The Iron Duke

As regular readers might know, when we first set out to recreate the M1941 Arctic, we knew authenticity wasn't negotiable. It's one of our core values and means that sometimes we have to make difficult and rather expensive decisions. This means obsessing over every detail - from the serge lining sourced from that 185-year-old Yorkshire mill to the exact stitching pattern on the collar. But there was one detail that tested our resolve: the keyhole-shaped buttonholes that adorned the original Arctics. Our studio just didn’t have the machinery to deliver the original versions. So we did what any slightly obsessive group of founders would do: we bought our own machine.

Enter the Iron Duke

Originally made in the 1950s, the Reece 101 (known affectionately as The Iron Duke) has one job - keyhole shaped buttonholes. It’s a lot of machine for a one trick pony, but that what it does. It’s a unashadedly vintage affair; belt driven, with a tonne of moving parts and holes for oil, it sits in stark contrast to its modern chip controlled neighbours; it’s like a Wright Brothers aircraft sitting next to a 787 Dreamliner. It’s the sort of machine you’d expect to have to crank by hand (you don’t, there’s a switch), but it’s easy to imagine having to crank it like an old car. But to watch it insert and sew a perfect buttonhole where there wasn’t one before is quite mesmeric (and a bit scary). The motor thunders, the cogs turn, the belt whirrs, the whole machine head moves back and forth like an automaton, and lo and behold, a perfectly crafted buttonhole appears, neatly finished and delivered with aplomb.

But this week it broke. Twice. Welcome Quinn.

Quinn is the engineer who knows how to wrangle the Duke. They go way back. When the Duke breaks (which based on this week is often), Quinn is on hand with a box full of specialist parts, many of which have to be machined specially to get us going again. A spanner, a hammer, some oil and a small amount of swearing later, the Duke is running, smashing out button holes like an eager graduate.

We've grown rather fond of the old beast (not sure the same can be said of our head machinist!). There's something deeply satisfying about using a machine that was built to last, to create garments that are built to last. The Duke represents everything we believe in: that the right way isn't always the easy way, and that some things are worth doing properly, even if it means taking the harder path. Every time we see the Duke in action, we're reminded why we started this company. Because the details matter and because authenticity can't be faked.

Each of the M1941 Arctics has 10 button holes, which over an edition of 531 Arctics is a lot of buttonholes. So for now the Duke is operational, chonking out buttonholes in a way that hasn’t changed for 70 years. Let’s just hope Quinn has an apprentice.

What's coming up

Next week we'll share what we've been reading and why a book about surfing has us thinking differently about business.