When did you last bump into the words ‘Made in Britain’ on a jumper, shirt or pair of trousers? There’s a chance, if you’re under 40, that you’ve never actually seen those words printed in an item of clothing – ever. And that’s quite a problem, particularly when you consider that we find ourselves in an era when the Prime Minister’s favourite two words are ‘national resilience’.
The simple fact is that when it comes to clothes we aren’t resilient. In fact quite the reverse: in the past year Britain imported something like £15 billion-worth of textiles and clothing (compared with clothing exports of around £3 billion). So in addition to ensuring supply of enough ‘weapons’ – the subs, frigates, Typhoons, tanks and the military personnel to fill those ‘boots on the ground’ – or producing enough foodstuffs (not least carrots because nothing helps you spot a Russian hypersonic missile in the dead of night better than a couple of those every day), we desperately need to make our own clothes. And we should all start by buying a British jumper or two.
Yes, it’s a small thing, but in a world where around 70 per cent of textiles in Europe come from factories in China, Bangladesh and Turkey, or where Britons alone spends something like £2 billion a year on Chinese-made knitwear, you have to begin somewhere. Because what would happen if, heaven forbid, the super-tankers stopped coming? What if another giant fishbone got stuck in the gullet of the world’s supply chain (aka the Suez Canal) or, worse, what if there were a war – a really big one? What happens when the constant stream of cheap garments dries up? Well, we know the answer: we’d be left high and dry.
Even ignoring that possibility or the questionable economics of paying foreigners for doing something that we should and could do ourselves, what about the need to support our own cultural and social fabric – so to speak? This, after all, is the land of the Spinning Jenny, not to mention sheep farms as far as the eye can see. So as the government sees sense and begins to invest in our military infrastructure, why don’t we each do our bit for national resilience by buying a British pullover?
I’m not suggesting that we cut off the hardworking textile workers in Pakistan or Vietnam, but let us restore some balance and at least do something to support our home-grown industry before it vanishes for good. It needn’t be very expensive: take, for instance, the finely woven jumper I got from a brand called Slaith, made in a village outside Huddersfield in West Yorkshire by the family-owned Spectrum Yarns. One of these will set you back £110, so perhaps two or two and half times the price of the Marks and Sparks version – but I predict that my navy crew-collar pullover will last at least twice, possibly three or four times as long. And I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that the entirety of my dosh went to supporting British workers, capitalists and GDP. Actually, my guess is that the jumper will do five years at least before the moths get to it (they’re very greedy around these parts), meaning it’s snip at £22 a year. At that price it’s basically fast fashion – but without the egregious environmental waste and whiff of unthinking decadence.
We need to support our cultural and social fabric, so to speak. This, after all, is the land of the Spinning Jenny, not to mention sheep farms as far as the eye can see
Look around and you’ll see that there are quite a few firms in Britain making relatively affordable, high-quality jumpers. Take Jamieson’s of Shetland (which also uses Shetland wool), where prices start at £112 for a sweater that looks marvellous and you know will keep out the chill better and far longer than one of the flimsy articles sold by a budget high-street shop. Likewise, with a similar price point, there’s Harley of Scotland in Peterhead, Aberdeenshire, where they’ve been making some of the finest jumpers the world has seen since 1929. Or you could pop into Cordings on Piccadilly and find a variety of sweaters made on these shores all at the same price mark.
Moving up the price register you can head to Derbyshire, where John Smedley makes – in their own words – ‘the world’s finest knitwear’. Prices of their wool jumpers kick off at the £210 mark, but they are the Rolls-Royce of the knitwear world and they will stand the test of time so long as you keep refreshing the mothballs. At the decidedly luxury end of the market you’ve also got Johnstons of Elgin or Private White VC (‘Made in Manchester, from sheep to shop’ it declares on its website) where knitwear will set you back £400-plus but, again, it’s all proudly made in GB.
There are, in short, plenty of options for a patriotic knitwear buyer. And why not? If each us bought just one jumper from a UK manufacturer this year it would add hundreds of millions in revenue to these firms, enabling them to invest in equipment and skills for the future. What’s more we’d be backing Britain and British workers – and seriously increasing the tax take, too, perhaps even by enough for the government to order another Typhoon, or a few more Challenger 3 tanks. Heaven alone knows we need them.
Spring may be in the air, but let’s face it, we won’t be packing away our layers anytime soon. So let’s do our bit for the British textiles industry in 2025 – and give our moths something decent to chew on. Let’s treat ourselves – and our children – to British knits. It’s the best you’ll find anywhere in the world and if we don’t use it, we’ll lose it.
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