The hoodie

We make one hoodie. Not a range. Not a seasonal collection. One hoodie, in five colours, available all year, made when you order. The whole studio thinks about it for twelve months at a time.

It is the brand's hero piece. It is also, in a sense, the only piece that matters. The tee is a sibling. The drops are guests. The hoodie is the house.

The cloth

Four hundred and thirty grams per square metre, brushed cotton fleece. That number is the entire argument. A typical high-street hoodie is between two hundred and fifty and three hundred and twenty. A premium hoodie tops out around three-eighty. Four-thirty is the weight of a hoodie that feels real in your hand before you put it on, that sits on your shoulders with presence, that does not go transparent at the elbows after a year of use.

The brushed inside is what makes it warm. The combed long-staple cotton on the outside is what stops it pilling. Together they make the kind of cloth that gets better through the first ten washes — softer, more drapey, more yours.

The cut

Boxy. The shoulders sit a little wide. The body is generous through the chest. The hem drops just below the hip-bone, not down to the thigh. The sleeves are long enough that the cuff covers the wrist when your arms are at your sides, but not so long that you have to push them up to do anything. There is no slim version. There is no fitted version. The cut is the cut.

The hood is structured — drawstring through a brass eyelet, double-layer lining, sits properly on the head when pulled up. Not the floppy single-layer hood that looks fine flat but collapses when you wear it.

What it doesn't have

No logo on the front. No logo on the back. No tonal embroidery near the chest. No woven label sewn down the side seam. The only mark on the garment is a small woven label on the inside of the neck, in the brand colour against parchment. You will not see it once the garment is on you.

We are not interested in customers being walking advertisements for us. The hoodie should be the thing. Nothing else.

What it costs

Fifty-five pounds. We could charge eighty. The price is what it is because the studio is small enough that the maths works. There is no warehouse to subsidise. There is no marketing team to pay. There is no markdown season to recover from. Fifty-five pounds buys you the cloth, the work, and the studio's attention, with nothing else baked into the number.

When it arrives

About two weeks after you order. Made when the order comes in, printed if it is a graphic drop, blank if it is a permanent basic. Then to your door.

You will pull it on. You will notice the weight. You will not take it off.