A company is only as good as its people, and the ones we have are rather exceptional, thank you very much. Consider this an introduction.

From time to time, however, you might meet someone working here who, for one reason or another, didn’t get a picture and a write-up in the website. It’s okay. They’re not imposters. Please treat them with respect. It’s not their fault they lack representation in the online world.


Earl is the boss, not that you’d know that at first glance. Anyone that easygoing and well adjusted couldn’t possibly be the owner slash manager of a multi-megadollar, high-end men’s fashion store — could they?

Nevertheless, it’s true, and for your own safety, be advised: do not allow yourself to be taken in by his unassuming nature.


For Jen, it’s always been clothes. That’s her chief obsession. In high school, her friends took her along whenever they went shopping because she was scrupulously honest and knew her stuff. They trusted her to make wise decisions on their behalf and it paid off. Her circle was always better dressed than the rest.

Now, finally, via a vast, interlocking maze of cause and effect she’s ended up at Eddie’s. Some day, you should ask her to tell you the story. It’s a doozy.


Frank turned sixteen and got himself a part-time job at Valentino’s, dispensing pirate shirts and bell-bottoms to the mods of St. John’s. That turned into a full-time gig, which lasted exactly until he was old enough to enlist with the Canadian Armed Forces and split town, never to return.

He was posted to Regina where he drilled day in and day out, preparing for Soviet invasion. After his discharge, him and his haircut headed west, where he found work at the S. S. Kresge Company, managing one of their Vancouver stores. Head Office liked him so much they transferred him to Lloydminster, which led to other stores and Edmonton, and, finally, years later, to Eddie’s.

Every winter, however, Frank migrates south. While we’re freezing in the dark, he’s drinking piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.


According to Ken, the best part of working here is the social aspect. That’s where he gets to shoot the breeze, exchanging ideas in a free and open manner, while providing an invaluable service to another human being.

At the same time, for him, the job is also a complex, multifaceted puzzle to be solved — an intellectual exercise in menswear, where personal style intersects with role-playing, societal expectations, dressing for success, protective coloration and the modern-day emblems of rank.

Ten-plus years he’s been in the business. He really knows his stuff.


OCTOBER 16, 1932 – NOVEMBER 26, 2014

It’s with great sadness that we announce Eddie’s passing. He wasn’t just our eponymous founder — that’s the least of it — he was also a gracious, loving and generous man, with a terrific sense of humor, who always had time for other people’s problems. Family, friends, colleagues, customers and acquaintances — everyone misses him.

The next time you find yourself noshing on a homemade cookie, think of Eddie.