Your Selection
The Archibald Christmas party is rarely a sophisticated affair, and last year was no exception. We stumbled out of the bar, ready for some fresh air and a cigarette before continuing the evening’s festivities. Everyone started fumbling for a lighter when a man, half cloaked in darkness and leaning against a railing, proffered his. Cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, he was wearing the Ultimate Leather Jacket. It was a perfectly fitted biker, with a burnished sheen and silver epaulettes illuminated by the streetlight.
We don’t remember much of that night, but we knew that we wanted to make jackets that could make us feel (almost) as cool as the man we encountered on that crisp December evening.
We began to research as soon as we came back to the office in January. Getting back into the swing of things after the holidays is never easy, especially for us (read our blog on why we hate January)[https://www.archibaldlondon.com/journal/article/we-hate-january]. But the search for The Ultimate Leather Jacket made the grey mornings go a little bit faster. Our minds began to swim with images of hellraisers, movie stars, and motorcycles. Just like the sneaker, each decade in the past century has had an iconic leather jacket moment.
Today, pretty much every label or brand out there sells their own version. The spectrum of style, quality and price is immense. You can buy a jacket made of cheap, bonded leather (essentially scraps of the material melded together) on the high street for as little as £100. Designer jackets made of the finest full grain nappa leather can go for as much as £15,000 or more. Ultimately, we came to the conclusion that a well made leather jacket which lasts longer than a lifetime is a piece of clothing to take seriously and invest in.
We’ve wanted to find our first London-based artisans for a long time, observing with interest the revival of small scale manufacturing in our own backyard. The East End of London is steeped in centuries of sartorial history, with the addition of a rare combination of other factors. Waves of immigration that brought different crafting traditions together, abject poverty, naked ambition, rapid industrialisation, and political activism have turned the area into a crucible of cultural expression. We came face to face with a curious irony when we were investigating the history of garment making in the area.
Now converted into a coworking space, the building where we have our offices was once a warehouse which stored clothes and luxury goods. It’s a familiar story across the East End. Manufacturing hubs have been gutted and transformed into luxury homes, offices, or posh (read: overpriced) coffee shops. Our team resolved to support a local workshop or maker as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Luckily, we discovered that one of the finest leather garment manufacturers in the world is a twenty minute walk from the office, so we got in touch and arranged a visit.
Walking into the small, red brick square where the leather workshop is based feels like stepping back in time. It was only the sight of a bearded, tartan-clad and bespectacled hipster that brought us firmly back to the present.
You can smell the leather as soon as you head up the narrow flight of stairs. Through a small office space, you make your way to the workshop floor. Here the leathery scent is heady, combining with the sharp rapping and staccato of hammers and sewing machines. There’s an Alice in Wonderland quality to the place; it’s a sea of bright red leather skirts, strips of silver zippers piled high, and spools of colourful string arranged in boxes. Ahmet, who runs the shop, told us the pieces we saw would end up on the world’s most prestigious runways.
We chatted with a machinist called Tony, who’s been working in the East End garment business since the 50s. He described the changes he’d seen over the years, from his colourful youth when trade was booming to difficult times in the late eighties. He couldn’t keep up with the number of factories and workshops closing their doors for good then. He’s one of six machinists left who understands the trade as it was, where craft and quality was prided. Tony’s hopeful that brands will be bucking the trend and bringing business back to the East End in the next decade, as consumers turn away from mass production and the accompanying consequences.
We had grown partial to seeing what was new on the artisans’ work table each time we stopped by the workshop. They tolerated our curiosity, turning to chat even as their fingers continued to work the fabric with the habit of decades of practice. One day, we stopped at a pile of the softest shearling, calling over the rest of the team to come and have a feel.
Ahmet's shearling (the skin of a recently shorn sheep or lamb that has been tanned with the wool left on) is sourced from a respected tannery in Spain he has been working with for years. As soon as we felt the shearling in Ahmet’s workshop, we knew we wanted to make a coat with it. Sensing our enthusiasm for the sensationally soft material, Ahmet pointed us to our third and final discovery: suede lying in an unexplored corner of the workshop. It was unbelievably supple, sourced from Ahmet’s trusted Italian producers. Once we had seen and felt the three materials alongside one another, the collection became a no-brainer. After months of designing and prototyping, we’ve created outerwear must-haves that are made to last in style for a lifetime. In short, classics. It seems odd looking back that what had started as an organisation-wide infatuation with a stranger outside the pub had evolved to become a statement of excellence, true to who we are to the hilt. Or rather, to the excellently-stitched lining.