“The fashion gods have been good to us”: Steven Bethell, founder of Beyond Retro

"There's nothing wrong with a men's brooch," says Steven Bethell, the co-founder of vintage clothing empire Beyond Retro, pointing to the accessory of the 19th century attached to his breast pocket. It is shaped like a beetle with golden legs protruding from its gem-encrusted body, a big trend in Victorian Britain. "I feel incomplete if I don't wear a brooch," he says when we meet at a cafe near the brand new Beyond Retro at Coal Drops Yard in King's Cross, central London.

With 15 stores in London, Brighton, Bristol and Sweden, plus the first Finnish branch opening this month, Beyond Retro was flying the flag of second-hand long before sustainability became a buzzword. Yet 20 years after Bethell and his wife, Helene Carter-Bethell, opened the first store on Cheshire Street, just off Brick Lane in Shoreditch, east London, it remains the model for second-hand clothes affordable and beautifully selected. Bethell says the average price of, say, a sixties faux fur coat or shift dress is still around £20. through piles of high-waisted jeans, peep-toe shoes, cat-eye sunglasses and endless tea dresses in the hope of picking up some second-hand jewelry on a Saturday work budget. I still have an oversized green wool cardigan and a high waisted red suede miniskirt purchased at that time, both still wearable thanks to the enduring quality of so much vintage stock.

There had other vintage stores – Rokit, Absolute Vintage, etc. — but Beyond Retro's canary-yellow (recycled) plastic bags branded with its tattoo-inspired anchor logo — now swapped for brown paper versions, of course — had a certain cachet. Indie idols of my generation, such as Carl Barât and Alexa Chung, were said to shop there, and bands played live in the store. From trilby hats and Peter Pan collars to Breton tops, sheer scarves and faux fur coats, 2000s Shoreditch was to my generation what King's Road, Chelsea, was to the 60s.

"There was no grand plan to create a Beyond Retro aesthetic," says Bethell, 53. "It was just a celebration of the things we loved." Part of the appeal of vintage pieces is that no two items are the same. "We're not all Steve Jobs and only wear black turtlenecks," he says.

Luckily, this 2000s aesthetic has seen a revival to Gen Z's fascination with so-called "indie sleaze" – Vogue describes it as "a messy amalgamation of 90s grunge and 80s opulence". There are Instagram and TikTok accounts dedicated to documenting the store's raggedy band t-shirts, skinny...