One designer who’s proven himself a past master in subverting the hallmarks of British menswear is Steven Stokey-Daley, founder of SS Daley, who made his name as a designer by exploring “the theatricality of British elitism”. A 26-year-old from Liverpool, he designs garments that playfully reinvent conservative styles associated with the English upper classes. Boating blazers, schoolboy suits and high-waisted, Oxford-bag-like trousers are reborn in flamboyant, feminine shapes with floral patterns and light-hearted collegiate stripes. “I’m interested in questioning what masculinity is,” Stokey-Daley says. - Financial Times

Treading the line between modernity and tradition is key to a brand’s longevity and British designers need to “get the balance right”, says designer Paul Smith. His is one of few globally recognised British labels to weather decades of change — it was founded in 1970 — whilst remaining privately owned. “When I started, there absolutely was quintessential British style, but British style these days is very hard to pinpoint,” he says. “Now, it’s British creativity, rather than style, that’s revered.” Does Smith consciously try to design clothes that feel British? “No,” he says. Instead, he sets out only to design “nice bits of kit” — neither too old-fashioned nor too high fashion. Financial Times

What is “the British look” for men? I suspect the images that come to mind for many revolve around pinstriped bankers or Brideshead Revisited types in boating blazers — or, at a push, brooding secret agents in dinner suits. These are characters that we have collectively romanticised for decades, but they’re not to be found in Britain now.

Today, a banker is more likely to arrive at work in a Patagonia gilet than pinstripes, and the vast majority of Brits prefer to wrap up against the elements in Gore-Tex, not tweed.

You’re far more likely to see a stylish Milanese or Neapolitan man in an Italian-made jacket, shirt and chinos than you are a Brit sporting something produced in the UK.

“The origins of classic British tailoring are still very much relevant,” says Simon Holloway, Dunhill’s recently appointed creative director. “The history of English dressing, our codes and an anglicised colour and texture palette are constantly referenced in fashion today. Italian and American style is built on the back of everything classic and British.”

Professor Christopher Breward, fashion historian and director of National Museums Scotland, agrees that Britain’s heritage of fine tailoring still has a place in the fashion landscape, as long as it’s interpreted in an egalitarian way. He cites the suit-clad gentleman stereotype as a “staple of literature and film”, but warns against the danger of oversimplifying menswear with nostalgia alone. “If nostalgia is used creatively, it’s a rich source of inspiration, but it can at times result in a caricature that cleaves to outdated social hierarchies,” he says.

“British fashion always expresses tensions,” Jules says, “between high and low, smart and casual, upper and working class or black and white. That’s what makes it interesting.”

The look of British menswear now (ft.com)

Smocks - agricultural labourer's clothes- are worn over the wearer's clothing, as can be seen in this photograph of a young farm labourer in Norfolk. They are usually made from cotton, mostly twill weave, also known as 'drabbet', or linen. 

Smocks are largely recognisable by their smocking and embroidery.

Standard hand smocking stitches are:

A. Cable stitch: a tight stitch of double rows that joins alternating columns of gathers.

B. Stem stitch: a tight stitch with minimum flexibility that joins two columns of gathers at a time in single overlapping rows with a downward slope.

C. Outline stitch: similar to the stem stitch but with an upward slope.

D. Cable flowerette: a set of gathers worked in three rows of stitches across four columns of gathers. Often organized in diagonally arranged sets of flowerettes for loose smocking

E. Wave stitch: a medium density pattern that alternately employs tight horizontal stitches and loose diagonal stitches.

F. Honeycomb stitch: a medium density variant on the cable stitch that double stitches each set of gathers and provides more spacing between them, with an intervening diagonal stitch concealed on the reverse side of the fabric.

G. Surface honeycomb stitch: a tight variant on the honeycomb stitch and the wave stitch with the diagonal stitch visible, but spanning only one gather instead of a gather and a space.

H. Trellis stitch: a medium density pattern that uses stem stitches and outline stitches to form diamond-shaped patterns.

I. Vandyke stitch: a tight variant on the surface honeycomb stitch that wraps diagonal stitches in the opposite direction.

J. Bullion stitch: a complex knotted stitch that joins several gathers in a single stitch. Organized similarly to cable flowerettes

The traditional rural craft of swilling, a type of oak basket making is native to Coniston in Cumbria. ‘Like the oval ring of hazel that forms the structure of an oak swill basket, this ancient craft has turned full circle and has returned to its beginnings – from cottage industry to full-scale commercial enterprise and back to cottage industry again. A now unfamiliar object, even to those well-versed in rural crafts, the oak swill basket is traditional to the broadleaved woodland native to Southern Lakeland and would have seen many uses over the centuries from the coast, the farm, the factory and the home.

