Harris Tweed is Scottish heritage with a twist

Driving along a winding single-track road, the steely grey of the Forth on one side, indeterminate bracken on the other and an angry, glowering sky overhead, it’s one of those days made for the word dreich: dull, drizzly, cold, miserable.

Then, through the rain-spattered windscreen, a grand 18th-century manor comes into view. All manicured lawns and elegant architecture, it brings to mind Elizabeth Bennet’s account of her first sight of Pemberley.

Maybe it’s just a feeble attempt at romanticising what is otherwise a thoroughly vile day, but somehow it seems fitting; the perfect setting to explore the versatile beauty of Harris Tweed. As for the rain, this is one fabric that can take pretty much anything the Scottish weather cares to throws at it.

The period backdrop is deliberate: when the house was built, this warm, hard-wearing cloth, hand-made by skilled weavers in the Western Isles, would have been all the rage, says Mark Hogarth, the model-turned-creative-director of Harris Tweed Hebrides. But if you’re expecting stuffy hunting tweeds, plus fours and “tally-ho, old chap, don’t spare the horses”, you’ll be disappointed. For hanging on rails in one of Hopetoun’s anterooms – alongside centuries-old tapestries, family portraits and an open fire that could roast a whole cow – are lush military-style coats by Margaret Howell in shades of grey that echo the sky outside, classic suiting from Brooks Brothers and tailored dresses with nipped-in waists in zingy tangerine, by Joyce Paton. Elsewhere are funky tweed high-tops by Jaggy Nettle, elegant jackets by Judy R Clark that combine tweed with Moroccan silks and vintage lace, and a not-for-wallflowers poncho by APC in a bright orange and navy check.

Beautiful girls brave the elements – and the cobbles – in sky-high heels and frocks that are definitely more catwalk than crofter chic, and dashing gents with a dangerous glint in their eyes swagger on the steps wearing brightly coloured jeans with waistcoats and jaunty tailored jackets.

Today’s fashion shoot is about bringing together the various designers who use Harris Tweed and putting them in a period setting but bringing the whole shebang right up to date. Not that the fashion industry needs told. Harris Tweed is already beloved by designers from Chanel and Celine to Alexander McQueen, Nike and Thomas Pink. Adding to the folklore is Vivienne Westwood’s logo, which bears a striking resemblance to the Harris Tweed orb.

Indeed, the fashion set love nothing better than a trip out of their comfort zone of Savile Row or Rue Saint-Honoré up to the wilds of the Outer Hebrides – as long as they can escape back to ‘civilisation’ in a hurry. “A guy from Yves Saint Laurent came last year,” says Hogarth. “He came up in one day, got the connection to Stornoway, got the taxi over to the mill, bundled the cloth into the taxi, took the same taxi back to the airport, the same plane back down to London and the fabric was on the cutting room floor the next morning.”

It may be a slightly shorter journey for the team at Jaggy Nettle – who are based in Lauder, Berwickshire – and you may not see the results on the cover of French Vogue any time soon, but the collaboration is no less important to both parties. “We started our company working with Harris Tweed, and it was the footwear that really launched us,” says the label’s Jason Lee. “Our customers like that we use these traditional heritage fabrics but we try to give it a bit of a twist. A lot of what we do has a narrative and a story to tell. It’s more than just a garment.”

But while couture is feeling the love, it counts for nothing without the heart and soul of the brand – the weavers. “When people are paying £20 a metre for a piece of fabric, they know it’s because it’s hand-woven, because it can only be made in the Outer Hebrides by a skilled weaver using virgin wool,” says Hogarth. “Once you get all these things across, you justify the price point and you also give the end user a little bit extra to put on their tagline.

“We can never mass-produce,” he adds. “For me, that’s the creative genius of it. This is a finite product. There are only 110 weavers – it might go up to 120 – but it’s a long process with a lot involved in training people up to a standard where they can weave for someone like Margaret Howell.

“One of the great things about Harris Tweed is that it is not a profit-driven organisation. We’re very fortunate in that our owner wants it to be profitable but he is also genuinely concerned about the ethics of the business. He’s concerned about the ageing demographic of the weavers and has introduced training courses and investment into the hardware.”

But in these difficult times, there is no room for complacency. Heritage brands like Mulberry and Burberry may be reporting record profits, but others, such as Aquascutum, are not immune to disaster. And it’s not that long ago that rumours were circulating of Harris Tweed’s imminent demise. “The States were by far the biggest market for a long time, but they were also instrumental in the demise of Harris Tweed. It started selling to the mass market, so all the mills were competing on price. The price of the product went down.

“The end product was a boxy, what I would call waspy, jacket, worn by people who are not particularly aspirational when it comes to fashion.”

These days a major growth area is Japan – “they go crazy for it” – while Korea is also going well. “There’s a real appreciation for the product and the provenance of it there.” New York, too, is beginning to gather steam, with Brooks Brothers and Saks at the more traditional end, and the likes of British designer Simon Spurr (formerly of Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren) and the über-cool Rag and Bone at the cutting-edge. “There’s a quid pro quo,” says Hogarth. “We are only as good as the designers who use us, so this shoot is a chance for us to look good.”

He points to the stonework and colonnades at Hopetoun – and the rain still bouncing off the gravel pathways – and adds, “Harris Tweed traditionally would be worn as outerwear, so we have to be true to that. Having said that, going back 30 or 40 years, central heating wasn’t ubiquitous so Harris Tweed was worn indoors as well, to keep the old heating bills down.”

Practicality continues to be a consideration, perhaps explaining summer’s big fashion story – waistcoats. “They’re taking off big time,” says Hogarth. “In temperate countries like Britain – New York’s the same – where it’s warm one minute, cold the next, the waistcoat offers that extra layer. They are really making an impression this season and will be a major part of the autumn/winter calendar.”

But with the price of wool going up, an increase in the price of the fabric is inevitable. “I still think Harris Tweed is cheap,” insists Hogarth. “It wasn’t until I’d had a good few trips to the islands to see what goes into it that I realised this is a luxury fabric. It may not be a luxury fabric in terms of touch, but it definitely is in terms of the process that’s involved. And in fashion, the focus has gone back on quality of fabric. How can you justify £300 or £400 or £500 for a jacket? You can’t. You have to have that provenance.”

There can be no doubt Harris Tweed Hebrides is one of Scotland’s biggest fashion success stories, so its nods at the last three Scottish Fashion Awards have been well-earned recognition of that. This year, though, the brand is not even nominated. Disappointed? “Not at all,” says Hogarth. “I’m pleased actually. I deliberately didn’t put anything in – 2009 was a big surprise, then last year we were favourites and we did win. I’m a big fan of Scottish textiles so the idea of us picking up every single fashion award gets dull. We’ll happily bow out.

“David Ogilvy, the king of Madison Avenue advertising, says no brand is strong enough to stand still. That’s the same with Harris Tweed. We have to continue to do new things. It’s about being sincere to your clients but also having that ability to innovate.”