Rake academy wool story

FABRIC CONDITIONING: A GUIDE TO WOOL

Getting to grips with the basic properties of wool — the undisputed ‘king of cloths’ — is a prerequisite for any successful tailoring experience, argues the rake’s guest contributor, a Savile Row tailor of considerable repute. by richard anderson photography luke carby

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ong before recorded history, primitive man realised that the fluffy fibre found on the backs of sheep — which were among the first animals to be domesticated — could be used to create a durable, flexible cloth that offered protection from adverse weather. Several aeons on, wool remains the world’s number-one natural fibre for the manufacture of human garments. Because of the insulation provided by the crimped fibres, it is warm in winter but cool in summer; durable beyond question, it is also extremely comfortable because it breathes and has natural elasticity, thanks to its complex protein structure. As well as a remarkable recovery from creasing, it also absorbs dyes deeply — when wool fades, you can assume it is the dye that is breaking down.

Human ingenuity can’t compete with evolution — it’s taken millennia for nature to come up with a fleece that provides sheep, goats and other creatures a coat that is appropriate for the environment in which they live. And that is why wool remains the basis of almost all cloths that we at No. 13 Savile Row recommend to any client when he comes in and, before his first fitting, makes that all-important initial decision that will define the rest of his order.

Those new to bespoke tailoring, though, may find the wealth of choice when it comes to fabrics daunting — after all, most high-end tailors put in excess of 5,000 swatches before their clients, all varying in colour, design, weight and handle. Some of the basic questions are obvious: is the suit intended for business, a special occasion or both? It must always be deemed fit for purpose. And the answers to such questions are widely, if not universally, known: the ruggedness and rich colouring of tweed make it ideal for country or informal wear, for example, while the finer-spun worsted is elegantly formal.

However, the fact that both cloths are available in a range of different weights and fineness throws up a plethora of new questions: not least, is it years of suave performance, or the luxurious handle of cashmere or Super 250s that you wish to add to your wardrobe? It can be a veritable minefield, but certainly both a fascinating and fulfilling journey to the final conclusion.

The two main areas of consideration are weight and handle.

As a cutter with many years’ experience, I can assert that the heavier the cloth, the better the garment will look and perform.

Over the years, with the advent of central heating and the effects of global warming, cloths have become lighter — 6oz

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to 8oz is now common for those in tropical climes (7oz to 10oz would be best for northern summer; 11oz to 12oz for spring or autumn; 13oz to 18oz for winter).

When I began my career at Huntsman in 1982, heavyweight suits or even 15/16oz mediums were the norm. Clothes warm enough for the draughty castles occupied by our forebears were still the order of the day, along with tweed, flannel or Saxony suits for Friday and weekend wear. A substantial serge blazer with grey flannels or cavalry-twill trousers might have been an option for the latter.

Just as the demand for lighter fabrics has increased, technological advancements to cater for that demand have arisen, with the spinning and weaving processes making the lightweight-wool market super-sophisticated: high-quality fabrics are now available at a meagre 6.5oz (about 184g) — enough to make my old ‘guvnors’ at Huntsman break into a cold sweat. Even in the summer, we generally advise customers to choose slightly higher than this: probably around 7oz to 8oz (about 240g). This ensures that we’ll still be working with good, clean-cut English worsteds that will tailor well and, for such a weight, perform admirably. My favourite at this weight comes from Italian supplier Loro Piana’s Four Seasons collection: a Super 130s wool with a fine handle. Another that I recommend is the Tasmanian collection, a fine blend of Super 150s. As a basic rule of thumb, the crispness of fabrics produced by the English mills juxtaposes sharply with the softness of the Italian cloths.

As for various types of wool and their individual merits, fresco has been a firm favourite on The Row for decades, mainly because of the clean, better-defined lines that tailors and cutters are able achieve with it (the tightness of its twist and weave gives it a hard, crisp texture). Using high-twist, multiply yarn in a plain hopsack weave, it comes in three different weights; the lighter, more open constructions are ideal for high-summer wear, while the heavier option is a practical alternative for autumn, winter and early spring. Soft and comfortable, fresco is peerless when it comes to coping with the rigours of travelling.

Mr. Hall, my original master at Huntsman, was not known for his cheery disposition, but even his face would light up at the sight of a fresco coat arriving in the cutting room from the Heddon Street workshop, confident in the knowledge that both he and the customer were going to be satisfied. The material’s

The author, Richard Anderson — proprietor of the eponymous atelier at No. 13 Savile Row, and author of the entertaining, yarn-spinning book Bespoke: Savile Row Ripped and Smoothed — looks the part for his chosen subject this issue, in his favourite slim-cut fresco two-piece.

