Leicestershire's textile industry is seeing a renaissance, which also means new jobs. Business Reporter Isobel Frodsham finds out more
The county's textiles industry is famous thanks to names like Nathaniel Corah & Sons, Cherub, Symington's and Pick's. They were once kings of British manufacturing but were forced to close after retailers moved their manufacturing overseas in the 1970s and 80s.
But now the demand is back for British brands made by British people, and Leicestershire is set to see a renaissance.
Earlier this year, the Leicester and Leicestershire Enterprise Partnership published a document that said 88 per cent of employers expect their businesses to grow in the next three years, leading to new jobs.
It also said the textile manufacturing industry in the LLEP area is the second largest employment area in the UK, with around 9,480 people in jobs. There are about 1,480 textile manufacturing firms in the area.
Sue Tilley, economic strategy manager at the LLEP, said: "Leicestershire's textile scene is seeing a huge renaissance. It's incredibly exciting."
Thanks to a rise in 'fast fashion' – where catwalk trends quickly move from the runways to the high street to keep up with demand – and online retail, the county's textile industry is seeing an increase in demand.
Sue said: "Businesses here will run off 500 pieces as opposed to 50,000.
"If you went to China, it wouldn't pay you to do 500 pieces there because you have to fly them in.
"People and retailers expect to get things quickly.
"It's very difficult in this country to expect what is going to be required, so companies need to be nimble to produce things quickly when the season changes. You can't do that overseas."
Even if machinery is brought in to replace workers, there are still job opportunities because people are needed to programme the machines and work with them.
Sue said: "The fashion industry enables a lot of activities.
"These include manufacturing the garment, marketing it, programming websites to sell it, promotion and point of sale in stores.
"Then there are soft furnishings as well, like Dunelm, who are part of the textile market, and we've got big retailers here too. Next, for example, is a massive company and employs a lot of people.
"Then you have the supply chains who deal with things like compliance with ethical manufacturing.
"There are a lot of opportunities that are being driven by the internet and this is great for young designers who are coming out of university and launching their own brands."
A great example of a young designer making her mark in the industry is Tayla-Blue Mitchell-Jarvis, founder of HOT!MESS clothing in Hinckley, which was launched in 2013.
HOT!MESS processes around 10,000 orders a week, which can increase depending on sale days and one-offs like Black Friday.
Tayla said: "The amazing staff in my warehouse go into robot mode in periods like that, but they love it. They also thrive at the success of the business."
She employs 13 people but is looking to relocate at the end of the year and take on a further five to 10 staff.
Tayla said: "Leicester has some great factories. We have extremely close relationships with a couple of factories in Leicester.
"We've grown together from the bottom, where we were making 20 to 50 pieces per style, to now where we're making 4 to 5,000 of each piece we sell online.
"We sold them our dream when we began, pushed them to help us out and promised it would pay off, and it did.
"Many factories won't consider working with start-up brands, so we're forever thankful to them."
In the future, the LLEP aims to create an enterprise space, bringing together all of the existing textile companies in Leicestershire – from retailers to manufacturers – with the educational establishments to strengthen relations between the two.
It has begun early steps towards that already by forging a relationship with Kate Hills, founder and editor of Make It British.
Sue said: "We're holding an event with Make It British about the opportunities that are out there. It is the first time Make It British is holding an event like this outside of London and it will be a day of talks and activities for retailers and manufacturers.
"It will take place at the Vijay Patel Building, home to the faculty of Art, Design and Humanities at De Montfort University, on October 28.
"What we have here is lots of clusters of activity. But what want is to create a central hub where we can combine grassroots level skills with students, graduates and research and development.
"What we need though is the funds to enable it to come together, deliver the skills and training and showcase the textiles activity we have here."
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Beauty: the best new hydrators
The reality of my job is that I often have to stop using products I like very much, purely in order to make room for testing new ones – time is finite, and I have only one face. I’ve rarely been so reluctant as I was when, last week, I parked my Hyaluronic Layering regime prescribed by Intraceuticals. This is a range for very dehydrated skins, the kind that cause a minority of readers to say “nothing works! My face still feels parched!” despite their drinking gallons of water and sampling every product from Superdrug to Selfridges.
