Photographed by Sheryl Nields; Styled by Kimmy Erin Kertes

Brandon and Jenny Chau have been back on home soil for less than 24 hours when we meet for scrambled eggs and strong coffee.  They’re reminiscing about their summer holiday in Hollywood, where their two young sons, Alastair and Winston, revelled in the joys of blockbuster-themed amusement parks and life-sized Disney characters.

It’s not just the boys who relished a week in the showbiz capital, however. Brandon has always loved the movies; action, sci-fi, disaster flicks—you name it, he’s seen it. His Hong Kong home is plastered with vintage posters of Star Wars, Bruce Lee and James Bond films, much to the delight of his sons—and the despair of his magnanimous wife. “I have no say in this,” says Jenny, adding that Brandon also collects suits and antique swords. “Our two boys are so influenced by everything Brandon does that the house is becoming dominated by all kinds of male paraphernalia.”

Brandon inherited his love of cinema from his late father, Kai-bong—the king of the 1960s cocktail set, a silver-tongued solicitor known more for his gilded loo, Gatsby-style parties and flamboyant pink ensembles than his flair for the law. “My dad was really into horror films, like horror horror,” says Brandon in his clipped British accent. “He’d say, ‘Let’s go see a movie together,’ and it would always be something blood-curdling and terrifying. It was so funny.” As a child, Brandon had nightmares that his dark, draughty family home was haunted—perhaps a side effect of these frightful flicks.

Kai-bong’s penchant for cinema went beyond scaring himself witless. “My father always wanted to be a film director,” says Brandon. “That was his dream, to go to Hollywood. I think that’s why he loved theatrical clothes—costumes, really—but my grandfather was a politician, so that was off the cards.” Jenny elaborates: “I think Brandon’s grandfather really banned him from doing anything that could be considered wild. That generation was very old-fashioned. You had to be a lawyer or a doctor. At the time, the job of a filmmaker was considered not so proper.”

Photographed by Sheryl Nields; Styled by Kimmy Erin Kertes

Brandon has an illustrious pedigree. His family’s roots in Hong Kong stretch back to the 1860s, when his great-grandfather, Chau Cheuk-fan, migrated from Dongguan in Guangdong Province. Cheuk-fan’s third son, Chau Sik-nin (Brandon’s grandfather), studied medicine in London and Vienna, becoming a revered ear, nose and throat specialist. He established his Hong Kong practice in 1927. Recognising his community leadership potential, the British government appointed Sik-nin to the Legislative Council after the Second World War and later to the Executive Council. He became one of the Chinese community’s most influential spokesmen within the colonial administration.

Sik-nin’s son Kai-bong forged a very different path. The Cambridge-educated lawyer founded his own firm, KB Chau & Co, but retired at 50. From that point, he and his wife, Brenda, a former barrister, ruled the city’s social scene, titillating the media with their conspicuously playful behaviour and their irrepressible joie de vivre. Their costume parties, held in the gold ballroom of their three-storey Pok Fu Lam home, Villa d’Oro, were legendary, as were the Rolls-Royces (Brenda’s a pink Silver Cloud and Kai-bong’s a gold Phantom VI) and their custom-made matching outfits.

Brandon, their only child, has inherited his parents’ sartorial swagger, although his personal style has none of the bells and whistles. “I was interested in clothes from a very early age, thanks to my father. He taught me about different styles of suits, how to tie a tie, that sort of thing,” says the 31-year-old. During his final year of boarding school at Worth Abbey in Sussex, Brandon took advantage of the no-uniform policy to experiment with various suits: double-breasted, pinstriped, navy, tweed. Becoming a barrister also gave him scope to expand his collection, which today is vast.

Photographed by Sheryl Nields; Styled by Kimmy Erin Kertes

Curating handcrafted clothing and accessories is no longer just a hobby for Brandon. He recently teamed up with pal Roger Chan to launch Attire House, a multi-pronged lifestyle brand that combines a menswear boutique, barbershop and bar. The retail arm is currently operating in pop-up form in the Central Building, and the bar opens within MO Bar at the Landmark Mandarin Oriental this month, also as a pop-up. Attire House will move to a permanent location in November this year.

