This time around I did not take much footage of the looms, in fact, I don’t think I took one video at all. There comes a point where you are concerned that you are merely repeating yourself. I worry about that in relationships too. I think perhaps it is part of the psychology of the social media dystopia that pervades our world now, we are constantly in need of fresh content. That being said, I wanted today to write about what I did see on my trip. Firstly, Japan, secondly, Paris, thirdly, Como and Milan.
Japan was somewhere I had been trying to visit for many years now. I was hindered by time constraints on one occasion, Covid and visas on another. Japan become very elusive for me, so when finally I landed at Haneda I was over the moon. The morning I arrived I walked the streets of Tokyo before it had gotten out of bed and it was quiet, a lack of traffic, Shibuya was practically empty but for a few people walking to work.
One thing is for sure, I hadn’t been in Japan since 1986, so everything was brand new, everything was exciting. I did not really go for the historical stuff in Tokyo, instead I immersed myself in the train system, I went to Nakano Broadway on the hunt for a watch and finally settled on one, but not there, at the Grand Seiko boutique in Ginza where I indulged in a Credor. I had wanted to purchase a Spring Drive by Grand Seiko, I had really wanted to buy in Japan, specifically at their store in Ginza, but then Credor jumped out at me, it was so elegant, refined, so not ostentatious. So slim. Such details. I really didn’t stand a chance. Because I had purchased what my daughter called “less than real” watches last year and understood what was happening to the luxury watch market, I pretty much only want the obscure brands these days that are relatively inimitable and where there’s not enough demand for the makers of these “less than real” watches to set about cloning them. I felt that the details in Grand Seiko and Credor meant that nobody anytime soon was going to be able to reverse engineer them, and more importantly, I love Japanese arts and crafts, I love Japanese attention to detail, I have loved them for a very long time to be honest, ever since in the mid 80’s my parents bought me a top of the line Sony Walkman, it was so smart, so well designed, so avant-garde. I have never forgotten the impression it made on me.
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| buying credor watch in ginza tokyo wako boutique |
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| tailor cloth tokyo suit makers |
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| fabric store Japan |
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| snow trees hakuba |
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| ceramics kanazawa, japan |
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| kimono, kanazawa japan |
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| lamp post hakuba snow scape |
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| hakuba morning light snow country |
From Tokyo I went to Hakuba by bullet train, arriving in Nagano and taking a car to the ski village where I fell in love not more than 20 minutes into the car ride with the Japanese country side and the way snow fell on villages, and it started to snow. I was in the world of ukiyo-e - a magical place where the art of Japan and the reality of life in Japan were coming together under the giant falling flakes of snow. In Hakuba, sadly filled with too many Australians, and on that note I will say we are starting to become the new Americans when we travel, I stayed in a quiet off the beaten track part of the village, probably one kilometre from Happo One, nestled between trees and completely overrun with snow. So much so that even my taxi driver didn’t know how to negotiate it. I spent the next few days taking photos incessantly, everything was Narnia, everything was a silk scarf or at least something to conjure on. Walking home at night was tricky, the ice on the roads would cause even the surest footed a possibility of a fall. On one night I don’t remember having such a big jacket on and still feeling the cold. The wind was up, and the snow was biting at the face.
On one particular day, I think it was the 31st December to be precise, I went with a local Australian guide and he made sure I went off the back side of a mountain, his words when I was nervous as I looked down the slope was “yes mate, you are going to ski that” and so in deep snow I went down the steep slope, pushing my shins into the front of the boot and down I went and was pleasantly surprised that the heavy powder between the trees was slowing me down so it was that I was able to negotiate my way down without too much concern, though falling in such heavy powder was hard to get out of.
From Nagano I went to Kanazawa, there I spent three days hot on the pursuit of Kagayuzen silk which is particular to Kanazawa after I met on the bullet train a kimono enthusiast, a lovely woman, who pointed me in that direction.
In Kanazawa I came up with new silk designs based on the arts and crafts I saw, plus I met an extraordinary chap named Tihiro Hanaoka, who not only was a master kimono maker but also presided over a historical museum dedicated to kimonos and the work of his father, also a master kimono maker. There in his archives I found some extraordinary silks which are now on the website blended with our own.
Back in Tokyo a few days later I caught up with my customer Parker Allen who you may have seen on our Instagram. Parker is in public relations and marketing, he took me to lunch at a club in Minato, I believe it was called the Meiji Kinenkan, I was under dressed in a silk scarf and technical jacket, Parker was in a windowpane check suit and a bow tie. It was such a nice lunch, such a good chat. I considered my good fortune when I left, that over the last 17 years I had cultivated so many relationships with great customers all around the world, and that I could potentially travel the world and catch up with them - which seemed like a wonderful plan for my retirement.
When I arrived in Italy I drove in the dark to the windy narrow streets of Blevio outside of Como and I got my car stuck up a street that some other tourists had made the same error on and luckily the locals had erected a bollard up to stop tourists from going up the part that would indeed wedge you in for good. It was a terrible experience and when finally, my friends turned up to help I was relieved and somehow after half an hour I managed to get the car out. The following day it was straight into meetings, we now have over 25 factories we visit, from weavers to makers, from silk to technical garment fabrics. It is a wonderful journey across the entire province of Como, finding factories where, when passing, you would have next to no idea that behind the walled grounds lies the world’s best Garza, or the world’s best cashmere throws, the world’s best screen printers, the world’s best weavers of satin and so on. Each factory has its own speciality, so it’s important to meet all of them.