On first glance, the Intraceuticals Rejuvenate system feels like too much work and cash (products start from a staggering £57.95). There’s a cleanser (which I abandoned because I don’t hold with face washes), serum, gel and cream, to be layered on in that order. All are rich in antioxidants and hyaluronic acid, so prized for its proven ability to hold a thousand times its weight in water, thus replumping and temporarily brightening skin. The effect on my own has been completely marvellous. Fine dehydration lines have been plumped to extinction, my skin has a glow of good health, and my makeup goes on like butter on warm toast. If you’ve got the budget, I recommend Rejuvenate without reservation (even despite the inclusion of alcohol in some of the products, which put me off initially).
However, next on the testing pile was something similarly brilliant. Sunday Riley’s Tidal Cream (£60) is also for dehydrated skin, but can be slotted into your existing routine as a day moisturiser. It saturates skin with dewy moisture (perhaps too much at first; I found I had to wait a few moments for the wetness to subside before applying makeup) that keeps skin comfortable and plump all day, while exfoliating papaya enzymes, known to be great at gobbling away dead, grey skin cells, leave it brighter and more glowing. I saw a clear difference in only one use.
At the other end of the price scale, Simple is just launching a lovely hydrating oil without the inclusion of mineral oil, as part of its new range of cleansers (from £4.49). This is another example of the high street’s increased, if overdue, understanding that oily skins can suffer dehydration, too, and need ingredients that won’t put them at greater risk of breakouts.
On first glance, the Intraceuticals Rejuvenate system feels like too much work and cash (products start from a staggering £57.95). There’s a cleanser (which I abandoned because I don’t hold with face washes), serum, gel and cream, to be layered on in that order. All are rich in antioxidants and hyaluronic acid, so prized for its proven ability to hold a thousand times its weight in water, thus replumping and temporarily brightening skin. The effect on my own has been completely marvellous. Fine dehydration lines have been plumped to extinction, my skin has a glow of good health, and my makeup goes on like butter on warm toast. If you’ve got the budget, I recommend Rejuvenate without reservation (even despite the inclusion of alcohol in some of the products, which put me off initially).
However, next on the testing pile was something similarly brilliant. Sunday Riley’s Tidal Cream (£60) is also for dehydrated skin, but can be slotted into your existing routine as a day moisturiser. It saturates skin with dewy moisture (perhaps too much at first; I found I had to wait a few moments for the wetness to subside before applying makeup) that keeps skin comfortable and plump all day, while exfoliating papaya enzymes, known to be great at gobbling away dead, grey skin cells, leave it brighter and more glowing. I saw a clear difference in only one use.
At the other end of the price scale, Simple is just launching a lovely hydrating oil without the inclusion of mineral oil, as part of its new range of cleansers (from £4.49). This is another example of the high street’s increased, if overdue, understanding that oily skins can suffer dehydration, too, and need ingredients that won’t put them at greater risk of breakouts.
Monday, July 18, 2016
Fashion: From beach to bar - the cover story
From beach dresses to all-in-ones, holiday cover-ups are a practical fashion trend you can wear at home too. Stephanie Smith has tips.
Once upon a time, there were only sarongs. And, of course, towels. But now, there are so many ways of protecting both your skin and your modesty by the shore that the “beach cover-up” has become a fashion genre all of its own, encompassing the copious options and styles of garment that fall loosely into the category.
There are kaftans, beach dresses, kimonos, beach jumpsuits, beach shirts and cardigans, beach trousers, beach skirts and, yes, beach sarongs, also variously referred to as beach wraps, scarves, shawls or pashminas – basically a large piece of fabric, usually colourful and/or printed, that you can tie about your person and over your swimwear in a variety of clever ways to resemble a skirt, dress or kimono-style jacket.
The first rule when it comes to cover-ups is, don’t skimp, meaning don’t choose anything too snug-fitting. Go up at least a size, if you have to. Beach cover-ups, by their very nature, are designed to be worn over wet and damp swimwear.
They should be in natural fabrics such as pure cotton and linen, which absorb moisture effectively and dry out quickly. And they should be loose-fitting, allowing the air and heat to circulate around so body, so that it can dry out thoroughly too.
Anything tight-fitting or in man-made fibres will trap the moisture and allow it to mingle with perspiration – as anyone stuffed into in a polyester or stretch jersey bodycon shift dress on a boiling hot day while attending a wedding breakfast in a conservatory-style dining room will already know, much to their discomfort.
Kaftans and kimonos are a good place to start. Both are loose, but the difference is that a kimono ought to be open at the front, and is usually drawn in at the waist and fastened with a drawstring.
