Linen again — this time linen woven in Ireland into an intricate herringbone pattern. Crisp on leaving the mill, it has since been washed, softened, crumpled a little, and then made into a summer-time raglan mac, itself exact in many respects, and in others easy-going.
It is a truism of linenism that all linens are not created equal. Raw material is the first determinant, a crucial one, in the quality of the finished cloth. The second is design and make: since linen-making is near the top-end of the labour-needed-to-make-it scale, the best stuff is a product of technique and expertise tried, tested, and mastered over decades.
The linen here is a top-quality herringbone-patterned linen. A tight, crisp, weave of off-white and either pale-green or oatmeal-coloured yarn, with the occasional slub — knot in the yarn — reflecting its two-steps-from-nature nature. It's the sort of characterful cloth which makes for a good starting point — especially in summer. It is breathable, lightweight, and, irrespective of wearer, somehow able to keep its cool no matter the climate. The cloth has been giving a once-over in the wash, so assuming a crumpled and pleasingly malleable quality, and will also become softer and softer the more it is washed.
The mac is of the mid-thigh length, raglan-sleeved variety. Plenty of room in the upper body, with arms that steadily taper to a narrow cuff. It's an unstructured, relaxed-looking and -fitting garment, and balanced such that as little weight or pressure as possible is placed on the shoulder. Buttoned-up, it assumes a typical collar-down mac-like appearance, with a hidden, inset placket of a half-dozen corozo buttons. Undone, the cloth's pliable nature sees the lapel open out, assuming a blazer-like appearance, while very light fusing lends just enough rigidity to the collar for it to be put up and to stay up.
Pale-green and oatmeal start proceedings. No more than a handful of each have been made. They're here and here, and also in the workshop on Boundary Street, from today.
