How my grandfather dressed - the photos

1937
A rather knatty wavy-weave tie and sports jacket

Yesterday I posted a long interview with my grandfather about what he wore to work and out of work during his career at Barclays Bank. It revealed some interesting points about the dress of the working man - his socks matched his trousers, for example, so the black-sock phenomenon is a recent one, but they were always the short variety, so that was never as universal as some suggest.

I also found it revealing that he rarely owned more than a couple of suits and one lasted for decades, but they were made by local bespoke tailors. So to all those who say bespoke is expensive - yes it is, but not if you only buy a suit every few years. Problems with longevity can be largely solved by taking good care of the suit (don't get drunk and fall over) and using heavier cloths.

Finally, I liked the evidence of increasing casualness in the wardrobe as the decades wore on. Cap toes gave way to half brogues. Waistcoats were dropped but trousers remained high. The bowler hat was dropped in the Seventies but, even back in 1938, no one expected a clerk in a suburban office to wear a hat, and a brown trilby was sufficient to work in central London.

In this post, I present more of a pictorial timeline, illustrating some of those points made in the previous post - starting with the shot at top of him in the garden, aged 16/17.

1940
In knitwear, as a telegraphist on a minesweeping trawler

1941
In midshipman's uniform, with friend in army battle dress

1947
Post-War, at the weekend. In a "home made" tie

1957
On duty, though without waistcoat. Sombre, simple, serious pieces

1957
At a bank meeting in three piece and regimental tie. His superior on his right. And facing, the head of the bank training centre in a much more adventurous patterned tie and glen check suit

1965
My favourite photo. The tourist attraction. Still sombre and simple, though with waistcoat definitely gone

1970
Though we can't see what he is wearing, colleagues display that similarly simple colour palette and some surviving waistcoats

1970s
In typical black tie. Good fit, bow tied by hand, with cummerbund as was the norm

1987
Post-retirement, greeting Asian colleagues. Lightweight suit with a wider cut to the trousers

2007
At my wedding reception, with my cousin and his granddaughter, Ellie. A simple wedding combination with what, for him, was the instinctive 'wedding tie' - a nice little Spitalfields woven grey

How my grandfather dressed

My grandfather, JFN “Bill” Wedge, was born in 1921 and worked his whole life for Barclays Bank, interrupted only by serving as an officer in the Navy during the Second World War. He retired in 1981. During those years he didn’t spend that much money on clothes – he began as a clerk in a small branch in Croydon, south London – but he certainly cared about what he wore, and has done ever since.

Talking to him about exactly what he and his colleagues wore, particularly in the first 30 years of his career, is quite revealing. Much of our discussions of dress, after all, focus on royalty, celebrities or aristocrats. And we are none of these things. This is what ordinary English men, men like us, wore during those purported heydays of style.

(A post with more photos will follow this one.)

When did you first go to work and what did you wear?

In 1938. I had one suit, mid-grey, made by a local suburban tailor and which I wore every day.

I wore black cap-toed shoes, with socks to match the suit (short, not knee length). The shirt was soft-collared – men higher up in the bank wore a detachable, stiff collar, but I didn’t as a junior – and double-cuffed with cufflinks.

I didn’t wear a hat, although when I spent two weeks in a City branch I borrowed my father’s brown trilby to wear. The hat showed a difference in formality between town and the suburbs.

The trilby was always brown, as were accessories like gloves and a briefcase usually. No brown shoes of course though – those were just for the weekend. I remember saying to a friend at Midland Bank who was retiring, it would be nice to see him in town, “but I suppose it will probably be in brown shoes from now on”.

Suits were all three-piece, high-waisted with braces. You needed the waistcoat as there was no central heating, and you worked all day in the full suit. The only exception was something we called a black alpaca jacket. I don’t know whether it was made of alpaca or not, but that’s what we called it and you wore it instead of your regular jacket, to save the wear. It was very lightweight and, because it was black, respectable.

Overcoats were grey or navy. And you always carried an umbrella everywhere. Even at the height of summer, I’d have the umbrella and, later, a bowler. It was ridiculous really.

What ties did men wear?

We didn’t wear regimental or club ties really – club ties came later and it was too long since the First World War for regiments to be relevant. So just simple, conservative patterns. There was a bank sports club tie, but that was about it.

I always wore a white cotton handkerchief as well. It was just for show - you might have another to blow your nose. I remember some men had a piece of cardboard with three little perfect triangles stuck on the top.

