How Barbour became the ultimate British symbol

And Barbour has become increasingly popular in the United States in recent years – article in The Spectator an American writer describes “How Barbour Hacked America”. He was increasingly seen on TV screens in episodes of Succession – mainly as patriarch Logan Roy – episodes of Industry and most notably The Crown.

The brand is traditionally synonymous with the British upper classes, riding and hunting on a par with Land Rovers and Hunter wellington boots. It’s under siege like Burberry or Harris Tweed – a signifier of class, history, heritage and quality. But Barbour’s trajectory has been nuanced, and its appeal is now much broader.

Rural origin

Founded by John Barbour in Newcastle South Shields in 1894, the brand began as strictly country, utilitarian clothing for hunting and fishing. There were pockets for storing game cartridges, a “thorn-proof” wax coating for traversing hostile terrain, and some versions even had a roomy “toy pocket” with enough room for an entire pheasant. Another style was cut short for easy riding.

Over time, the jackets develop a worn patina, giving them a charmingly disheveled character – traditionally a nod to worn Barbour. They also emit an unmistakably musty smell from the wax coating.

In 1972, Dame Margaret Barbour took over the family business and introduced new styles. And soon after, when the soon-to-be-born Princess Diana entered the public consciousness, Barbour’s golden age followed. A young Lady Diana Spencer helped popularize the garment in the late 1970s and early 80s, and the jacket became a shortened version of the Sloane Ranger, which, like its US preppy counterpart, became an increasingly recognizable strain. Peter York and Ann Barr’s popular book, The Official Sloane Ranger Handbook, sealed Sloane’s unmistakable identity. Diana was the Sloane poster girl at Barbour and Pearl.

As the Sloane ethos (T-shirt, pearls, champagne, white privilege) fell out of favor, it wasn’t long before the Barbour look came back into fashion – this time through the bastion of Britishness, the Glastonbury Festival; it soon became the unofficial uniform of muddy festival outings, often paired with tights and a mini dress. In 2013, willow It girl and Glastonbury fan Alexa Chung collaborated with the brand to create Alexa-style jackets, and the partnership continues today – the latest collection Inspired by Glastonbury in the 1990s. Chung told Vogue last year: “I think we all yearn for a time before all the acts, and my concern for practical things worn with more frivolous things is perfectly displayed at a music festival.”

In 2020, the brand made a bold transition from rural to urban when, like other “heritage” fashion houses, it dipped its toes into streetwear. A collaboration with the skate brand and influential fashion powerhouse Supreme, which included a number of waxed cotton jackets and accessories, was a radical move for Barbour – but somehow it worked. Another unlikely alliance came last year when cool Scandi-chic label Ganni teamed up with the heritage brand. The waxed cotton cats were decorated with a common logo, and the plaid quilted jackets and hats, according to Vogue has a “cool girl” look. Ganni X Barbour also included a “reloved” offering that included 50 recycled and reworked jackets.

Long-lasting luxury

It is this re-loved aspect of the Barbour jacket that is perhaps the most significant of all in terms of its continued relevance. The brand recently launched its Wax for Life initiative, a service to re-wax, repair or customize your existing Barbour. After all, these are the jackets that last forever – the more beaten up the better. The environmentally conscious King Charles has worn Barbour for decades; Queen Elizabeth wore hers for 25 years and declined a new one offered by the brand for her recent jubilee.

An archive at Barbour HQ in Newcastle holds decades of jackets. THE Ian Bergin is director of menswear recently told Elle: “Coats are very understated in terms of design, so they’re very wearable… Because they’re inherently designed for a purpose, they last a long time. In terms of trend. So they’ve cut through what I think is the biggest factor [the sustainability] sense.”

Longevity and a sense of quiet, understated luxury go hand in hand with Barbour’s status as a family business passed down through generations. From country English girl to city skating kid; from the Queen to Steve McQueen; from the muddy, elite polo field to the muddy, egalitarian festival field; From 19th century hunting and fishing to 21st century recycling, the all-encompassing Barbour has come a long way. A perfect soft power gift that subtly hints at many different, hard-to-define qualities – history, consistency, functionalism, longevity, family, modernity, coolness, sustainability – and an optimistic look to the future.

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