 2009—mid-recession—with zero clients and one product: custom shirts. He spent his final weeks of college cold-calling every lawyer in Michigan: “They’re reachable. And they wear suits.”
He'd make 100 calls a day. Get ten callbacks. Book two appointments. Rinse and repeat. “It sucked,” he says. “But I was stubborn.”
Now he has a full showroom and a team. But that early resolve still shows—in the way
I want clients to wear the hell out of every piece they own. “ ”
he delivers a rush order before a client’s trial, or remembers a client’s spouse’s name before the second fitting. It’s beyond craftsmanship; it’s commitment to his clients, some of whom he’s seen cry in the fitting room.
“They’re 50, successful, but never spent time on themselves,” Josh explains. “And then they try on something that actually fits. They feel seen.”
Josh recalls a man with a terminal illness, brought in by his son for one last celebration. “He was in pain. But when he looked in the mirror, he smiled. That stuck with me.”
Moments like that reveal the quiet truth behind Josh’s work: custom clothing is about building a relationship with yourself.
“It’s a form of self-care,” Josh says. “I see clients twice a year. They don’t have to think about clothes. They just know they’ll look good.”
Josh has noticed how little of most men’s wardrobes actually get worn. “They’re wearing like 10 percent of their closet. The rest is collecting dust.” So he developed his flex suit: a streamlined, versatile look designed to mix and match. “Fewer, better pieces,” he says. “I want clients to wear the hell out of every piece they own.”
That includes date nights—an event many men in long-term relationships tend to overlook. “You see a couple on a date and it looks like the woman put so much effort in…and the guy’s wearing a huge, ugly golf polo. I just think it shows more respect to your partner if you actually try.”
He’s quick to remind people that trying doesn’t mean you have to become a clothes snob. “We’re approachable. I make this very clear when I hire anyone: this is not the shop that judges people. We’re not the snooty store. I know what it’s like to grow up with less, to not have. So we welcome everyone.”
I wonder what experience Josh intends for his clients to have.
“I want people to feel taken care of,” he says. “That someone put real thought into how they move through the world.”
My takeaway: clothing is more than clothing. It’s the thing that helps you lift your head a little higher.
And Josh Breshgold? He’s the one who makes sure it fits: your frame, your life, your moment.
Ready for a wardrobe that fits your life? Visit Josh at 206 W. 6th Street, or online at joshua-gold.com
RUBBER SOUL
Inside Roland Coit’s Burn Rubber, where style starts with the shoes, and sneakers spark confidence
ARTICLE BY MARSHALL ZWEIG
PHOTOGRAPHY BY AMY GILLESPIE
Roland “Ro Spit” Coit tells me when he gets dressed every morning, he begins by choosing the sneakers he’s going to wear. In an instant, that revelation helps me understand the community he’s built.
Roland owns Burn Rubber, one of Michigan’s most beloved and esteemed sneaker boutiques. Burn Rubber and its sister store,
“I just couldn’t believe what I was looking at. Seeing Michael Jordan fly through the air... that took over my world.”
Two18, have teamed up with giants like Reebok, New Balance, and Jordan Brand. Yet for Roland, the shop’s about building a community for folks like him—folks who start their outfits with their kicks.
"Burn Rubber is a lifestyle," he tells me. "It’s an inspirational hub."
How did the store begin? Roland got a sign from the universe. And he acted on it.
Back in the early 2000s, Roland was DJing and rapping. Friends called him Ro, and he was ‘spitting’ rhymes, “so I put the two together: Ro Spit."
To make ends meet, Roland was also cleaning and transporting cars at Enterprise Rent-A-Car, unsure what came next. One day, a sharply dressed customer asked Ro what he loved.
"I was like, I'm in a rut. I don't know what I want to do with my life," Roland remembers. The man asked him what he’d do for the rest of his life for free.
"Sneakers," Roland replied. The man told him, "Then you gotta find a way to make money doing it." And just like that, he stepped out of the car and was gone.
"I never even got his name," Roland says. "I'm still talking about that moment 20 years later.