What did you wear at the weekend?

A blazer or sports jacket and flannels. That has been the weekend wear ever since I can remember. Very occasionally it might have been a suit – I remember buying a tweedy suit at one point – but that was an exception. I wouldn’t wear a hat necessarily, perhaps a cloth cap if the weather required it. But a proper hat was for the office.

There was no dress down on Fridays, no one was off to the country in the evening. But we would wear a sports jacket and flannels if we were open on a Saturday morning. And on Saturday night the brown shoes would be changed at the door of the church hall for black-patent pumps, ready for dancing.

What did you wear during the War?

You lived in your uniform largely. A matelot with red badges for every day, and a number one suit with gold ones for going ashore. New collars were sometimes trailed in the sea to make them paler blue and so imply longer service. There were plenty of fiddly knots you could tie with your cap ribbon (which in my case read 'HM Minesweeper'), which the old stagers were masters at.

As an officer I later wore white shirt, separate collar and black tie, with a wing collar for special mess nights. I remember when desert boots became popular for off duty, as well, and I've had a pair of suede shoes in that colour ever since.

What changed after the War?

Nothing particularly. We were given a demob suit - mine was blue with faint red stripes - plus I think a raincoat and a pretty awful hat. I supplemented that with my existing grey suit when I returned to the bank. There was no new suit, but I remember buying a pearl-grey poplin shirt, which I treasured.

I was posted to the City, to our chief foreign branch, in 1951. That was when I bought my first bowler hat, from a shop in Gracechurch Street. I remember your head was measured using that wooden frame with the pins around the edge. Then the assistant steamed it into the right shape for you. I later bought a bowler from Lock & Co that I still have.

Not everyone wore a bowler hat. Some wore trilbies, some wore no hat at all after the War. I was probably putting it on a bit, for someone who had just arrived. But as a colleague said of me at the time, “Bill, if you had money I could see you becoming a bit of a fop”.

Is that when club ties became popular?

Yes, after the War there was rather a craze for them. I remember my old boys’ club having a discussion about what tie they should have. And I was a member of the Cornhill dining club – the debate there was over whether the tie should have silver or gold head of corn on them. I was for silver and I think I lost.

Before the War these ties had just had stripes on them, but now they had motifs, or both, simply because there were too many clubs for just stripes. People wore ties from their tennis club, their local golf club. The Fifties was certainly a time for ties.

What changes were there in dress in the Sixties and Seventies?

Not much changed in terms of office wear. Kipper ties were popular at one point. I had a couple of suits made by Hector Powe. Cap-toe shoes gave way to half brogues - from Church's. And waistcoats slowly disappeared.

I stopped wearing a bowler hat probably some time in the early Seventies. I was by no means the last man in the office to wear a bowler hat, but during the Sixties it was a rare enough sight in London for me to become something of a tourist attraction (see image, top). Foreigners would occasionally stop me and ask to have their photo taken.

You travelled a lot in Asia for the bank during this period. How did that affect what you wore?

We wore lightweight suits. No linen, all wool. But we did have to carry black tie everywhere with us. Because there would be formal dinners and everyone would dress for dinner. Soft collar, soft Marcella front, buttoned with a cummerbund. I never had a set of studs. When I first started work that kind of dinner would probably have been in white tie, but I wasn't invited to any at that stage.
The clothes for travel might not sound much, but I remember travelling with the vice-president of the bank at one point, and him saying, “Bill, how is it you always seem to have the right thing to wear?”

UPDATE: Passaggio Cravatte x Permanent Style

Thanks everyone for your enthusiastic response to the tie offer, which went online yesterday. We have already sold a handful, with the vintage Italian silks It3 and It4 selling out.

To try and placate those who couldn't get their hands on these colours, we are adding two more Italians to the offering, below. To read more about Passaggio, click here. For more on the offer, scroll down.

It6

It5

Permanent Style x Passaggio Cravatte: regimental ties

Following our recent project with Italian tiemaker Passaggio Cravatte, I’m pleased to offer the second iteration of this collaboration, focusing on regimental ties. (You can see the samples at the bottom of the post.)

For anyone who missed the first project, Passaggio Cravatte is a young tiemaking company based just outside Milan, but using a workshop in Naples to make lightweight ties very much redolent of that region. They specialise in multifold, lightly lined ties that tie a beautiful knot but sit gently on the wearer. I particularly recommend both four fold and seven-fold varieties.

