Harris Tweed is the only fabric that's legally protected. Just as Bordeaux wine has to be from the Bordeaux region of France, any fabric bearing this stamp has to be woven in the Outer Hebrides, finished in the Outer Hebrides, and made from wool dyed & spun in the Outer Hebrides.
The Outer Hebrides is Scotland's Wild West. In his 1973 book, WH Murray wrote that the region's most important climatic feature are the gale force winds. If you ask an islander for tomorrow's forecast, he won't say dry, wet, or sunny, but quote a figure from the Beaufort Scale.
For that reason, the local blackface sheep have a thicker, coarser, stronger fleece. They used to be the only wool source for Harris Tweed, although nowadays, the fabric can be woven from wool sourced from Cheviots. They have a softer fleece.
The production of Harris Tweed used to be done by crofters (such as tenant farmers), who used the material for living and trading. It was not uncommon for someone to pay rent with blankets or lengths of clò-mòr. Which is to say there were hundreds or thousands of producers.
Today, this production is consolidated into three mills. They do the work of grading and sorting the fleece, washing it, dyeing and carding the fibers, and then spinning them into yarn. This material is then arranged in the form of beams or bobbins. From National Geographic:
In the video above, you can see how the wool is dyed into brilliant colors. This material is then mixed together. When spun into yarn and woven into cloth, you get this interesting depth that's not just flat brown or yellow, but a color that reflects the richly colored landscape.
The main thing to know about Harris Tweed is that it's the most widely used hand-loomed fabric for men's tailoring. By hand-loomed, I mean the mills send bobbins or beams to independent weavers who work with just their hands and feet (no automation or electricity).
This weaving typically takes place in a shed located steps from the weaver's home. In the olden days, weavers used Hattersley single-width looms. Today, some operate Bonas-Griffith double-width looms to produce softer, lighter fabrics (ones made from that Cheviot woo)l.
In the past, men primarily did the weaving, while women did the waulking (the soaking of tweed in urine, then stretching and thumping it to shrink and soften it; material would later be hand washed). Women sang songs in chorus to lighten the work and keep rhythm.
Today, that finishing process is done industrially and without urine, although the weaving is done in the same was it has for generations: by foot and hand on an old loom stored in a drafty shed. From an old Esquire series:
The thing about Harris Tweed is that it's ... rough. It's pricklier than other types of tweeds partly because it's typically made from that locally sourced blackface sheep wool (stronger, coarser wool). IMO, it's best for outerwear such as sport coats and overcoats.
If you get trousers, you will need to get them fully lined. Or you need to have your own fleece, which is to say hairy legs.
If you want something lighter, softer, and more comfortable, you can try Breanish tweed.
Breanish doesn't qualify as Harris Tweed bc it's not purely made from locally sourced wool, but it's still handloomed on the island using an old single-width loom that was purchased with a bottle of whisky. Since they use a mix of materials, like cashmere, the cloth is softer.
So that's what happens on that island. If you're buying custom clothes, then Harris Tweed can be sourced from Harrisons Fine Worsted. If you're buying ready-to-wear, many clothiers will stock Harris Tweed sport coat: Drake's, Ben Silver, J. Press, Ralph Lauren, among the many.
Harris Tweed is certainly not the only type of tweed. The garments below are made in other regions and from other types of wool. But it's the only one that's legally protected. If you see something with the Harris Tweed logo (the orb), you now know the backstory.
Forgot to add: if you want something relatively affordable, lots of Etsy sellers make notebooks, eyewear sleeves, and pen cases from Harris Tweed.
And while not made from Harris Tweed or even tweed at all, I also like Waverley Scotland notebooks, which have nice tartan covers.
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The first and most obvious is that taste is a social construct shaped by forces such as cultural and financial capital. As Pierre Bourdieu pointed out in his book Distinction, our notions of "Good Taste" is often nothing more than the preferences and habits of the ruling class.
In this sense, judgements of taste tend to be path dependent. Dress shirts are considered to be in "good taste" when they're white or light blue for no other reason than the fact that's what elites wore. Black dress shirts are associated with the lower, sometimes criminal classes
Like a lot of stuff in classic men's dress, the rule of "no white after Labor Day" is rooted in class dynamics during the early 20th century. Many questions can be answered by "what is the aesthetic?" and "who set the rules?" 🧵
During the early 20th century, men's dress was governed by TPO (time, place, and occasion). In England, where we get many of our rules, men did business in London while wearing navy suits and black oxfords. But when in the country, they wore brown tweeds and grained derbies.
This is where we get the rule "no brown in town." The idea was that you were not supposed to wear brown tweeds and brown grained derbies while doing business in London (a rule that held pretty firmly until relatively recently, at least for sectors like finance).
When people think of menswear crafted with a high-degree of workmanship, they think of places such as France, Italy, and the UK. Some may think of Japan. But few will think of India, even though some of the most incredible workmanship is happening there now. Let me show you. 🧵
This thread starts with a premise: quality workmanship speaks for itself regardless of where it's done. Often, people's view of "quality" is colored by where a garment was made. Robert Schooler showed this in a 1965 paper published in Journal of Marketing Research.
As you read this thread, I want you to keep in mind the stories you may have read about European craftsmanship. These stories inspire awe because they're about skilled labor and dedication to one's trade. We should be in no less awe when the same craft happens in India.
The first person who comes to mind is Yashwant Rao Holkar II (full name Maharajadhiraj Raj Rajeshwar Sawai Shri Sir Yeshwant Rao II Holkar XIV Bahadur), who was the Maharaja of Indore. He occasionally wore beautiful garb that I can only assume is traditional to Indian culture.
Unfortunately, I don't know much about non-Western forms of dress, so I can only speak to the Western forms of attire that he wore. Here he is in white tie. Everything here is impeccably tailored—collar hugs neck, no divots, perfect peak lapel and gorge.
I understand the sentiment, but respectfully disagree. I don't think dress codes do much to improve aesthetics, largely because they don't change what has caused a decline in aesthetics. It is not about lack of personal pride but rather shifts in our commercial system. 🧵
First, I should say at the outset that I don't think dress reflects someone's deeper, more important qualities. Coaches will not coach better if they wear a suit. So for me, this is fundamentally just about aesthetics.
Let's review some coach outfits through the years.
Apologies if I get some of these wrong—I'm not an expert on basketball history. I pulled these photos from searching "basketball coach [decade]." So I'm counting that these are mostly correct.
Have you ever felt a film scene was particularly memorable or beautiful? To be sure, much of this is about cinematography and acting, but I want to show how outfits also contribute to this impression. Hopefully, this thread will give you some ideas on how to dress better. 🧵
Fit and silhouette are the two most important qualities of any outfit. Even when Vittorio De Sica portrayed this poor family searching for a stolen bike in post-war Italy, the dad looked great bc the coat broadened his shoulders and flowed over his hips. The son also wore layers.
We see this same effect in The Linguini Incident (1991). In this scene, there is barely any color aside from the cotton candy. Yet, all the outfits are beautiful bc they turn the ppl into shapes. The hats, scarves, and outerwear give the people distinctive silhouettes.