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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I've seen people here suggest Obama was a stylish president. I couldn't disagree more. Outfits like these read better in 2025, but during the slim-fit, Euro style craze of his presidency, Obama was routinely panned for his "frumpy dad style." See Vanity Fair.
His style transformation really came post-presidency. I suspect, but don't have proof, that this is partly the influence of his wife, who is quite stylish. Even his suits look better now. See clean shoulder line + shirt collar points reaching lapels + nice four-in-hand dimple.
Although it's rarely expressed in outright terms, people often use a very simple heuristic when solving fashion problems: they wish to look rich, which is often disguised as "respectable."
I will show you why this rarely leads to good outfits. 🧵
In 1902, German sociologist Georg Simmel neatly summed up fashion in an essay titled "On Fashion." Fashion, he asserted was simply a game of imitation in which people copy their "social betters." This causes the upper classes to move on, so as to distinguish themselves.
He was right. And his theory explains why Edward VIII, the Duke of Windsor, was the most influential menswear figure in the early 20th century. By virtue of his position and taste, he popularized soft collars, belted trousers, cuffs, Fair Isle sweaters, and all sorts of things.
It's funny to see people imbue traditional men's tailoring with their own prejudices. They assume every man who wore a suit in the far past must be a staunch conservative like them. The truth is much more complicated. 🧵
This bias, of course, stems out of the 1960s and 70s, from which many of our contemporary politics also spring. I don't need to belabor this point because you already know it. The framing is neatly summed up in this Mad Men scene — the rag tag hippie vs man in a suit.
Thus, people assume that men in suits must always be part of the conservative establishment. But this was not always so. The suit was once a working man's garment. When Keir Hardie, founder of the Labour Party, arrived for his first day in Parliament, he wore a suit.
There's no "right" or "wrong" answer here, so feel free to go with your gut. I will then give you my views below. 🧵
In men's tailoring, the area below the jacket's buttoning point is colloquially known as the "quarters" among menswear enthusiasts. Or the "front edge" by actual tailors. These terms refer to the edge of the coat, connecting to lapels.
Some suit jackets have very closed quarters, such as you see on the left. In this way, the jacket forms a Y-shaped silhouette.
Other suits have open quarters, such that the front edge sweeps back on the hips, as you see on the right. This forms an X-shaped silhouette.
We will start with the most formal and work our way down, so that you can adjust things in ways that make sense for you.
The first and most obvious choice is to wear a soft-shouldered suit rendered in a material such as linen or seersucker. Seersucker can even be tonal (pic 4)
However, when it comes to dressing for the heat, it's important to remember that the fabric's weight and weave are more important than fiber. A 10oz tropical wool — known for its open weave — will wear cooler than a densely woven 14 oz linen because it allows air to pass through
Let's first start with some terms. The term oxford refers to a footwear style where the facings have been sewn into the vamp. By contrast, the term derby refers to a style where the facings sit on top of the vamp.
On the left, we see an oxford. On the right, we see a derby.
I believe that men wore tailored clothing best from the 1930s through '80s. If you share this premise, there are certain ideas about how an outfit should be put together, such as how oxfords look best with suits, while derbies go with suits or sport coats