Passaggio also differentiates itself by working with vintage and vintage-inspired silks. This offering of regimental-striped ties on Permanent Style comes in two varieties: vintage Italian silks, of which only one multifold tie can be made per silk, and English silks that have been recreated by Passaggio based on old regimental patterns. These are not old, but they are unique to Passaggio and are a much more contemporary take on the same ethos. As you can probably discern from the images, the actual vintage silks have a slightly larger weave and matte finish. The recreated English patterns are smoother and finer.

We are also differentiating this second project in another way: making the ties out of only two pieces of silk. Every mass-produced modern tie is made out of three pieces, at the front, back, and a small strip in the middle. It’s much easier to cut it this way and you waste less silk. We wish to set our ties apart by using only two pieces. There is no practical benefit to it. It is, in a sense, needless. But it is an artisanal detail we wish to recreate for the sheer sake of the craft.

Using just two pieces is more expensive. You can order any of the ties below in three pieces if you prefer, for 45 euros less. We do not wish to impose, merely to propose.

The prices with a two-piece construction are:

Classic three fold: €165

Four fold: €185

Seven fold: €215

As with the first offer, ties can be tipped or untipped. For untipped ties, add €5.

All orders should be made to my address, simon@simoncrompton.co.uk, and payment will be made to Gianni at Passaggio on confirmation of the order. He only accepts bank transfers for payment, and will confirm postage costs. Postage by UPS to the US is normally around €50 (in the Passaggio box). Details of width and length can also be confirmed with Gianni at that point.

The first offer sold out, barring two slightly more adventurous patterns, within a week. And everyone seemed to be happy with results. Some feedback from those:

“My Passaggio ties came in today. Fantastic!”

“I am delighted with the finished tie, even better than I imagined! Both the material and the finishing are exceptional, thank you. I will be back for more.”

“Great to have access to limited silks in this way. And reading about them beforehand gave such an insight into the process. Thank you.”

For more on Passaggio and to see some of my ties made by them close up, see post here.

Italian regimentals

It 1

It 2

It 3 - SOLD OUT

It 4 - SOLD OUT

English regimentals

E1

E2

E3

E4

E5

E6

E7

E8

How panama hats are made

Following on from my post last week on having a hat made by Brent Black, here is a little background on the craft involved in making them. Next week we’ll move on to the fitting process.

The making of a hat begins with the farming of cogollos: long stiff green spikes of plant that, if left to mature, will open up into a spread of palm leaves about a metre wide. The straws that the weaver wants are the youngest, most undeveloped leaf shoots in the centre of these spikes. To get to them, he must first pick the right cogollos (at the right point of development) and then peel back the tough outer layer and a few tougher shoots, revealing a long, pale-coloured fan in the middle. Even the edges of this accordion are a little too tough, and so he uses the tip of a deer antler to slice them off, leaving a few dozen long, tender strips to work with.

Although pale, the strips (tallos) are still definitely green, vegetal and leaf-like at this stage. It is only several stages of sulphur application, including two smokings and a lot of beating, that give the hat the creamy colour we associate with panamas. First, though, they must be boiled: curled up into a black pot and stirred over a fire. Thus cooked, they are hung up outside the houses – on washing lines if the sun is not too strong, otherwise in the shade. As many of the houses in Montecristi are on stilts, they can even be hung up underneath.

Next, one of the more unhealthy stages of panama hat-making. The tallos are placed in a white wooden box – similar in size and structure to a bee hive – and burning sulphur placed underneath it. Hot coals keep the sulphur smoking and it runs up through the box, bleaching the straws to the colour we readily associate with panama hats.  

The actual weaving of a hat begins with the creation of a small cross of four pairs of straws, which are then interwoven on the fingers of a weaver and gradually expanded with the addition of more straws to create the plantilla – the circle that forms the top of the hat. You can always tell a weaver’s hands because he has long, carefully maintained thumbnails. They are used to split the straws prior to weaving, creating exactly the right thickness and length.

Then the other unhealthy bit. When the plantilla is as big as the top of a hat, it is placed on a wooden block or form, which sits on a wooden platform at about waist height. The weaver bends over and places his chest on top of the block, holding the hat in place as he continues to weave the hat around the edges, bending the edge down over the wooden form. Those extended periods of pressure on the chest are not good for weavers, but thankfully there is more awareness than there once was and they take regular breaks.  

