Think of British cashmere, andone might contemplate aromanticised weaving mill nestled in the verdant valleys ofthe Yorkshire Dales, its handful of looms manned by someone’s grandmother, and perhaps powered by awooden water wheel. One probably wouldn’t picture a glossy mill on an industrial estate in Batley, a suburban town near Leeds in the north of England.
Here resides Joshua Ellis, a 254-year-old cashmere company and one of the oldest and last-surviving weavers in the UK; it moved into this shiny space in 2004.Inside, a rhythmic hum reverberates; looms clank and clatter as strands of superfine yarn are spun into fabric for brands such as Ralph Lauren, Louis Vuittonand Celine. Some are creating monogrammed intarsia patterns; others oversized checks. “This is where the magic happens,” saysOliver Platts, managing director of thefamily-owned mill.
This month, Joshua Ellis launches its bespoke service in a bid to broaden its client base. For around £3,000, customers can make 7m of their very own cashmere fabric from scratch, choosing the yarns, colours, pattern and wool weight. “We’re basically saying, ‘Come and be your own creative director,’” says Platts. “We can make a blanket with your face on it if you want. It’sbasically the same experience that theluxury labels get from us.”
The overall aim, Platts says, is to future-proof the business in a globally competitive, post-Brexit market. Plus, the cashmere market is increasingly saturated with new brands offering a cosmopolitan take on cosy staples. To stay relevant, heritage mills in the UK need to adapt.
Others are diversifying too. This season, Begg x Co launches its first 15-piece womenswear collection of knits, while the Chanel-owned Barrie, situated in the Scottish borders, offers cashmere-mix denim shirts and bucket hats through its own in-house line – a marriage of age-old manufacturing and modern aesthetics. “We’re not all about castles and golf courses and shortbread,” says Ian Laird, chief executive of Begg x Co. “We’re proudof our heritage but we can’t live inthe past. Too many backwards-looking brands and factories just die.”
We’re proudof our heritage but we can’t live inthe past. Too many backwards-looking brands and factories just die”
Indeed. “In 1993, there were 12,000 people employed in knitwear within a 25-mile radius,” says Clive Brown, commercial anddevelopment director atBarrie. Manufacturing was gradually offshored as brands chased profit and cheaper costs; factories were shuttered. Chanel, a longtime Barrie client, bought the mill in 2012 after its then-owner went into administration. Today, 265 of the 1,000 people employed bymills in Scotland workfor Barrie. “The local economy would suffer terribly if we shut,” says Brown. “We’re trying to put a foundation in place for the next 30 years… we’ve got to do things that are really special.” Begg, too, bought another Scottish factory on the brink of closure last year.
Sartorial romantics will enjoy the much-told tales of what makes British cashmere special. It’s washed in crystal-clear waters from the lochs and streams, which gives it a next-level snugness. “Wedon’t haveto add chemical softener,” says Brown.The Brits also knit the cloth tighter, which means it keeps its shape andpills less.Sodivine is it, in fact, thatBegg’s creativedirector Lorraine Acornley decided to create a largely undyed collection. “It’s just cashmere in itsmost natural state,” she says.
Ancient machinery helps. In Joshua Ellis’s factory, a tumble dryer-type milling box made of oak softens the cashmere afterwashing; it looks more like a piece ofsmart midcentury furniture than an industrial machine. “It’s 75 years old and they don’t make them any more,” says Platts. “You can’t replicate these techniques with modern equipment.”
So far, so traditional, right? Not exactly.“Our guys are overwriting software with their ownknitting programmes to make the machinesdo things completely differently,” says Brown. Barrie’s small team of programmers is3D-knitting garments in ways“never donebefore”. Experimentation is key. “It pushes us to trynew techniques,” says Brown. “Ifitdoesn’t work for Barrie, it’s not the end ofthe world. If it doesn’t work for oneofour couture brands, it’d be a disaster.” Oncethey’ve mastered new methods, they’ll pass some of them on toChanel etal.“The Barrie brand is a shopwindow so people can see what wecan actually do,”he says.
This playfulness is resonating with a younger audience. Begg’s technicolour blanket collaboration with British artist John Booth proved the ideal #interiors fodder, while the Barrie brand is now stocked at Flannels, the British retailer that meshes streetwear with luxury. Sales of its oversized colour-blocked denim jackets, which look like something the members of Destiny’s Child might have owned and take 12 hours toknit, are strong. So too are its branded T-shirts – surprising for a cashmere mill. Butin the Instagram era, the Barrie logo demonstrates an air of knowing, and making inroads with this discerning demographic is crucial. “People wear sweatshirts more than sweaters now,” says Brown.
People are also more environmentally aware: the traceability of in-house craftsmanship rather than third-party supply chains is a draw. Barrie is Scotland’s first Global Organic Textiles Standards-certified mill, while Begg tracks itsown carbon impact through annual sustainability reports. “Provenance is so important as the younger generation, tomorrow’s consumers, are much more conscious,” says Platts. “We dye and spin all our yarns within a 10-mile radius, our wastewater is treated properly and we don’tuse hazardous dyes.” The mill sources its wool directly from farmers, which cuts out middle-men margins andensures fair wages.
Social responsibility is fundamental. Companies that prioritise people and the planet as much as profits are increasingly where the younger demographic will spend,according to Deloitte. Its 2021 surveyof the impact of Covid-19 among millennials and Gen Z found global wealth inequality is their fourth ranked concern, with the climate taking priority; almost onein five have boycotted companies whoseactions conflict with their values. “We pay everyone a living wage and we don’t use underage labour across our supplychain,” says Platts.
This consolidation is perhaps best exemplified by a single scarf that dangles from a hanger in Joshua Ellis’s meeting room. Charcoal grey with tasselled edges, it’s emblazoned in capital letters with thephrase “Human Rights” – the mill crafted it for New York menswear label Noah, launched by former Supreme creative director Brendon Babenzian. “These two words, woven into a piece ofclothing, are like a light shining in the darkness,” said the brand upon its release. “It’s a banner and reminder of thissimple, human principle, in times whenit is beingcallously ignored.” Cool,conscious cashmere as a meansofcommunication – it’s a far cry from castles and shortbread. The question now is, what does your knit say aboutyou?