And so are his devoted clients. To understand what Burn Rubber really is, you have to understand Roland himself.
"You can’t put me in a box," he says. "I'm multifaceted. I rap, I DJ, I act…and I'm a businessman."
Burn Rubber and Two18 reflect that ethos. "I'm from Pontiac; I'm no different than the next guy that was born two doors down,” Roland reflects. “But I show people that whatever it is your mind can come up with—it can be done."
The store’s clients range from 70-year-olds coming in to talk about Pro-Keds, to 14-year-olds just beginning to discover their style. “You're not judged,”
Roland says. "The coolest thing is seeing kids come in, and then when they become artists, designers, engineers, they say, 'I'm doing this because of Burn Rubber.' That's the warm fuzzy."
I tell Roland my own memory of gymshoes with a cache of coolness: a hand-me-down pair of black Jack Purcells. My ankles had no support—but the comments and looks I got made up for it.
Roland grins. "Same. My parents couldn't afford the name-brand stuff, so I wore Stadiums—that was Kinney Shoes' in-store brand. I remember counting them…I had 18 pairs in my closet."
The first pair that blew his mind? A black-and-cement Jordan 3.
"I just couldn't believe what I was looking at," he says. "Seeing Michael Jordan fly through the air...that kind of took over my world."
When we do the interview in August, Roland tells me he’s been wearing the same pair every day for the last week: Rare Air Jordan 3s. "That's rare for me," he says. "I’ve been riding my moped from Auburn Hills to Royal Oak, and I know people driving are going to look at my shoes. I’m hoping someone says, 'Man, I saw those shoes,' and comes into the store. Maybe they sell out—all because of me!"
When I ask what style means to Roland, he doesn’t hesitate: "Style is confidence. It's saying, 'I'm secure with who I am to put this on.' That's way more stylish than spending $3,000 on a Louis Vuitton T-shirt."
I wonder whether confidence grows the more you figure out your style. Roland says no. "Confidence starts from within. It starts when you say, 'This is who I am. Whether you like me or not, this makes me happy.'"
“I’m from Pontiac. I’m no different than the next guy that was born two doors down. But I show people that whatever it is your mind can come up with—it can be done.”
Roland’s point of view resonates with me; I felt more comfortable in my own skin just listening to him. Major shoe brands see Roland the same way, and line up to collaborate with him. But Roland says creating a shoe has to start with story.
"Some brands have reached out and there's no story, there's no history,” Roland notes. “I politely say, 'Maybe this isn't for us.' There are brands that told me I couldn’t include Detroit in the design. I said no. I hope we can work together in the future, but if I can’t do this with integrity, I won’t do it. I have to look people in
the eye. I don’t ever want to not be able to do that because of a dollar."
His proudest collab? The 2022 Jordan 2. Not just for the design. For the impact.
"I negotiated that they give 250 pairs to kids in my old school. I wanted them to know I came from the same circumstances. I figured it out; you can too. There were kids like, 'I feel like I can run faster now.' That’s the same thing I thought when I saw Michael Jordan."
So where does Roland get his creative inspiration?
"I realize at my age that I’m not technically cool anymore," Roland admits with a smile.
"But I listen to the people at the store. My employees. My customers. Everything is built on relationship.”
He tells me about one of those relationships, with an older man named Gibson, who hung around the shop beating everyone at ping pong. "He never really bought shoes,” Roland recalls, “but he’d talk sports, bring his daughter by. He was a great guy. When he passed during COVID, we were all just down for days. That’s the kind of place this is."
Ro Spit hasn’t disappeared. Roland still DJs and acts. He’s filmed nearly a dozen movies in Detroit’s indie scene.
"There’s art in everything," he says. "Rap had a time limit for me. Acting fills that part of me now. I’m getting better. It’s fulfilling. And I’ll keep creating. We’re only at halftime."
Step into the world of Burn Rubber at 512 N. Main Street in Royal Oak, or online at burnrubber sneakers.com
Amy turned a magazine into community.
City Lifestyle isn’t just a publication — it’s a pulse. A rhythm of voices, neighbors, and stories woven together by someone who believes in the power of connection. As we expand, we’re looking for people ready to turn care into community. Are you ready to be that spark?