When the crown is big enough and it’s time to start weaving the brim, a leather strap is tied tightly around the bottom of the hat. The weaver then starts weaving outwards and, when he is finished, leaves five or six inches of excess straw around the edges. He does not finish the brim; that is the job of a rematadora, a specialised job that involves weaving the straws back again, towards the crown, in order to create a loose band around the outside. Even the final tightening is done by someone else, the azocador. And the cortador trims off the loose ends. After washing and bleaching (more sulphur), it’s over to the apaleador to pound the hats with a wooden mallet, to soften them.  

The apaleador’s job is my favourite. It is his strong-armed work that produces the characteristic colour of the panamas we know, as he hammers them and regularly sprinkles sulphur powder on and between the hats. The contrast between the delicate weaving and the brutal force of the apaleador is striking. It also shows how fragile raw materials can be woven into something that is pliable and strong.

Brent and his colleagues in Montecristi pick the hats they want, going for a range but always including the very best few. Brent then blocks them all himself in Hawaii, which is almost as admirable a craft as the weaving. It’s what creates the perfect fit, which if you have a long, large head like me, is a godsend.

More on the technical side of blocking, perhaps, another time. In the next post we will look at how Brent’s fitting process by post works.   

What gloves to wear: Reader question

Dear Simon,

I am seeking advice about gloves. Firstly what colour pairings do gloves go with? Is it possible to be adventurous or should one stick to brown and black? Also where could I find a very tight pair of leather gloves? Fingerless gloves for shooting do not agree with me and a very tight (for enhanced sensitivity) pair would be great.

Image: The Sartorialist

Thank you
George

-

George,

The key to gloves is not to match them with anything, but as with any accessory, be aware of colours that go well together because of their relative formality or colour palette.

There is nothing wrong with brown or black, but black in particular is rather limiting. I would only wear black gloves with suits and other formal outfits when you are likely to be wearing black shoes. Dark brown is more flexible, as it would certainly go with any other more casual outfit, but chestnut is even better. And now we begin to get into our stride.

A tan glove has more potential for patination, which can wonderful personality to any leather product, and skins like peccary or carpincho provide softness and interesting texture in the same tan tones. Green, too, in paler variations, is more interesting than brown but within the same autumnal colour palette. I have a particularly lovely pair of green lambskin gloves from Bill Amberg that have proven to be surprisingly versatile.

The paler or darker – essentially, the less saturated – a glove is the more formal it can be. Hence yellow chamois is a classic formal glove and, though a little showy, can be a lovely alternative to black with suits.

You have a wide range of choices therefore, and are certainly not restricted to black and brown. If you are a lawyer and wear grey suits every day with black Oxfords, black gloves are probably a must. The managing partner may wear yellow chamois with the same outfits. Elsewhere, tan is probably the most versatile colour and dark browns or other dark colours the next.

Looking at the Dent’s site (the Heritage Collection is hand-sewn and stretched – see post here), the options include very dark browns, greys and greens alongside the standard colours. Lissom & Muster also stocks some good Chester Jefferies pairs.

Recommending some that are close fitting is difficult, as much depends on your hands. But you want to go for unlined gloves, and those with the seams turned out so the fit can be closer, particularly through the fingers. With any of the online heritage retailers, you’ll probably find that stock is low at the moment as this is the ‘off’ season. But you only have a few weeks to wait.

Simon

F Scott Fitzgerald on poise and repose

We all fuss a little too much with what we wear, if we care about it. A reader reminded me recently of a  wonderful passage in Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night that illustrates quite how much this fiddling can undermine our ideas of elegance and poise: 

-

They were at Voisins waiting for Nicole, six of them, Rosemary, the Norths, Dick Diver and two young French musicians. They were looking over the other patrons of the restaurant to see if they had repose — Dick said no American men had any repose, except himself, and they were seeking an example to confront him with. Things looked black for them — not a man had come into the restaurant for ten minutes without raising his hand to his face.

“We ought never to have given up waxed mustaches,” said Abe. “Nevertheless Dick isn’t the ONLY man with repose —”

“Oh, yes, I am.”

“— but he may be the only sober man with repose.”

A well-dressed American had come in with two women who swooped and fluttered unselfconsciously around a table. Suddenly, he perceived that he was being watched — whereupon his hand rose spasmodically and arranged a phantom bulge in his necktie. In another unseated party a man endlessly patted his shaven cheek with his palm, and his companion mechanically raised and lowered the stub of a cold cigar. The luckier ones fingered eyeglasses and facial hair, the unequipped stroked blank mouths, or even pulled desperately at the lobes of their ears.