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Seven of the best: (clockwise from top left) flannel — the ultimate expression of the finishing process known as ‘milling’, whereby cloth is effectively hammered or squeezed to a point of greater solidity, resulting in a cloth that offers “a softer outline and drape”, according to the author; as seen here, mainland tweeds tend to be harder and stronger than their island-produced counterparts, exemplified in the image below; Loro Piana’s Four Seasons Super 130s — a clean-cut English worsted, appreciated by the author for its fine handle; a cloth from Loro Piana’s Tasmanian collection, a fine blend of Super 150s; a lightweight worsted 11oz Super 130s, made possible by advancements in spinning and weaving technology; fresco — “a firm favourite on The Row for decades,” according to the author, “mainly because of the clean, better-defined lines that tailors and cutters are able achieve with it.”

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performance in transit was such that, when Huntsman’s joint Managing Director Fred Lintott was stranded at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport during one of the century’s worst snowstorms in the winter of 1967, he rolled the jacket of his grey fresco suit into a pillow and used it for three nights, finding that it provided as good a night’s sleep as one could reasonably expect under the circumstances. The coat was also creaseless by breakfast time each morning. Along with mohairwool mix, it became more or less a uniform for staff and many regular customers alike — a tradition that we still continue at Richard Anderson.

Plain worsteds come in clean-cut or milled form. The former has a flat, clean texture and surface, perfect for cleaner, harder outlines, while the latter – which, in the extreme, is flannel – offers a softer outline and drape. They run the gamut of the various weights, and offer a greater colour variety than fresco.

The milled finish has a slight pile, creating a softer handle and drape than the harder, sharper line of the clean-cut finish. In my estimation, the 13oz clean-cut greys are timelessly understated, and perfect for both lounge suits and formalwear.

Of course, one has to be mindful of the seasons, taking into account the six to eight weeks — the standard at the majority of the Savile Row houses — that it will require for the suit to be made. When it comes to ordering for winter — perhaps in late summer or early autumn — the classic flannel suit is enjoying a renaissance. Fox Brothers and JJ Minnis still make truly authentic wool flannels, which provide a subtle softness of drape — the ultimate goal in the pursuit of elegance, in my opinion. The mottled light grey favoured by celebrated style arbiter Gianni Agnelli always made him stand out from the pack. Working equally well in single- or double-breasted styles, it achieves a timeless blending of casualness and formality.

Tweeds are a subject unto themselves. These coarser-weave fibres come in vibrant colours because they were originally designed to blend in with the countryside, where the sporting pursuits for which they were worn took place. Whether plain or patterned in heather or barley tones, they are immensely attractive as a casual suit or sport coat. Predominantly spun and woven in Scotland or Ireland, they have always been and remain a bastion of suave menswear.

Different types of tweeds have different features: hard, strong versions tend to come from makers on the mainland ( Johnstons of Elgin, Hunters of Brora); softer varieties from small businesses on the outlying islands (Ardalanish of Isle of Mull; Breanish of the Outer Hebrides; Islay, who are based on the Southern Hebrides). Tweed producers were once cottage industries — wives would spin yarn during the long, cold days by open peat fires in their cottages whilst their husbands farmed

the land. The smell of the burning peat would impregnate the wool, and so, in the early phases of industrialisation, buyers of Harris Tweed suits and jackets would sniff the material to determine whether the cloth was ‘homespun’ or machine-made.

It would be remiss, in any overview of wool, not to mention the exotic options: fibres from camels and members of the goat and llama families such as vicuña, guanaco and rare breeds of sheep.

Mountain goats are blessed with coats of fine wool to combat the high-altitude temperatures of the Andes and the Himalayas. As recently as the 1960s, many of these breeds were hunted almost to the point of extinction; these days, they are farmed, and continue to produce hair that is light as a feather, soft as the touch of a newborn baby, warm and so, so comfortable. People often question these fabrics’ longevity, but I vividly recall Gregory Peck bringing into Huntsman for repair a vicuña dressing gown that he’d had made for him 40 years before (he was a customer there for some 50 years). Like most of life’s finer goods, these garments need to be properly maintained in order to be enjoyed. Although expensive due to their rarity, they will provide years of luxurious pleasure and service — the core reason why people take the time, trouble and expense to buy clothes from Savile Row. There are two basic reasons to wear clothes: protection and decoration. There is no other natural fibre that addresses both functions with so much versatility. Any man of rakish inclination who is not already in the know will be generously rewarded by delving much further into a subject, the surface of which I’ve just about scratched. Believe me, it’s no onerous task.

WOOL BY NUMBERS 20,000 The number of times wool can be bent without breaking. (The figure is 3,000 for cotton, 2,000 for silk and just 75 for rayon.)

30 The percentage of a wool garment’s weight that it can absorb in moisture without starting to feel clammy to the wearer.

80 The percentage of wool’s insulating capacity that is retained, even when it is saturated.

2.1 million Estimated global wool production, in tonnes, two-thirds of which is used to make garments. Australia alone produces about one-fifth of that total.

37 The percentage of world production classed as fine wools. Medium wools make up 20 percent, coarse wools 41 percent.

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