Royal Oak City Lifestyle
Published by Amy
Loved by Royal Oak
DOUBLE VISION
Two women. One dream. The city’s chicest frames.
ARTICLE BY MARSHALL ZWEIG
PHOTOGRAPHY BY AMY GILLESPIE
Before there was a boutique, before there was a red carpet, before Detroit knew the name De'Twah…two women were having the same dream.
Candice was recovering from COVID when the vision struck: an upscale eyewear boutique. “I literally woke up in the middle of the night, scribbled down ‘De'Twah, and then I just filed the paperwork, like in the middle of the night,” Candice remembers. “And didn’t tell anybody.”
She set about making her dream a reality.
“I was working three jobs, my grandmother had cancer, and I was meeting with investors to get my own boutique off the ground,” Candice remembers.
At the same time, her longtime manager Rachel Irimescu had a vision of her own: an upscale eyewear boutique. Rachel quietly reached out to Candice, asking if she’d come help launch a new venture…and Candice laughed. “Funny you should say that,” she replied. “I have a business plan in my car.”
That mutual spark—equal parts timing and divine alignment— turned into De'Twah Luxury Eyewear, a boutique where eyewear becomes art.
What sets De'Twah apart isn’t just their authorized Cartier status (they’re the first non-doctor black-and-white female team to earn it), or their custom work (real diamond insets, hand-faceted bevels, color-shifting tints). It’s that Rachel and Candice style every frame like a piece of art.
“You don't just walk in here and pick up a frame. You sit with us, and we decide together who you are,” Candice says. “We read your face, your lifestyle, your vibe. And we create something that makes you feel like you.”
She calls it “jewelry for your face.” And the moment you walk into the Oak Park boutique—all velvet drapes and red carpet glamour—you believe her.
They tried Royal Oak for three years. “But everyone just kept going back to Oak Park,” Rachel says. “Greenfield Plaza is where the culture lives. It’s where we belong.”
CONTINUED >
“WE READ YOUR FACE, YOUR LIFESTYLE, YOUR VIBE. AND WE CREATE SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU.”
They’ve styled celebrities like singer/ songwriter Trey Songz (who said “De'Twah, baby!” on video while wearing their custom lenses) and rapper Big Sean. But it’s the clients who thought they'd never wear luxury glasses who matter just as much.
“I had a woman with a -10 prescription who cried when she picked up her Cartier rims,” Candice says. “She'd been told her whole life she couldn’t have beautiful eyewear. But we made it happen.”
“I’ve had clients cry too—not just because of how they look, but how they feel when they’re finally seen,” Rachel adds.
In between fittings and fashion shows, Rachel and Candice are building a mentorship program for Detroit girls. Two preteens spend Fridays learning everything from how to answer the phone to how to polish lenses. “Before high school,” Candice says, “you have to start shaping how they see themselves.”
Ask either woman what makes the business work, and they'll point to each other. Candice has the vision and the flair. Rachel has the precision and the calm. Together, they pray over every big decision.
“We’re not just in business. We’re in prayer,” Candice says. “Everything we do starts with that.”
“People think we came out of nowhere,” Rachel says. “But we put in the time. We've worked decades in this field. We earned this.”
Candice puts it another way: “I call Rachel the Quiet Storm. You don't see her coming, but she gets everything done.”
And through all the sparkle, both women say the real gift is watching clients transform.
“When someone puts on the right pair of glasses and suddenly sees themselves differently,” Candice says, “that’s what we’re here for. That’s the real luxury.”
Or as she sums it up: “Luxury is when your glasses feel like part of your soul.”
Rachel smiles and adds, “People assume I’m the assistant. That Candice owns the place. And that’s fine with me—I like to be behind the scenes.”
In the end, De'Twah isn’t just the result of one woman’s dream. It’s what happens when two people see the same future, and walk into it—side by side.
To experience De'Twah for yourself, visit detwahluxuryeyewear.com or stop by their Oak Park boutique inside Greenfield Plaza