A well-known general came in, and Abe, counting on the man’s first year at West Point — that year during which no cadet can resign and from which none ever recovers — made a bet with Dick of five dollars.

His hands hanging naturally at his sides, the general waited to be seated. Once his arms swung suddenly backward like a jumper’s and Dick said, “Ah!” supposing he had lost control, but the general recovered and they breathed again — the agony was nearly over, the garçon was pulling out his chair . 

With a touch of fury the conqueror shot up his hand and scratched his gray immaculate head.

“You see,” said Dick smugly, “I’m the only one.”

-

Cleverley chukka boot - casual wear

Speaking as we have been in recent weeks about what to wear outside of a suit - and indeed what to wear with jeans - I thought it interesting to show this Cleverley client, Jason Statham, wearing bespoke chukka boots with jeans recently on Jay Leno.

If you like handmade or benchmade shoes, but rarely wear formal clothing, then a boot is a good option. You get all the beauty and benefits of bespoke but without the formality. Other good options are suede shoes or slip-ons.

Indeed, with bespoke slip-ons or boots, you get the added bonus of great fit around the ankle - something that can be very difficult to find off the shelf. As with the waists of jackets and knitwear, the ankle on a shoe is often made a little bigger than the average man requires because he may not notice if it is too big, but certainly will if it is too small.

Nice shoes, and great with jeans. Jason's outfit overall is also pretty good, with a casual-weave jacket in the pale grey we were discussing last week. Most men would benefit from a collared shirt underneath it, however, rather than crewneck knitwear.

Photos: John Park

Brent Black panama hats

I completely understand that the amount of money spent on handmade accessories can seem extravagant. Several people made comments along those lines regarding my Alfred Dunhill glasses case a few months ago. But if you have pursued a policy of investing in the very best clothing and accoutrements for several years, and stuck to the principle that every item must be practical and regularly used, then frankly you eventually run out of things to buy.

Not suits, ties and handkerchiefs, it should be said. If you look hard enough you can always find holes to fill there. But other items – bags, pens, belts, wallets, hats, glasses cases, dressing gowns – are limited by the principle of use. If you buy more you stop being an enthusiast and become a collector.

With this in mind, I looked recently to fill one more gap in my collection: a top-end panama hat. It had come some way down the list because in London the weather is rarely consistent enough to feel that any day requires such a hat. There are perhaps 10 such days a year. And a fine panama is not the sort to be taken on holiday – I spend my time being buried in the sand by two children under five, after all. One mishandling or misplaced foot and the fine panama weave would never be the same again.

After a fair bit of research, conversations with men I respect and rather more discussions with the man himself, I opted for a panama from Brent Black. This, then, is the first in a short series running through that process and displaying the end result.

Brent, it is fair to say, is a character. A forceful personality. But then, I’m always a little disappointed when I meet someone in this industry and they are not. Plus, it takes a particular temperament to set up a business selling the finest hats in the world, based on repeated visits to the makers that establish real personal relationships with everyone involved. And the visits require going from Hawaii to Montecristi, Ecuador.

Brent has been in the business (having left advertising) since 1988, following a visit to Montecristi. He rather fell in love with the process and the people, as I’m sure we can all empathise with, and, unlike the rest of us, had the ambition to personally commit to making a profitable business that also helped save the craft of fine hat weaving.

A quick visit to Brent’s website will tell you much about his character. He likes short sentences. And dry jokes. But he is a genuine individual and, I hope by this point, a friend. More importantly, his hats are absolutely stunning and provide great value in an age when there are very few sources of good hats around.

More on the process of making next week.

How to dress casually: Reader question

Dear Simon,

Many thanks for the invaluable resource of your blog when it comes to style. I started reading a month or so ago and am taking pleasure in devouring the wealth of information there is on classic sartorial menswear.

However, the occasions on which I am required to wear a suit are extremely limited (I am a student) and, while I cannot wait to see the day when I will be free to wear a suit more often and the doors this will open for experimentation, it would be of great help if you could provide some more information on how to dress casually, in terms of different ensembles one could come up with to avoid looking the same every day. The posts I have found most helpful thus far have been 'The modern man needs a good blazer'  and 'Reader question: what do you wear at the weekend?' I want to leave behind the hoodies and printed T-shirts of my youth and start dressing like a grownup, though not in a suit.

