Standard trouser in woollen hopsack in black

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Trousers, with a leg of middling width, made in London with a thick and heavy (26oz) merino woollen hopsack from West Yorkshire, and with horn and brass components from the Midlands.


If in doubt with sizing, ignore what your current trousers say they are, and measure them instead. Lay them flat, and run a tape-measure from one side of the waistband to the other, then double it. That's your size (not to be confused with your own physical waist size).

Waist 30 32 34 36 38
Front rise 13 13½ 14 14½ 15
Back rise 14¾ 15 15½ 16 16½
Thigh 12¾ 13 13½ 14 14½
Knee 9 10 10½
Hem 8
Inside leg 32 32 32 32 32

The leg may be lengthened by 1½ inches by letting down the hem — taking the total to 33½.

The trousers here are standard only in name and in the fact they have a straight leg of fairly standard width. Other than that, they are quite unusual — being tremendously sturdy and traditionally cut, and with plenty of rise in the seat so that sitting down is only ever a pull and stretch and drag-free endeavour.
The trousers have a single pleat on each side at the front, giving things a little more shape up top. It is fixed in place, a short way down from the waistband, with a small horizontal tack.
The trousers fasten with a buckle at the side. The waistband keeps going, past the fly, and meets the buckle, attached to a small tab on the right side as worn. Works like a belt, gives a clean look at the front, and means you can adjust the size should you shrink or grow over the course of the day or week or year.
The trousers have quarter-top pockets, which are deep and satisfying to plunge hands into. Inside — not that you can see — they are finished in a clean and tidy way. On the right side as worn, meanwhile, resides a little pocket — for a coin or two, keys, or a thumb — which is built into the waistband (below).
At the back, meanwhile, is another pocket, on the right cheek as worn.
The buttons on the trouser are real horn, dark in colour and matte in finish. The trouser has a button fly of three such buttons, as well as two others, which fasten the fly-guard and the front of the trouser before the belt is whipped across.
Heavy, turned seams can be found down the outside leg. Their presence here means you'd have to do something very dramatic — acrobatic, perhaps — for them to ever wear through.
The trousers are lined to the knee, front and back, with a light, slinky satin. The way this lining is constructed makes the trousers as clean and tidy when turned inside-out as outside-out. The presence of this lining makes it easy — nay, downright pleasurable — to slide one's legs up and down and all around.
Hefty cloth, this — reaching its weight with great density and almost as great thickness — and with the pleasing bobbly texture of a hopsack weave. It is made with two-ply merino yarn. Very supple, but with top-grade technical performance — especially in tensile-strength and abrasion-resistance.

As worn

The gent here has a waist of 33" — an awkward size, but here he is wearing a size M, and with the belt tightened at the back. And it's a fair cop: these are the slim trousers, not the standards. They're almost identical, but these taper more from the knee to the ankle.

Makers of

The trousers are made in London by a factory which — since they are so sturdily built, particularly at the seams — specialises in heavy outerwear. Making them, in fact, can be a gruelling task, entailing as it does umpteen more stages than most trousers — at least five of which demand a hammer.
Local production — this cloth is an exemplar of it. The wool which goes into the worsted comes from the backs of white-face Cheviot sheep in North Yorkshire, and is spun, washed, and woven at textile facilities, all within a small radius around the boundary North and West Yorkshire.
The brass hardware is made by a foundry in the West Midlands, which was founded in the 1800s. It is the last such foundry in an area once heaving with them. Its sand-casting method — which sees 940°c molten brass poured by hand from a crucible into sand-made moulds — is ancient and infallible.
The horn buttons were cut, shaped, and polished by the last such factory in Britain (now defunct). It was part of a tradition in the Midlands first linked to the meat industry of the 18th century. "It is no easy task," said William Hutton in 1780, "to enumerate the infinite diversity of buttons made in Birmingham."

So they say

The standard trousers arrived today. Man o' man — how in the world did you manage to surpass even my most wildest of expectations? Your obvious reverence for craftsmanship in addition to the care you gave me before, during, and after the purchase will always be remembered when I spring for additional purchases in the near future.

Standard trousers made in high-count cotton are what this man was describing in May 2016.

Thanks for the standard trousers that I received on Monday. They look great. Admittedly, they do make the rest of my wardrobe look like cheap tat, but that just means I'll have to buy lots more nice clothes from you guys in future.

So said a man who bought the trouser in Shetland woollen in February of 2015.

Thank you for the delivery of the standard trousers [and shirt]. I deeply appreciate the thought and effort that goes into creating the garments. I look forward to being a customer of S.E.H Kelly for many more years to come.

Words from a gent who bought the standard trouser in high-count cotton in October 2015.

Very nice [standard] trouser, nice fabric. I very much appreciate your idea of garments lasting longer than a season, hence I completely agree with your non-sale policy.

This chap bought some standard trousers in cotton in January 2017.

I received my standard trousers yesterday, and I am very happy, as I have been wearing them throughout the day today. Both the fit and the colour are truly beautiful, and it is a pride to wear them here in the cold Norwegian winter.

Comments courtesy of a gent who bought the trouser in a Shetland woollen in early 2015.

I just wanted to "review" the heavy woollen hopsack black trouser. The material is really something: the first time I've seen such a trouser with that quality and weight of fabric. Such a unique cloth. I hope they will last a whole life time and even, perhaps, be bequeathed to the next generation.

So spoke a man who picked up the standard trousers in the heaviest of hopsack woollens in black in March 2020.