Don’t we all just love an underdog? The outlier, the risk taker, the one committed to graft and sacrifice in pursuit of a stellar personal dream. It’s inspiring for us, it gives us hope, makes us dream and maybe, just maybe, feeds our passion to follow suit. It’s the archetypal hero’s journey that inspires but takes so much work. That rare soul possessing impenetrable self belief, unintimidated by the behemoths, the David.
Jerome Mage, founder and creative director of Jacques Marie Mage is such a man. Like a once-in-a-generation athlete, since it’s inception in 2015, Jerome’s brand, JMM has sped up the ranks of the eyewear industry, taking no prisoners on a turbo-charged trajectory, becoming the favorite of celebs A to Z, the spectacle goal that fuels aspiration. A focus on quality over quantity, longevity over crass mass.
If you aren’t savvy to them yet, no worries, JMM frames are thick, dark, sturdy, heavy — yup, it’s okay, you can say it, they are fat — that’s a large part of what makes them so beautiful.
“It creates a certain physicality when you touch the frame, you connect with the luxury of it,” Jerome says of his iconic frames. They are part fantasy but all functional. When you put on a pair, each style made in limited editions, you elevate your day — it’s like driving a vintage Porsche or rocking a moon landing Omega watch. And you pay for the privilege, which is also part of the experience.
Mage says, “Rather than spend money on something of poor standards multiple times, isn’t it better to buy something of quality one time, something that is made with such nobility. Something that you can repolish and make brand new in thirty years?”
Mage was born into an affluent middle class family in the middle of France, the son of a doctor father and school director mother. His love affair with glasses started at the age of 10, when his older brother came home wearing a pair of Vuarnets, which were, back then, the coolest glasses on Earth. He fled to Paris when he was 15, studied art, and then attended design school.
As a member in good standing of Generation X, he was inspired by all things surf, skate, snowboard, and motocross, so he headed west, to California. He moved to San Diego in 1990 to work for SPY optics, at the time, a leader in the field. He then built and ran his own company, designing thousands of products, which included a 15-years account with Burton Snowboards. That’s when he realized his professional passion was eyewear.
“In 2010, I started finding a lot of the companies we were in contact with were very cynical,” he recalls. “Always money, money, more money. Design wise, I felt we had entered an era where no one really wanted that much creativity. I became very disillusioned with what those companies were asking for and really bored. It was completely uninteresting. And I thought, I’m either an idiot or a genius, so now it’s about me finding out if people want something else. So I took a gamble and started my own project.”
JMM launched in 2015, based in Los Angeles. Each frame is cut from a block of acetate (imagine a sculptor carving into a block of marble), then tumbled in a large barrel with bamboo chips. Every subsequent step is by hand, from injecting the wirecores to the mounting and polishing.
He says, “The point of departure was very simple: How great of a product can we make? We want only the best materials, the best packaging, the best stories. This filters through the company, the product, the development, the design, the belief, the way you work with your atelier in Japan. You have a very different experience when you wear our glasses, because you can sense that passion for craftsmanship, and that obsession for beautiful lines.
“I think about the Japanese workers who polish our frames and I’m like, ‘Wow!’ It takes seven to ten years of repetitive work to become that skilled. You learn little by little and you get better and you come to a factory and every day you polish frames — what can be exciting about that? It sounds very monotonous, but the Japanese push it so far, they dedicate themselves so much to their craft, so when you see the result, it’s art, it becomes meditative. It’s almost the hand of God, in front of you. The hand of creation. It’s a completely different way of looking at life that requires a lot of discipline and extreme dedication.”
And Mage is a shining example of sticking to your vision and principles in the face of resistance — and using the power of storytelling to build a brand. “When I started, people didn’t like the name of the company, people didn’t think there was a need for bold, sculptural, incredibly made glasses at a high price point,” he recalls.
“I got zero money in terms of investment, so my marketing was very simple — I asked a couple of my photographer friends for some help. We tend to collaborate with personalities. I think people connect sunglasses with personalities, right? If I say Jack Nicholson or John Lennon, you have an idea of the glasses they were wearing. Instead of collaborating with brands, I’ve always thought it was better collaborating with iconic personalities. Dennis Hopper was so much more than just an actor. Hunter S Thompson was more than a writer. One of the things we’ve thrived on since the beginning is making people curious again. There’s such a lack of curiosity because everything is so flat. We tell stories with these frames and my hope is that we can inspire others to be curious.”
“Since the beginning we made our glasses in limited editions, because for me they’re truly collectible objects. They’re heirlooms, they’re things to pass on, things to appreciate. In a way you’re just a temporary vehicle for those glasses, after which they’ll be passed down for someone else to discover and wear.”
Learn more about Jacques Marie Mage
This article originally appeared in The Spectacle Book
Obsessed with their sunglasses. The packaging alone is a work of art. I have 5 pairs and will continue to add to my collection. Please don’t ever sell out to a Luxottica or Safilo group. I’ve seen so many brands i.e. Dita loose all cool points when this happened.