And, after the meeting is done we often rummage around the back of the factories to see what over production they have done, what ties and garments they can sell us now. For lunch we stop into some quiet street where, again, you would never know, lies a restaurant that specialises in seafood, or wild boar, or a black truffle ravioli in a white sauce. On one occasion I was taken by a loom owner to a Japanese restaurant, something I was hankering for because after a while you just want a change from Italian. We are spoiled for choice here in Sydney. We have every culture offering food, over there, by contrast, Italy is still so attached to their own cuisine.
Sometimes I wonder if we are spreading ourselves too thin with the looms. I worry that my account with some of them is too small for them to meet us. However, being Australian makes us fascinating to the weavers and printers I believe. They are curious about how it came to be that an Australian makes bow ties of distinction, or that we print such art on our scarves. Or else they want to tell me about the time they visited Australia and their experience of it.
By the time evening comes I often want to rest and read a book or watch some streaming. I am getting older you see, and, besides which, Como is not a party town and Blevio is a pain in the arse to find parking after 6pm. I often sketch in the evenings though really I have such little talent in this regard, I often look at my sketches and thank God there are artists and illustrators willing to take my designs and make them better. I wish I was more meticulous but thems the apples, I was born more likely to tell stories than to put pencil to paper. Still, you nut out ideas by writing and drawing them and it helps me to tell the designers I am working with what it is I am chasing. I like also to keep very cumbersome books to get through. I am reading a book on Stalingrad and a concurrently a book on a romance that seems to be going nowhere. Both put me to sleep for which I am eternally grateful. Then on a cold early morning a few days later we were off to Florence for Pitti Uomo, and about that you can see our Instagram which basically tells that story succinctly. I decided not to wear a suit at the last moment, I thought to myself, I am a buyer not a seller, I need wear what I would if I was going to the looms, so it was a cashmere jacket, a t shirt and a scarf, what I’d wear if I was going a day at the factories.
After a week or so I made my way to Nimes in the south of France. I had left my empty apartment for my friends to use back in Sydney. The couple, Thomas and Clementine, had been introduced to each other through me. I was on my first date with Clementine at the Fete De La Musique in Paris in 2007 when Clementine and Thomas, my friend, locked eyes on each other and my date was over. They got married in 2010 and I was at their wedding. They now had two children, and Thomas, Australian born, was returning to Oz with the family for Christmas and New Year. I had promised them that if I could I would visit them in Nimes if I was in Europe when they returned. Clementine, when I first met her, had worked for the designer Marc Newson in Paris in the 3rd. Not far off The Republic. I remember the first time I saw her I thought how French and beautiful she was. It was my birthday when I asked her out on a date. I was partying at Le Baron and accompanied by the American actor Owen Wilson, who had recently split with Kate Hudson and was in party mode. It was his first time in Paris. Incidentally, I was the first person who ever took Owen to the Brasserie Lipp and half the restaurants that are in the movie Midnight In Paris. Clementine and Thomas had decided to return to Nimes in order to raise their family more comfortably and suitably. Nimes offered space and certainly they had built a lovely home overlooking a golf course just outside of Nimes. It was really a beautiful home. I had driven from Lake Como via the port of Genoa and on to Ventimiglia, then crossed the border, going past Nice, then Marseille, arriving in Nimes in the evening and straight into town for the birthday dinner of Thomas’s and Clementine’s children at the home of Clementine’s parents. French people were dining on French food. It was such an honour to be a part of it. The next day I managed to convince Clementine to make a scarf design for us after I marvelled at the rug she had produced in her living room. She was adept in shapes and colours. Within two weeks I would receive the design and super chuffed I put it into production the same day. We went to the markets in Nimes on Saturday morning and shopped for the evening meal. I bought a blue cheese merely because it was called Papillon and we bought fresh Chantilly cream with raspberries and chestnut cream. What a meal we had that evening. Really, again, an honour to be in a French home eating French food, talking, occasionally, in French.
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| beretta store, mayfair, london |
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| blevio at night, lake como |
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| thomas heydon, clementine chambon, nimes, france |
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| mayfair london |
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| blue cheese, markets, nimes |
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| piacenza cashmere, milan showroom |
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| linen printing, lake como, italy |
The following day I drove to Paris having scheduled a lunch with Jean-Claude Colban, the owner, along with his sister Anne-Marie, of Charvet of Paris. I don’t wish to wax lyrical but I parked my car in valet at my hotel around the corner and when I entered the Place Vendôme and saw their window I was, as I wrote on my Instagram, taken aback with a mixed emotion of respect, awe, envy and regret. How was it after all these years that I had stayed put in my Studio in Vaucluse, how had I missed out on creating this lovely suite of products they offered from belts to dressing gowns, why hadn’t I created the same kind of legacy brand. I had to remind myself that they were almost 200 years old, and that, well, Paris was Paris and there was only one Place Vendome.
