The Cloth
We buy the mill, not the season
Twelve mills, some of them older than the countries they sit in, and why we have not changed the list in nineteen years.
2 February 2026
Most houses buy a collection. They walk a fair in Milan, choose what looks fresh for autumn, and place an order that expires with the season. We buy relationships with twelve mills and return to them every year, which means our cloth book changes about as often as our opinions do.
Biella, for cashmere
The water in the Biella valley is soft, and soft water finishes cashmere in a way that no chemical process quite reproduces. The mill we use spins long-staple fibre only — the shorter stuff is cheaper, feels identical in the shop, and pills within a season. Long staple is why a Marchetti knit looks better in year three than year one.
Ireland, for linen
Irish linen has a dry hand and a heavier weight than the Italian stuff, which means it drapes rather than clings and creases like a gentleman rather than a napkin. We have our trousers cut from it at 380 grams — noticeably heavier than fashion linen — precisely so they hang straight through a long August lunch.
It creases like a gentleman rather than a napkin.
The West of England, for flannel
Grey flannel is the most difficult cloth to buy well. Cheap flannel is woven thin and brushed hard to fake the nap; it looks magnificent for four months and then shines at the seat and elbows. Proper West of England flannel is woven dense and brushed gently, and it goes on looking chalky and matte for decades.
We have made the same three greys since 2007. Nobody has asked us for a fourth.
Why it matters commercially
Buying this way costs more per metre and much more in patience — some cloths are allocated a year ahead. In exchange we never have to discount, because nothing we sell goes out of date, and a client who bought trousers in 2019 can order the identical cloth today. Continuity is a luxury service that costs nothing to deliver, if you build for it.