Swills were used for coaling steam ships, in mines, mills, ironworks and many other industries. On farms they were used for broadcast sowing, harvesting root crops and for feeding animals. Their domestic uses included , laundry, log, garden and shopping baskets, even cradles. 

The swillmaking industry declined rapidly in the post war years which mirrored the rise in mechanization  and other technologies such as plastics.

Historically these durable oak and hazel vessels have been used to carry and store a multitude of cargos from cockles and charcoal to bobbins and even babies. Every town and village in Southern Lakeland would have had a ‘swill-shop’ with a team of craftsmen working hard to satisfy the huge demand for such a versatile object. Today, only one ‘swill-shop’ remains; manned single-handedly by Owen Jones, the last full-time oak swill basket maker, who like that oval ring of hazel has turned his own full circle, from childhood woodland beginnings to a career in aviation and back to his beloved woodlands once more.’ (Via merchantandmakers)

Harris Tweed has traditionally highlighted its production process as a journey from land, to loom, to cloth, from the rich Hebridean landscape which provides the lichen for natural dyeing, to the sheep which provide the wool, to the farmers and craftspeople that carry out the clothmaking process to create the final product.

During the 19th century when the Tweed industry was growing, it became an important part of the fashion industry. In Tweed, Anderson explains that before the 1870s, ‘tweeds were primarily worn for sport by elite men and this meant that they acquired strong connotations of land ownership, wealth and leisure’ (2018, pp. 62). This is significant because it meant the consumption of tweed seemed exclusive and became an integral part of elite style. 

During the 1990s when the industry struggled, many Harris Tweed weavers physically threw away and destroyed their looms forcing an end to the passing down of skills to younger generations. Many of the island craftspeople retrained in different industries or travelled to the mainland losing their titles as artisans. This was concerning because skill sharing conserves traditional practices. In recent years, the reduction in weavers and the aging of equipment and workforce has become a problem for the business. In Tweed, Anderson explains that by the end of the 20th century, ‘85 percent of the weavers were over fifty and there was no recruitment of younger weavers, largely because of a lack of local, public confidence in the industry’ (2018, pp. 160). 

The picturesque landscape decorated with stunning botanical design provided the perfect setting for Honiton lace makers. One of the main characteristics of Honiton lace is the sprig applique that is influenced by the Devon countryside. The history of the Honiton style dates back to the sixteenth century. (Historic UK)

Technological developments throughout the 1800s meant that by 1870 almost every type of handmade lace could be copied by machine, leading to the disappearance of the handmade lace industry in England by 1900.

Spradbery was a watercolourist, linocut printmaker, poster designer and teacher. Born in East Dulwich, London, he studied at Walthamstow Art School and became an art teacher. As a pacifist, he served in the Royal Army Medical Corps during WWI. He exhibited at the Royal Academy. He designed posters mainly for London Transport and the Underground Group, but also for LNER and British Railways (via British Museum)

Goldsworthy’s works are small but effective acts of rural regeneration; public art as a monument to agriculture. (Corridor 8)

The work involved rebuilding or restoring existing, derelict or former folds along the route of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge's walk around the Lake District. These pieces were made over an extended period covering the four seasons.

Andrew Cross’s haunting digital video ‘An English Field (Barn)’ (2007) depicts the rickety vestiges of a barn, a structure his own father built in 1968, Cross managed to capture it shortly before it finally came down. It’s a representation of the landscape, but one drenched with personal resonance and ephemerality; surely not lost on those who grew up in rural settings and moved to the city. It’s not hard to see the barn’s ghostly shell as a metaphor for the increasing contemporary challenges to rural life.

I like the idea of showing this contrast between the romanticising of rural life and the harsh realities of rural life being left behind for work in the city.

Burberry, the country’s most high-profile fashion brand, has been exploring what it means to be a modern British brand for decades. The challenge for Yorkshire native Daniel Lee, who joined as creative director in late 2022, is epitomised by his choice of a new logo — an old insignia lifted from the brand’s archives, depicting an armour-clad knight on horseback, rendered in vibrant cobalt blue. The knight’s banner carries the word “Prorsum” — Latin for “forwards”. The implication is that Lee’s Burberry is at once future-facing yet deeply traditional. This duality made itself known in Lee’s first two collections. Autumn/winter 2023 was unveiled at London Fashion Week in February last year, and it took the fashion industry by surprise. “We were all expecting a sea of beige and quiet luxury,” says Petersson, “and it was an explosion of a collection — Burberry goes to a rave in the English countryside.” Lee’s second collection, unveiled last September, was more mature. Burberry’s iconic trench coats were back in the spotlight with sensible proportions in sober colours, as was a focus on double-breasted tailoring. “There’s every kind of British personality represented in that collection, from the club kid to the tailored gentleman,” Petersson observes. “To me, it’s the perfect line-up of modern Britishness.” Financial Times

Mulberry has played a crucial role in shaping the British heritage of luxury fashion. The brand's substantial influence, rich history, and relentless commitment to quality have solidified its position as a cornerstone of Britain's fashion landscape.