The current fashion love affair with the Seventies means that there are plenty of options, especially in sunset yellow and burnt orange, both of which are ideal for a beach holiday in the sun.
Following on from the basic concept that every piece in your suitcase has to work and double up in function, it makes sense that any cover-up you choose should be suitable for wearing not just on the beach or by the pool (where semi nudity is acceptable), but also sight-seeing and out to dinner (for which, generally speaking, it is not).
Thin cotton fabrics do tend to be see-through, especially in this summer’s must-have white, so make sure you have something to wear underneath. A cotton slip, such as the ones that often come on the peg with a transparent chiffon dress, is ideal, so check to see if you have any in nude, black or white. If you don’t, try LordandTaylor.com.
Obviously, you can also wear your kimonos and kaftans over tees and shorts, but a cotton slip lets you wear them properly as dresses.
Marks & Spencer has a great range of beach dresses, which tend to be of a higher quality than some other High Street stores and so can often be worn by themselves quite easily. Look out for lovely wrap and twist-front styles, falling to just below the knee and so flattering, you’ll be wanting to mix them into your at-home daywear and working wardrobe.
For this summer, off-the-shoulder beach dresses and all-in-ones are very much on-trend, and work well with swimwear. If you choose one that matches or suits the straps on your swimsuit or bikini, that’s a ready-made outfit you could go anywhere in, without anyone guessing you are actually stepping out in your beach gear.
Finally, don’t forget the humble sarong, not least because it can be fashioned to create different looks. Take a look at Fairwindssarongs.com, which gives descriptions of 21 ways including hareem jumpsuit and Toga dress. What more do you need?
Monday, July 11, 2016
Let's Talk About Why Some People Think Fashion Is Frivolous
From an early age, women are encouraged to pay attention to how they look and what they're wearing (how many times were you told, "You look so pretty in your dress!" versus "That's such a smart idea you had!" when you were a child?). And when we get older, we're made to feel ashamed for paying attention to something as trivial as our clothes. Fashion, we're told, isn't a serious hobby or interest. And that's not just coming from the patriarchy; feminists, too, often see fashion as a tool to keep women distracted, in debt, and in pain.
But you know instinctively that that's not the case — or at least, that fashion has the potential to be so much more than that. But if you've ever had a difficult time elucidating that fact, it helps to hear it straight from someone who's been thinking about the subject for two decades, and for whom fashion has played an important, crucial role in understanding who she is as a person. Our global editor-in-chief Christene Barberich recently sat down with Elisa Kreisinger, the host of our weekly podcast Strong Opinions Loosely Held, to discuss the value of fashion and the powerful function it can serve. We spoke with Kreisinger about their conversation.
Why do you think fashion has a reputation as something that's frivolous and shallow?
"From a young age, women are told their worth comes from what they look like. Then, we're told that we're narcissistic for caring about how we look. It exemplifies a culture that consistently pulls the rug out from under women and other minorities and changes the rules of the game. But when it comes to communities who desperately need to express themselves, it's historically been marginalised communities of colour and queer communities. Anything that is seen as 'feminine' (pop culture, makeup, fashion) is dismissed as frivolous, while traditionally 'masculine' activities such as baseball, fishing, and golf are upheld as pastimes. I think no mater your gender, bonding activities like sports and pop culture, manicures and shopping should be viewed for what they are: hobbies that foster bonds and help us make sense of our selves and the world around us."
Do you think that there's an element — or a perspective — that's crucial in loving style and fashion that elevates it from a petty pursuit that turns women into objects to be admired? Does it even matter?
"Saying it needs to be elevated plays into the stereotype that it's frivolous when it's not. But I understand your question. The element for me that elevates fashion and style is looking at it from an intellectual property standpoint. Fashion is one of the few industries with very little copyright protection. You can take a jacket and replicate it because apparel is viewed as utilitarian. So unlike other artists, filmmakers and musicians, designers can sample, remix, copy and reimagine other people's designs. This sampling not only leads to more creativity in the field, but much, much, higher returns. The food, fashion, and auto industries see much larger gross sales than film, book, and music industries who think copyright protection is the way to make more money. For me, this example of open culture and remixing in the fashion industry is what differentiates it from other industries in a way that is seriously threatening to the status quo."
Do you think that women's media companies and publishers have a responsibility to change how fashion is discussed and framed?
