PATTERNS EMERGE

When you start to look at things long enough patterns start to emerge. This week it’s chevrons. They seem to be everywhere…
*Detail of the under collar of a British Army khaki tunic.

THE URSULA SUIT

Around this time last year we had the good fortune to purchase a jacket that we had been hunting/discussing/obsessing about for sometime. The Holy Grail of wax cotton jackets known as an Ursula Suit or Admiralty Suit. One year on from our initial posting regarding the suit, the story still excites and fascinates us, and it is still the unquestionable favourite in our collection.

TORN FROM MY COAT I SEND TO THEE…

During the Boer War, British soldiers would send home keepsakes to loved ones. Made with fabric torn from their tunics, the soldiers hand decorated the patches with personalized messages of love to those waiting back home.
“Torn from my coat I send to thee this war worn piece of old khaki”

WAXED JACKETS

I have a real weakness for old wax jackets, June and July have been hard as the heat has meant I can’t rock my favourite old Barbour the default setting on my wardrobe. Despite it definitely not being wax jacket weather it hasn’t stopped us hunting down some beautiful pieces. While most of the old wax bike jackets we find end up the other side of the Atlantic cruising around Nolita or Lower East Side or wherever our friends in New York sell them, we still like to keep a good collection in the Showroom and Earlham Street store for discerning customers.

This was my favourite of recent finds, not many things breakdown to such an amazing patina as these old wax jackets. A great looking late 60’s Belstaff, Sammy Miller label with an unusual blue tartan lining shown above.

KEEP THEM FLYING!

A little worse for wear this morning and with no appointments, I just could not face the mountain of paperwork that I should have been tackling. So instead I decided to trash the showroom. Every few months a red mist seems to come over me and when I come to I find myself surrounded by heaps of clothes that I have piled on the floor. I then get the fear that I will never be able to get things back together again.