Search Results for: simpson london

One of the things you notice when you start paying attention to leather goods is that some of the world’s best makers come from countries with long saddlery traditions (that is, the art of making leather goods for horse riding). Hermes, for example, started as a harness and bridle rein workshop in the Grands Boulevards quarter of Paris. And today, many former saddlers – as well as people trained by former saddlers – work in the French city to produce leather accessories for men. 

Similarly, most of the top-end English makers specialize in working with bridle leather. Bridle, for those unfamiliar, is one of the three main materials in saddlery – saddle and harness leather being the other two. The difference between them is in the finishing. Saddle leather is left “raw,” which means it has little oil or wax content. That makes it relatively dry and stiff, as well as susceptible to water stains. Harness leather has a bit more oil and wax, as well as a smoother grain. The dressiest of the three, however, is bridle. It’s the smoothest and most polished, with a high oil and wax content that blooms to the surface, giving the leather a beautiful luster. Of all the dress leathers out there, it’s also the most durable. Figure it this way: if bridle leather was originally created to secure a horse rider’s life, it’s probably good enough to hold your laptop. 

One of my favorite companies for bridle leather goods is Simpson, which might be the youngest label to have a 150+ year old history. As the story goes, it was started in 1997 by Robert Simpson, a member of the Krolle family. The Krolles were behind Tanner Krolle, one of England’s oldest and most famous leather goods companies, having been around since 1856. When Chanel bought Tanner Krolle in the ‘90s, however, Robert left and took a few TK employees with him. Together, they started a new leather goods manufacturing house called RBJ Simpson (otherwise known as Simpson London).

I’ve always thought clothing should be written about like food, rather than technical equipment – less stitch count, more mouthfeel. A few weeks ago, I was having drinks with a friend, who was telling me about a dinner he had at a local Michelin star restaurant. A multi-course meal there runs $750 per person. Or in his case, $1,500 for him and his wife. On the menu? Avocado toast, supposedly the reason why Millennials can’t afford to buy homes (OK, maybe true here). 

“So, how was the toast?,” I asked. My friend shrugged. “Pretty damn good – the best I’ve had. But, you know, it’s avocado toast.”

That’s about the best I can come up with for Marol’s new collaborative shirts with Bruce Boyer, which cost a dizzying $585. Marol is an old, Italian shirt factory based on Bologna, having started in the late 1950s. Recently, the company was sold to new owners, as the current owners don’t have someone in the family for succession (as would be typical in Italian businesses). For much of their history, Marol made their way by producing private-label, finely tailored shirts for top-end companies. Under their new management, however, they’re starting to branch out and develop their own brand. 

One of my favorite purchases last year was a custom-made, black boxcalf folio I commissioned from Chester Mox. I’ve written about the company a dozen times before, but they’re one of my favorite makers. Bellanie, the woman behind the husband-and-wife team, graduated a few years ago from an apprenticeship she took with a former Hermes artisan. Her work today is comparable to the best I’ve seen anywhere – including Hermes – but is sold at a fraction of the price. 

The quality is all in the stitching. Machine-sewn leather goods have straight stitches, such that each stitch sits perfectly in-line with the next. Handsewn leather goods, on the other hand, are made with what’s known as a saddle-stitch. That’s when two needles pass through the same hole, either with an awl first piercing that hole and guiding a needle through, or with the holes punched by hand using a pricking iron. The technique is laborious, but it results in a stronger seam. Whereas machine-sewn seams can unravel if one stitch breaks, saddle-sewn seams have to be picked apart using a special tool. 

Frankly, I mostly like them for aesthetic reasons. Machine-sewn seams have visible holes in-between each stitch, but saddle-sewn seams look clean and tight. For people who appreciate craft, the work is beautiful in its own right.