Brooks was my first Ivy interest, via reading Patricia Bosworth's biography of Monty Clift at an impressionable age (oh, all right, eighteen:  I was a late developer).  Everyone knew The Clash song and passed the book around.  My Dad bought shirts back on his first trip to New York, late '78, and I was more than chuffed.  As the years rolled by, however, so the quality deteriorated, with the collars not just wearing nicely but seemingly splitting and bursting till they had to be thrown out. 
Get old stock, though - from the 60s - it's beautiful.  I have at least two overcoats: one a thick wool number in light tan: obviously styled for a gentleman of quality.  The other, wool again but with a velvet collar: black and white houndstooth.  They'll outlive me.  But Brooks now - as Richmond Hill says - 'Ivy lite'.  Or just non-Ivy.