Instead of selling major designer brands, the store stocks family-owned, made-to-measure labels from Europe, the UK and Japan. “Our emphasis is on quality and craftsmanship,” says Brandon, who notes the boutique carries lines by Neapolitan tailor Cesare Attolini, British shoe brand George Cleverley, Italian tie specialist E Marinella and Savile Row’s Anderson & Sheppard among others. Many of these artisans will come to the Hong Kong store to do trunk shows.

“When we first met we probably didn’t see ourselves as compatible, but sometimes opposites attract and I think we balance each other out.” — Jenny Chau

Jenny, a former investment banker with JP Morgan, loves fashion but has decided to take a back seat in the business to focus on the couple’s philanthropic interests. They’re enthusiastic supporters of the A-Life Academy, an organisation Brandon founded in 2011 that partners underprivileged schoolchildren with successful professionals. “It’s a mentoring programme whereby teenagers can seek career advice and encouragement from people in positions of influence across many different fields,” explains Jenny. “I think it’s a really great initiative because it gives Hong Kong’s business leaders an opportunity to have proper interactions with these kids. Direct contact is more important than just throwing money at the problem.”

Photographed by Sheryl Nields; Styled by Kimmy Erin Kertes

Jenny met Brandon 13 years ago at a friend’s birthday party in a now defunct bar on Queens Road Central. Coincidentally, they’re scheduled to attend a birthday brunch for that same friend today. “Isn’t that funny,” Jenny says to her husband. “That means we met 13 years ago almost to this day. We’ve moved from clubbing to brunching though—clearly we’re getting on a bit.”

It wasn’t love at first sight; they’re both too rational for that. Rather, they were friends first. “We’re very different and we were especially different back then,” says Jenny, who studied engineering at Cambridge University. “I’ve always been a science and maths person, and I love sport, whereas Brandon loves books and has always been more interested in the humanities. When we first met we probably didn’t see ourselves as compatible, but sometimes opposites attract and I think we balance each other out.”

That dynamic is certainly evident in their rapport. Jenny is an affable, pragmatic sort of person, while Brandon is reserved—surprising, perhaps, considering his parentage. “My father and I were very different,” he says gently, after some coaxing. “He loved me very much but we would often get into fights over really trivial things. In the past, I tried not to listen to him. I always did the opposite of what he told me to do but, actually, a lot of what he did and said in the early years has stuck with me. It’s quite incredible how much your parents influence you, and in ways you don’t even realise. My father was a very fair person. If he owed you a penny he would chase you a few blocks to return it to you. I think I take after him in that respect. I don’t like to owe anyone anything and I always try to be fair. I’m very by the book sometimes.”

Jenny wears a gown by Camilla and Marc; heels by Jimmy Choo; earrings by House of Harlow; sunglasses by House of Holland

Photographed by Sheryl Nields; Styled by Kimmy Erin Kertes

Kai-bong, who commissioned a portrait of his wife comprised of Japanese pearls, once compared his relationship with Brenda to that of Siamese twins—he couldn’t be without her. “I think my parents were very much in love,” Brandon reflects. “My father treated my mother like a princess. But they were very English in some ways, too. They had separate quarters in the house. They spent the days together but they slept separately. It worked for them.” Jenny admires how considerate they were. “They were always so polite and respectful towards each other. I think respect is really the key factor in successful, long-term relationships.”

Cups have been drained and plates scraped clean, so the time has come to call it a morning. Jenny and Brandon need to race off to Sevva to pick up a birthday cake for their friend, so we kiss goodbye (Brandon prefers a shake of the hand) and head off into the sultry summer heat.

Photographed by Sheryl Nields; Styled by Kimmy Erin Kertes

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This artcle was originally published in the September 2016 issue of Hong Kong Tatler