Twill of the people: the workwear staple that never gets old

Indigo twill makes a contrary fashion statement. It is anti-luxury. The bleu de travail that made its way from the backs of labourers to the wardrobes of architects and artists offers a way for designers to subvert what they do with a knowing wink, like selling a toile rather than a finished garment. Thom Browne creates grosgrain-trimmed blazers with it, and twills are a constant at Comme des Garçons, Maison Margiela and Lemaire. 

Engineered Garments linen twill D Sum jacket, £392

Lemaire cotton linen Workwear jacket, £535

The Workwear exhibition currently open at Het Nieuwe Instituut in Rotterdam explores how the most prosaic of garments have influenced high fashion – from Levi’s 501s to Schiaparelli’s wartime Cash and Carry collection, incorporating chic jumpsuits with the one thing frustratingly still absent from much womenswear: pockets. The exhibition also includes three navy twill overalls by Yohji Yamamoto, a designer who loves uniform. “He has always been inspired by the photographs of workers by August Sander,” says the exhibition’s curator, Eldina Begic. “Navy was originally used for workwear because it was the cheapest dye for fabric. Workwear gives people a sense of solidarity, but now we have an interesting situation because artisans are creating natural indigos for textiles and it’s the most time-consuming, difficult thing to do. When you look closely at the Yamamoto pieces, you can tell it’s not just twill, it’s blended and elevated.” 

The latest collection from Engineered Garments – a brand synonymous with navy twill – includes the D Sum jacket that is inspired by the Japanese double-breasted samue workwear jacket. It has the rugged appearance of a piece by heritage workwear manufacturers Le Laboureur, Danton or Stan Ray, but the fabric is often a blend of linens. Like Yamamoto’s coveralls, it’s a little bit fancy.

The colour blue states ‘work’ – from farm to city

Some designers like the integrity of raw twill. “I remember the first time we used it as a fabric,” says Margaret Howell, the most stubbornly and brilliantly modernist of British designers. “The design was a simple unlined jacket based on the blue cotton French worker’s jacket. The colour and feel of the fabric were right for the character I wanted. It already looked and felt worn in.” The minimum order of the twill Howell wanted was way more than she needed, so the surplus accidentally made it a core textile in her canon, which suited her perfectly. “It’s now a staple MHL cloth,” she says. “Its colour and touch are casual. The finish gives it a friendly feel and a soft matte appearance. I have never thought of my designs as luxury garments. I think in terms of use, comfort and practicality – the quality of the fabric fits the purpose.”

Fashion repeatedly reverts to indigo twill because, like a less ridiculous version of pre-distressed luxury, it’s a humblebrag. Erica and Faye Toogood have used it since their second collection in 2014. Toogood is a multidisciplinary design studio, creating furniture and ceramics as well as clothes. Aesthetically and intellectually it fits into a no-nonsense box with St John, Labour and Wait, Ercol, Jasper Morrison et al. “We wanted to sculpt a new uniform,” says Erica Toogood, “allowing garments to empower the wearer’s own vision – to be the worker they wish to be, whether you’re a cowboy or a craftsman. The colour blue states ‘work’, from farm to city. It indicates something unisex, hardwearing, tough and with purpose.”

Indigo twill is a manifesto as much as a mood. But like Yamamoto’s blends, there are subtle variations. “French workwear uses a tight weave cotton resembling the ‘wrong’ side of moleskin,” says William Brown, co-founder of the Norfolk-based brand Old Town. “German workwear is often in herringbone twill. British drills have wartime utility numbers still used to identify them – 3110 is approximately seven ounces per square yard.” 

For Brown, who once designed outfits for David Bowie but now focuses on running a niche business with his partner Marie Willey, twill is fundamental. “As it fell from favour as a workwear fabric, with synthetics becoming the norm, its relevance to fashion increased,” he explains. “As with anything that fades from everyday use, it has a second life in the world of irony. Workwear as fashion has become popular in direct proportion to the decline in physical labour, so that the person who works in front of a screen can at least look as if they are involved in manual labour.”