"Certainly. Women's publishers have a history of selling a fantasy, not a social justice cause. So when women's and fashion publishers reclaim a movement it never really wanted to be involved with until it sold ads and brought in views, it's always problematic. I think women's media companies should acknowledge that fashion has a history that's flawed: placing a high value on youth, whiteness, thinness, cheap labor, and heteronormative perspectives. But here's how we, as publishers, are calling them out and how we are pushing the industry — and each other — to be better."
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Milan Fashion Week: Miuccia Prada's clothes speak for themselves
I’ve been told by enough designers that time is luxury. I think thats why people are creating things that take up so much of the damn stuff, because its the only thing that’s really worth anything when previously precious materials have been commonplace, and now just common, and good design is all too frequently taking a back seat to churning out money-making stuff. So I took my time writing this, despite braving the ritualistic hurtling of press backstage to find out as fast as humanly possibly what has made Miuccia Prada’s brain whirr over the past six months. It is a rush like no other because Prada is one of fashion’s great thinkers, and this is the one chance to hear straight from her what she intended us to see. It’s also a rush because Mrs Prada shows at 6pm of a Thursday evening in Milan, so editors fling themselves at their keyboards to make the European newspaper deadlines. No time you see. No luxury.
I enjoy the scrabble. It’s not something I do all that often, at shows - but it’s worth it there. That’s because Miuccia Prada always has exciting, interesting notions, which maybe gel with what you saw in the show, but perhaps jar. I always think a Prada show is a bit like a fashion Rorschach test. It’s more a measure of you than her, to see if you see what you’re supposed to see, and if you like it or not.
However, I also like to make up my own mind about Prada. Her intentions are frequently illuminating and always fascinating, but her work is complex enough to see your own truth and story in it. It’s open for interpretation, rather than the homogeny of eighties, seventies, hippy or goth offered by other designers, superficial references sliding across the surface. Mrs Prada’s ideas are embedded, ingrained in her clothing. Everyone will unpick them differently.
This time, however, Miuccia Prada wasn’t there to see her own show, due to a family bereavement. There are some things bigger than fashion, even when you are one of its defining figures. Mrs Prada left the design studio at midnight the day before the show, and the thronging crowds backstage were met not by she, but by a he: Fabio Zambernardi, design director of both Prada and Miu Miu. He’s generally a behind-the-scenes type - a few members of the press, the same ones who push into Mrs Prada’s face for answers every season, later asked me his surname, which illustrates quite how unknown he is.
Zambernardi did Mrs Prada proud in deciphering the meaning of this show - he talked about subverting classics, about the bubbly transparent organza jackets and skirts being like the memory or idea of a garment, rather than its concrete physicality. Layered over other more substantial garments, they leant them a mirage-like ethereal quality. Chopped-up scraps of millinery veiling were pasted against the models’ necks; the organza stuff felt like veils over the clothes too, blurring hemlines and outlines. It felt a little like a curator explaining the intentions of an artist as we wandered about their gallery opening.
Forget classics, and ghosts of garments, and all those suits - although the return of the latter, in the wake of the Conservative victory and a Right Wing wave across Europe, is a fascinating example of fashion reflecting political upheaval. What’s more conservative than a neatly matching skirt-suit, lines of patchwork straight and narrow?
I never think of Prada’s clothes as straight and narrow - the former especially evident in her menswear’s sly, transgressive sexuality. And no-one’s reach, nor mind, is broader in fashion than Mrs Prada’s. Except, possibly, Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons, although i feel Kawakubo has distanced herself from the fashion world - and even clothing - in recent seasons. Mrs Prada, by contrast, is at its beating heart.
What are my other takes on these clothes? How about the primacy of line, the idea of the simple, even primitive gesture of marking a horizontal or vertical, which was the foundation of both illustration and language in prehistoric times. The martingales splicing Mrs Prada’s jackets at the back were horizontal, all that patching vertical, her tweeds in prince-of-wales checks, like cross-hatching across the body. Those veils were criss-cross checkers too, come to think of it. The print, on organza coats and skirts, looked like parallel lines of matchsticks. Then the embroidery, the glorious, scribbled flowers in pailettes spilling out of the collection’s predominantly narrow silhouettes. Mrs Prada colouring outside her own lines. They looked luxurious, and like they took a long, long time. They clattered loudly as the models took their turns below curving panes of plastic, like blown up palettes themselves.