All the best,

Alex

-

Dear Alex,

I’ve had a think about this and I think I can summarise my main points about dressing casually in three bullets. There are many others around accessories, colour, texture etc, but hopefully those are pulled out in other posts.

1 Wear proper trousers

I wrote about this a couple of years ago in the post ‘Why men are scared of real trousers’. The key is to move away from jeans, though not abandon them entirely, and to make sure all such trousers have a simple, straight cut. Nothing fashion-led, nothing ripped or overly distressed, just a simple style and fitting well on the waist. With jeans, try buying raw denim that will then gently wear with you and how you wear them. I like Albam myself, and they’re good value.

With other trousers, get some good chinos. Start with the classic cream and then expand into tan, green and brown. Again, simple with a straight cut. The difference between smart and casual can be demonstrated by Incotex, my favourite brand here. Their standard range is smart and clean, but the Red line is distressed and far more casual as a result.

2 Wear a jacket or substitute

It’s easy to make do with wearing a shirt or T-shirt the whole year, just putting on a jacket if it’s cold outside and a sweater if it’s cold inside and colder outside. Don’t. Wearing a jacket or any substitute – cardigan, vest, light sweater – instantly elevates you above scruffy teenager.

Obviously, a jacket is the best of all. If tailored, it can be soft and casual in cashmere or washed cotton (try Boglioli). If not, many stores now do jackets in cotton or wool jersey – Zara and Reiss do them, and Massimo Dutti is a good source for anything a little more mature in style. And at the higher end, go to Trunk Clothiers and try the aforementioned Boglioli as well as Barena and others. Hopefully the images above and below demonstrate some of the potential here.

If you were to invest in one thing, it should be a tailored or made-to-measure jacket that could go with any casual trousers. Perhaps a pale grey herringbone cashmere?

3 Buy good shoes

These don’t have to classic lace-ups. A smart pair of suede Adidas (don’t play football in them!) or leather Common Projects can be very smart. But lace-ups elevate you immediately to the level you want to play at. Buy a pair of brown lace-ups that will seem too expensive (Crockett & Jones, Grenson, Alfred Sargent), look after them, and wear them with casual trousers and even suits. If you rarely wear formal clothing, the second pair should be exactly the same, but in suede. Just as stylish, not quite as formal.

I hope that’s helpful Alex. There’s so much to say… (also consider collared shirts, including polos; most men look better in a polo or proper shirt than a T-shirt).

Hawthorne and Heaney: embroidery project

Last week I wrote about Claire Barrett of Hawthorne & Heaney, who does fine embroidery on livery, shirts and slippers for the bespoke menswear trade, as well as working with fashion designers in London.

I came to her to learn about the process and with a suggestion for a project of my own. The idea was to embroiderer something on the outside of a suit, but as subtly as possible. No initials, no bright colours, but something that added a slightly different drop of beauty to a jacket.

I’ve always identified with paisley – I think it goes back to a teenage obsession with Etro. So I picked a small, simple paisley design to be embroidered on the jacket cuff, just behind the buttons. Both the colour of the thread and the size of the bulb of the paisley deliberately mimicked the buttons, running as a fifth, rather more decorative item in the row.

Embroidery involves a lot of drawing, as I mentioned last time in regards to Henry Poole livery. Below you can also see a design for a piece down a woman’s coat. With my little paisley, Claire first traced the design onto tracing paper and then pricked it with little holes around the lines. The paper is placed on the cloth and chalk powder sprinkled on the top, producing a chalk outline to sew onto. The chalk can also be suspended in paraffin to ensure it stays on the cloth and is not rubbed off.

The tracing paper sketch also includes annotation showing which types of knot should be used where. With gold work many different knots are often used, but there are usually fewer with silk. Here there are just two: a stem stitch for the lines and French knots for the dots inside. In the event, the knots were doubled up to make them stand out more, as the grey silk was too similar to the cloth to be distinct.

The work took around 45 minutes and the result was faultless. But I’m not entirely sure whether I will repeat it. I’ve always preferred the subtlest of style and this is rather more ostentatious, even given the small size and tone-on-tone shade. In the end it was an experiment, and I think it will take time for me to know whether I like it. Perhaps the same will be done inside next time.

With thanks to Claire and team for the tea and hospitality. 

Photography: Luke Carby