S.E.H Kelly

Back again in heavy cord from Lancashire is the work jacket. And boy does it work. Works overtime. Body-spanning pockets, custom-made horn butchers buttons, under-arm ventilation whatjamajigs, complicated gusset cuffs — nothing puts in hours quite it. More

Greater than the sum of its parts, the duffle. Eight lengths of rope, four toggles — hand-turned horn ones, naturally — and about three metres of very heavy melton is all that goes into it. But that all-enveloping sense of wearing a blanket — can't measure that. More

The peacoat comes but once a year — and usually leaves again soon after. It is made, this time around, with heavy uniform melton from West Yorkshire, which is so thick and so heavy it would be quite terrifying were it not, at the same time, so soft and lustrous. More

This is the parka minor. Its name is relative to its all-enveloping older brother, but is somewhat misleading all the same — what with it being a coat of considerable proportions and packed to the gills with all sorts of old-school technical features and functions. More

They call this cloth "tropical" for a reason — and not just because it comes from North Yorkshire. It is, rather, because it is a lightweight cloth, with a plain and aeration-aiding weave, and made with high-twist yarn that doesn't wrinkle or cling to the skin. More

The three-ply cotton tuck-stitch of the new polo shirt, here, is so slinky it can travel down a flight of steps end-over-end, as it stretches and re-forms itself with the aid of gravity and its own momentum. It is hand-framed in a bucolic south-west corner of the British Isles. More

Those ripples running along the banks of the seam there? Those, in knitwear lingo, are fashionings, and they are a tell-tale sign of fully fashioned knitwear. And that, in itself, is a tell-tale sign of knitwear above the run of the mill in shape, fit, and construction. More

This cotton from a coastal region of Scotland — here in the form of a field shirt — is thick and starchy and rigid, which aren't usually the most flattering of adjectives, but which at the workshop are venerated in the dogged pursuit of faintly preposterous outerwear. More

This will be cotton airweave, then, resurrected by an old mill in the eastern outskirts of Lancashire. It was favoured by the British Army for a chunk of the last century, and is hard-wearing yet breathable — and by all accounts scrubs up nicely as an SB3, too. More

This cotton from Scotland — here in the form of a waistcoat and field shirt — is thick, starchy, and rigid, which are not usually the most flattering of adjectives, but which at the workshop are venerated in the dogged pursuit of faintly preposterous outerwear. More

Funny thing about the weatherproof ripstop from which this trench is made is that, despite being twice as tough as old boots — being a double-layer ripstop of the toughest fibres around — it is also light and airy and comfortable in even the most sticky climes. More

The new field jacket, here, with its convention-busting back-to-front construction and breezy cotton airweave fabrication is resolutely, absolutely, a very casual thing — but worn with the right posture and comportment, it also has the mildest whiff of imperious. More

"Your sleeve seam's connected to your front body seam. Your front body seam's connected to your chest pocket. Your chest pocket's connected to your drawstring ..." You get the idea. Welcome to the joined-up world of the new field jacket, making its debut here in cotton airweave. More

This hat is made in the crucible of English hat-making, and unlike most such hats, which are blocked with great amounts of steam into a fixed style, this one is not, so may be poked or prodded into a new shape — Homburg! Bowler! Trilby! — every day of the week. More

It's a donkey jacket — but not as we know it. Respectful of the age-old workwear classic rather than deferent, this is a spring-time jacket with a whole-cut upper body, more pockets than you might expect, and a tonal combination of cottons canvas and dry-wax. More

The proper trouser, with its high rise and full leg, is the opposite — aesthetically, technically, and morally — to an improper trouser. Here it is in a tropical worsted, woven in Yorkshire using the wool of sheep reared and sheared in the same part of the world. More

The field coat is technical, sure, and full of features, but it never tries to impose itself upon its wearer. Like a well-mannered butler, rather, it is ready and able to serve when called upon, but is most of the time quiet, modest, and expert at minding its own business. More

There's more going on with this cardigan than with most cardigans. The pockets, for instance. Indecently whopping. And those seam-spanning pockets. The split-sleeve, too, with its thick tuck-stitched under-sleeve safeguarding against threadbare elbows. More

The field coat is coat for the great outdoors, but rather than striving for specificity — a coat for cycling, say, or urban gardening, or stalking grouse — it is a merry generalist, whose design coalesces around the gentle ambition of going out and about once in a while. More

Chilly now, isn't it? Thankfully, though, there's a little workshop in the dank environs of east London for which cold-proof wearables are a self-proclaimed speciality — a place now to the gills packed with woollens, waterproofs, and sundry other winter-warmers. More