The Journeyman Union shop in Parr Street, Ashley Cross, is quiet when I arrive. But there’s no mistaking it’s the right place; with its A-board, artful bench and a rug laid out invitingly on the drive.

Going in I vaguely expect to see some sofas and the TV on, maybe a coffee table and a cat. But of course I don’t because the room is divided from the rest of the property by a new wall and a fire door. And with its bare brick, stripped boards, industrial fittings and carefully-chosen men’s fashions it gives off a distinctly Hoxton vibe.

Jacob, 21, a former tailoring student who was forced to quit college because he couldn’t afford the travel fees to London from Oxford where he was based, is still getting his head round the national reaction to what he and his mum considered was a practical solution to his shopkeeing idea.

Was he prepared for all this publicity?

“No! I didn’t expect the mass coverage it gave me,” he says.

“I’m quite a shy and quiet person so to have that much publicity was a bit scary.”

“It did great for the business. More than 30 people joined on Facebook and I did some online blogs about it.”

He had been advised to stick to online clothes selling and he does do this through his website but: “I like having products on display that people can feel and talk about and try on,” he says.

“The money was the main factor but it was more about meeting people and I have, not just the customers but furniture people, graphic designers. The shop’s become a space for people to come and meet and chat about things.”

You can see why they like it.

He and his mother, Nicky, once ran a vintage shop and gallery nearby and decided to re-create that look; bare brick, graphic art and old floorboards.

They got a builder to build some display units from wood he found in his back garden and; “Pretty much all the furniture came from Treasure Island down the road.”

He sourced old PE benches with shelves and hooks from eBay and an old workman’s bench for a desk.

Jacob filled the shop with brands including Edwin jeans, Meridien Guernsey Ts, Eastie Empire shirts and specialist publications, including Inventory.

Listening to him explain all this it’s right to ask how, at 21, he knew about it all; how he knew it would work and how he manages in a world which tends to regard people of his age as irresponsible kids.

“I did a few years retail work but it doesn’t run in the family, I think my interest comes from a passion for the products,” he says.

He knew it could work because, he says: “The area around here has got that feeling, it’s like a little bit of Notting Hill, it was just asking for a shop like this to start up.”

What about banks, his suppliers? How do they deal with such a young businessman?

“I don’t tend to tell people my age,” he reveals.

“I’ve only just told two of my suppliers and they were quite shocked. There’s still this idea of uni students being irresponsible or out of work, it’s hard to get across that you know enough or are confident enough.”

“Opening this up in the height of the recession wasn’t brilliant but you’ve got to get money pumping round the economy somehow. A guy comes in and buys something, he gets what he wants, it funds me, it funds the brands I’ve bought and the smaller things here, it funds the publications, furniture, all these little things are offshoots of this business.”

It’s the object lesson in how to save the economy and I wonder why Vince Cable and George Osborne can’t be sitting here, listening to all this. And if they bought Jacob’s clothes, they’d be better dressed, too.

 journeyman-union.co.uk