I love the use of lace in this collection alongside classic checked suiting. It creates a modern take on traditional British craft, celebrating heritage design for a new consumer.

Silverstein’s ‘Re-roll’ technique applies the art of sewing together the scraps that overflow in the fashion industry. He uses this upcycling technique to create unique and imaginative patterns that can result in anything from patchworks to pop culture pastiches.

Savile Row, in the heart of London, has been at the centre of high-quality men’s tailoring for 200 years. It has supplied handmade suits, from the finest woven cloth, to film stars and royalty, to statesmen and sportsmen. It has a reputation for quality and excellence second to none. Now it is embracing recycling, and it seems, its top-end clients are happy to pay for it.

 

It’s incredibly rare to find a recycling loop like this one – especially in textiles – where the waste is turned into quality new material to be used by the same workshops that created it in the first place. This episode tells the story of how this is happening and follows the journey that turns tiny bits of fabric that would previously have been binned, into new bespoke garments, ones that come with great credentials and an interesting story behind them.

The English fête is a social institution which seems forever locked in some idyll of rural Englishness, unchanged since the 1920s.

The Village Fete | Frieze

Waste No More

From its origins, the Aran sweater has been intimately linked to clans and their identities. Aran sweaters were, and remain, a reflection of the lives of the knitters, and their families. On the Aran islands, sweater patterns were zealously guarded, kept within the same clan throughout generations. These Aran sweaters were often used to help identify bodies of fishermen washed up on the beach following an accident at sea.

Today, the demand for the Aran Sweater continues to grow. The lack of skilled knitters, and the economic gains to be had from machine-production of the sweaters, has resulted in a huge fall in the number of hand-knits available. Hand knit Aran Sweaters have become rare and valuable.

Many of the stitches have more significant meanings, relating to Irish rural life and celtic art.

Each stitch carries its own unique meaning, a historic legacy from the lives of the Island community many years ago. The Cable Stitch is a depiction of the fisherman's ropes, and represents a wish for a fruitful day at sea. The Diamond Stitch reflects the small fields of the islands. These diamonds are sometimes filled with Irish moss stitch, depicting the seaweed that was used to fertilise the barren fields and produce a good harvest. Hence the diamond stitch is a wish for success and wealth. The Zig Zag Stitch, a half diamond, is often used in the Aran Sweaters, and popularly represents the twisting cliff paths on the islands. The Tree of Life is one of the original stitches, and is unique to the earliest examples of the Aran knitwear. It again reflects the importance of the clan, and is an expression of a desire for clan unity, with long-lived parents and strong children. via aran.com

I think this idea of each stich having a meaning could be something interesting to play with within my project in order to carry a narrative through my weaving in a more subtle way.

“The primary focus of this collection are the many hands that touch our clothing throughout the making process, through the integration of artisanal and hand-crafted elements, in the form of weaving, knitting, printing, patchworking and embroidery. The life of each garment delicately passes through the hands of our intricate supply chain, and for that we feel immense gratitude to our makers, our tools and our team that surrounds us.” – Bethany Williams 

Leahy draws upon the remains of cultural phenomena that have been displaced, or have lost their significance in our “progress-driven”, globalised society. Residues on the landscape of our industrial past and by extension, the impact this intervention has had on our environment also provide material for investigating the repercussions of a society driven by progress.

Wood artist, Mark Reddy investigates the humble form of the spoon with a simplicity of purpose. Carved from living wood, bound to the land we walk, Reddy‘s spoons possess a meditative memory of forgotten values and desires. He sees symbolism in the familiar utensil that has occupied a place in our everyday lives throughout our history and cultures. Creating sacred objects which explore the liminal divide between the functional and sculptural, with subtle details and embellishments that embody timeless and universal themes. Deeply informed by the seasons, place, and landscape, Reddy works with wood cut and foraged locally, utilising the innate character and natural energy inherent in his material. 

 ‘Folk Art’ – sometimes known as ‘naïve art’ – refers to art made by highly skilled people who wished to express their creative urges but had no formal artistic training. Growing out of the long-established craft traditions in local communities, folk art can encompass objects made for a specific purpose – such as shop signs, agricultural implements and weathervanes – and decorative works created primarily to satisfy the maker – such as street scenes, collage pictures and even moving automata.