Joe Pera says “fashion” quietly. He says everything quietly, in a wavering, gentle voice. But he says “fashion” quieter still. The 31-year-old comedian isn’t sure he wants to talk about clothes. It seems slightly ridiculous to him. In his Adult Swim show, Joe Pera Talks With You, which aired its second season in December and January, he plays a version of himself as a choir teacher in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. In each episode, Pera tells the audience, slowly and softly, about something he’s interested in, as he walks through his small town life. His monologues are vaguely instructional, moderately hypnotic, and utterly soothing. He’s interested in iron ore, grocery store methodology, the best way to pack a lunch, lighthouses, bean arches, and fireworks. But he’s not very interested in fashion.

His clothes are simple and practical, the uniform of an old man: khakis and corduroys, collared shirts and comfortable sweaters, brown shoes and beat-up Asics. There’s a deeper history to his wardrobe than is immediately apparent. Joe Pera Shows You How To Do Good Fashion, the best episode of the new season, grants a hint. “Fashion comes from everywhere,” his character tells us. “It especially comes from the people, places, and buildings we like best.” A light show, dancing on Milwaukee’s Miller Park Domes, reflects off his glasses. "My nana and her quiet home were that to me,” he says, “a place of undeniable good in the world."

Growing up in Buffalo, New York, he tells me over the phone in February, he’d bike to his grandparents’ homes a couple times a week. He’d mow the lawn, shovel the driveway, or just drop by for lunch. “You go to their house and time is a little slower and everything feels a little warmer,” he says. “Despite other things going on in both of your lives, it's a refuge for everyone. You feel a quiet happiness just to share some companionship with someone who sees the best of you and you of them.” His grandmother appeared in a standalone Christmas special, but passed away before filming on the first season began. “I hope that some of the best episodes of the series have the feel of sitting at their kitchen table eating cookies,” he says, “or poking around their basement together, looking at a box of hats they purchased at an estate sale.”

When we start talking about the clothes our grandparents left us, his hesitancy drops, and we find we have trouble stopping. He keeps apologizing for having more to say; I keep assuring him that I’m more than happy to listen. His show is the most comforting thing broadcast in our troubled era. It might also be the most beautiful. Talking about how our grandparents shape how we dress and who we are feels like a way to get at some of that beauty.

GQ: Did your grandparents leave you any special hand-me-downs?

Joe Pera: The one set were hoarders. They saved everything. They had some things they wanted to hold on to, but basically if we found something interesting in the basement, we could ask them and they’d let us take it. So my brother and I wore a lot of our grandfather’s sweaters and shirts. I think I might have even worn some of them in the show.

Are you wearing your own clothes, for the most part, in the show?

It’s a weird blend. I ended up bringing a lot of clothes that I wear in real life into the show. We’ll find others, but it’s a lot of my own. And then, after season one, I liked the new clothes that we got for the show so much, from secondhand stores and Lands’ End, that I asked if I could take them home with me. So my wardrobe became part of the show wardrobe and then part of the show wardrobe became part of my wardrobe. I feel a little bad, but I think Adult Swim won’t miss a fifty dollar Lands' End jacket.