Lunch with Jean-Claude did not start off well. He came down in a grey suit, neck tie and cashmere scarf. I had asked upon exiting the building to take a photo with him to which he scolded me and said that I had posted a photo from the last meet that he did not approve. I was upset, I said to him that he had my email and phone number, all he had to do is tell me. We managed to get through it and lunch after that was very enjoyable. He is so smart and so knowledgeable but he doesn’t let on too much and instead, because he knows how much I admire him, he lets me talk about the struggles of my small business and I offer him every idea that’s struck me but for which I don’t have the resources to action. Everything I tell him I offer gladly, because, as I said to him, nothing would have ever come of my brand had it not been for Charvet not being online when I was first attempting to wear a hand tied bow tie. I believe the lunch ended well, certainly from my end. And I wish to remain on good terms with Jean-Claude but one never knows with the French, they are not quite the same as Australians who seem to be more direct than other cultures.
After that I met with my girlfriend the following day and we drove to Switzerland via Burgundy and Geneva to have a ski but about that I will say very little as she values her privacy more than I do. I tend to over-share, this newsletter is but an example of that. Following on from a few days in Switzerland I travelled to London, parking my car at Geneva airport. I love having a car in Europe, it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures for me. I don’t like airports and I find trains cumbersome. A car offers you a road, pit stops, the unfolding of country as you drive, reference to the cities you pass so you know for next time, Spotify and a car full of water and all the essentials like wet towels for your hands in case you get fuel or food on them. I just love driving European roads and tolls, customs and checkpoints, always have. Very Jason Bourne to my mind. We don’t get that in Australia. There is almost no cultural change between Melbourne and the Sunshine Coast.
In London I finally visited Savile Row, that content again is on our Instagram. It was joy to walk into Henry Poole and Co, to see Dege and Skinner and meet a frosty Dominic Sebag-Montefiore who turned out to be less than receptive despite following us on Instagram every day. I was met with “oh yes, we met online once” and no desire to talk further. It was one of those ‘careful should you meet your heroes’ moment. I was used to them. Sacha Baron Cohen was one of those too. Despite asking to meet me he turned out to be somewhat of an arsehole, or better still, just an arsehole. I won’t forget that experience either. I was enamoured with London, I had asked myself why I had never experienced it in this manner when all those years ago I had lived in London. But it became apparent almost immediately, I was staying in Mayfair, not Battersea, I had money now, I was poor back then. London requires money, if you don’t have it, don’t bother visiting.
When I returned to Blevio I was slightly melancholic. I was without my friend and she had been an awesome travel companion, I missed her loads so it was necessary that I focus on my work and the following day it was straight back into meetings from morning to night. The good thing about cloth and looms is it rarely bores me and now I was also on the hunt for another two labels who had asked me to research cloth for them, this time for more technical fabrics in polymer. I was chasing things like outer shell fabric for ski jackets and sportswear apparel cloth. It was fun and exciting. In between there were more silk mills. I don’t mention them by name of course, I have always and will always attempt to conceal who I really deal with. Mostly because my competitors love to follow me on Instagram and read my newsletters. One is probably reading this passage right now. Hello I say to you, and no I am not going to spill the beans. The simple fact is I have worked hard to meet all these wonderful people and I have cultivated good relations with them based on goodwill and respect. I started 15 years ago with a small rental car and a Tom Tom, now I had a driver with an electric car and sophisticated navigation.
I rounded out my trip with a few more trips to some new looms, a day in Milan for a trade fair for fabrics, and finally, a trip to Brunate on my final day to give a small piece to camera on my experience of Italy and of Lake Como for this trip. In essence I said that the Italians had eaten a lot of pain, the consolidation of looms, a shrinking business for silks in neck ties and what not. Some had taken haircuts on salary, some had had to leave the business altogether, revenues had been consolidated and margins shrunk, but the Italians still produced the best silk and cashmere in the world, there was no doubt in my mind, and between technology and creativity I did not see the Chinese catching up anytime soon. That being said, with each passing year the Chinese were getting better and better at becoming the world’s manufacturing hub, and much of the cloth that gets produced in Italy ends up in Chinese factories. There was no denying the role they now played. On my trip home I contemplated the last two years of our own business, the need to core down on things, the lack of frivolity and fun that came from having spare cash to play with. I was still the best in the world at what I did in terms of bow ties, I had no doubt in that after running my hands across all my competitors’ products in Milan, Paris and London. But there was no guarantee that I could sustain and maintain that moniker in the future. More importantly, with each passing year the relevancy of my pursuits in the world of neckwear became less and less. Eventually, I supposed, I would become old and irrelevant. More importantly I had no real plan other than to refine my craft and offering. The only desire that I had was to find new products I could seduce customers with, and they needed to be packed into small satchels. I had no desire to become another suit company making in China, nor someone who merely took product from Ali Baba and labelled it before selling it on. I wanted, and always wanted, to have something that I put my hands to first, there had to be my input into it otherwise what was the point.
Thank you for listening (reading). I hope I did not bore you.
