Harris tweed is high fashion

Press, 27 January 1988, Page 13

Harris tweed is high fashion

Once saddled with an almost comic reputation for being hairy, itchy and staid, Harris tweed has suddenly come in from the Outer Hebrides bathed in the glow of a newfound trendiness. The very name of the stuff may conjure up visions of Margaret Rutherford, Alistair Sim and a thoroughly British, pipesmoking kind of eccentricity, but those associations are by no means to be despised. In these days of adulation of all things traditional, mythology is hot currency, and Harris tweed has it in rich reserves.

Vivienne Westwood, Ally Capellino and Arabella Pollen span the spectrum of British fashion from avant-garde through countrified to city-elegant, yet all have hit on Harris tweed as right for the season. Alison Lloyd puts her finger on its special qualities: “We were inspired by lovely old men’s Harris

tweed jackets: the spirit was right for the traditional thing we were doing, both for men and women. The whole story makes it so romantic, the way Harris tweed is still made by crofters on their looms at home. We went up to see how it’s done — everyone was so friendly and warm, and invited us in for tea and drop scones.” Harris tweed, with its own special, delicious smell, has been handwoven on the Isle of Harris and Lewis (confusingly the two names refer to the one place) for at least 150 .years. It was first commercially exploited by Lady Dunmore, wife of the local landowner, who introduced the stuff to the huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ gentry of the mid-nineteenth century. It’s been a staple of upper-middle-class country wardrobe ever since, inhabiting that niche that has, until now, remained invulnerable to the flighty

advances of fashion. The revival of interest in Harris tweed has come about through a conjunction of designer instinct and the promotional efforts of the Harris Tweed Association. Last British Fashion Week, the association took the admirably brave decision to sponsor Vivienne Westwood’s catwalk show, a PR coup that had the world’s press enthusing in the same breath about both the upturn in Westwood’s. reputation and the delightful qualities of the material she used. For Westwood, the appeal, on the technical side, lay in the colour of the fabric. “It gave me a buzz, the way the fibres vibrate in the material. It’s not flat, but natural and alive, like the shading in the petal of a flower.” On the level of ideas, Harris tweed was a perfectly apposite choice for the theme of her collection, which cheekily plundered the vocabulary

Forget the image of itchy British eccentricity; SARAH MOWER reports that Harris tweed’s mythology is hot currency with young designers.

of royal dressing for antifashion inspiration. But the Harris Tweed Association isn’t resting on its laurels. This week it’s staging shows in Tokyo and Osaka with a collection specially commissioned from young “directional” designers, for, as has alreadv been proved by the exporters of cashmere, Burberrys and other classics, the Japanese have an insatiable hunger for British quality and tradition. Inimitable authenticity is an ace selling-point in Harris tweed’s favour, for no foreign textile industry, however advanced and hitech, could hope to reproduce it. How could they? The mystery lies in the lichens that make the dyes and on the backs of hardy Hebridean sheep. The 700 weavers of Harris and. Lewis may yet have cause to celebrate the dawning of a new Far Eastern success. Copyright — “Observer”.