There were also absolutely no trousers. So maybe straight and narrow was indeed a key notion - the inherently feminine, archetypes of female fashionability, the fifties hat veiling, the exaggerated earrings, the gilded lips, the industrial heels, like court shoes with their trappings stripped away to expose their innards. Combine that with those ghost garments and there was an idea of looking inward, examining the construction of the feminine ideal, debunking the mystique. It felt not like the volte-face Prada normally explores, but a further extrapolation on the genetically-modified femininity of Prada’s winter collection. That collection was about what women wanted, a notion Mrs Prada told me she was fascinated by. The odd machination of desire, which is the very reason the fashion industry exists, a business devoted to convincing us all we need to buy a new jacket (here, in stripes, with those big fat martingales) when we all already own so many.
I enjoy the scrabble. It’s not something I do all that often, at shows - but it’s worth it there. That’s because Miuccia Prada always has exciting, interesting notions, which maybe gel with what you saw in the show, but perhaps jar. I always think a Prada show is a bit like a fashion Rorschach test. It’s more a measure of you than her, to see if you see what you’re supposed to see, and if you like it or not.
However, I also like to make up my own mind about Prada. Her intentions are frequently illuminating and always fascinating, but her work is complex enough to see your own truth and story in it. It’s open for interpretation, rather than the homogeny of eighties, seventies, hippy or goth offered by other designers, superficial references sliding across the surface. Mrs Prada’s ideas are embedded, ingrained in her clothing. Everyone will unpick them differently.
This time, however, Miuccia Prada wasn’t there to see her own show, due to a family bereavement. There are some things bigger than fashion, even when you are one of its defining figures. Mrs Prada left the design studio at midnight the day before the show, and the thronging crowds backstage were met not by she, but by a he: Fabio Zambernardi, design director of both Prada and Miu Miu. He’s generally a behind-the-scenes type - a few members of the press, the same ones who push into Mrs Prada’s face for answers every season, later asked me his surname, which illustrates quite how unknown he is.
Zambernardi did Mrs Prada proud in deciphering the meaning of this show - he talked about subverting classics, about the bubbly transparent organza jackets and skirts being like the memory or idea of a garment, rather than its concrete physicality. Layered over other more substantial garments, they leant them a mirage-like ethereal quality. Chopped-up scraps of millinery veiling were pasted against the models’ necks; the organza stuff felt like veils over the clothes too, blurring hemlines and outlines. It felt a little like a curator explaining the intentions of an artist as we wandered about their gallery opening.
Forget classics, and ghosts of garments, and all those suits - although the return of the latter, in the wake of the Conservative victory and a Right Wing wave across Europe, is a fascinating example of fashion reflecting political upheaval. What’s more conservative than a neatly matching skirt-suit, lines of patchwork straight and narrow?
I never think of Prada’s clothes as straight and narrow - the former especially evident in her menswear’s sly, transgressive sexuality. And no-one’s reach, nor mind, is broader in fashion than Mrs Prada’s. Except, possibly, Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons, although i feel Kawakubo has distanced herself from the fashion world - and even clothing - in recent seasons. Mrs Prada, by contrast, is at its beating heart.
What are my other takes on these clothes? How about the primacy of line, the idea of the simple, even primitive gesture of marking a horizontal or vertical, which was the foundation of both illustration and language in prehistoric times. The martingales splicing Mrs Prada’s jackets at the back were horizontal, all that patching vertical, her tweeds in prince-of-wales checks, like cross-hatching across the body. Those veils were criss-cross checkers too, come to think of it. The print, on organza coats and skirts, looked like parallel lines of matchsticks. Then the embroidery, the glorious, scribbled flowers in pailettes spilling out of the collection’s predominantly narrow silhouettes. Mrs Prada colouring outside her own lines. They looked luxurious, and like they took a long, long time. They clattered loudly as the models took their turns below curving panes of plastic, like blown up palettes themselves.
There were also absolutely no trousers. So maybe straight and narrow was indeed a key notion - the inherently feminine, archetypes of female fashionability, the fifties hat veiling, the exaggerated earrings, the gilded lips, the industrial heels, like court shoes with their trappings stripped away to expose their innards. Combine that with those ghost garments and there was an idea of looking inward, examining the construction of the feminine ideal, debunking the mystique. It felt not like the volte-face Prada normally explores, but a further extrapolation on the genetically-modified femininity of Prada’s winter collection. That collection was about what women wanted, a notion Mrs Prada told me she was fascinated by. The odd machination of desire, which is the very reason the fashion industry exists, a business devoted to convincing us all we need to buy a new jacket (here, in stripes, with those big fat martingales) when we all already own so many.
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