Four Years in the Making
I sketched the first idea for the Lawrence on the back of an envelope in January 2019.
A fitted, military-style jacket with a stiff collar. Patch pockets at the chest, welt pockets at the hips. Inspired by my Great-Grandfather’s WW1 uniform, but reimagined to be sharper; more dress uniform than army surplus.
For four years, I worked day in and day out with craftspeople across Britain. Six prototypes, countless adjustments. Every seam, every button, every cut of cloth had to justify itself.
Why Only 50 Were Made
The fabric was always going to be central. I wanted something my Great-Grandfather would have considered an investment; tough, timeless and beautiful. That search led me to a 350gsm GOTS-certified organic cotton gabardine. A fabric that descended from the same tightly woven cloth Thomas Burberry developed for WWI trench coats. Rain-resistant, durable and sharp.
But just as I was about to open the order books, the mill that produced it closed its looms. Droughts, raw cotton shortages and rising costs forced their hand.
I managed to buy the very last roll. Enough to make 50 jackets. No more.
When the order books opened, all 50 sold out in under 36 hours. Those who bought became the founding members of what I called the Barnfield Pals Brigade; a nod to the regiments of friends and co-workers who enlisted together in 1914.
Each jacket was more than a piece of clothing. It was a statement of values. Patience over speed, craft over trend, permanence over disposability.
The Lining: A Story Within the Story
The inside of each Lawrence carries a one-off work of art. I commissioned illustrator Thomas Moore of Lást Maps to create a two-and-a-half metre hand-drawn panorama: 118 illustrations stitched across Britain’s road network, from winter in Scotland to summer in Cornwall.
No two jackets share the same cut of lining. Each is unique. Each is a fragment of the whole story. My hope was always that it would spark conversation, connect strangers and act as a reminder that journeys matter as much as destinations.
Made in Great Britain
Britain once produced more clothing than any country in the world. Today, it’s less than 1%. But expertise survives in pockets. In mills, cutters, button-makers, small workshops. For the Lawrence, I sought them out one by one. Each person who worked on the jacket kept a corner of this industry alive.
When you buy a Barnfield jacket, you’re not just buying from me. You’re supporting an ecosystem of individuals and companies who still believe that making less but making better is the future.
What the Lawrence Represents
The Lawrence isn’t just a jacket. It’s the foundation of what Barnfield stands for: earned luxury, built slowly and without compromise.
Every launch that follows will carry the same DNA. The patience of a four-year build distilled into a standard that I refuse to lower. Whether it’s a peacoat, a sweater or a field jacket yet to come, each will be made with the same care, obsession and permanence.
As I wrote to customers before the launch:
Whenever we wear a piece of clothing, we tell people what we believe in before we say a word. Wearing a Barnfield jacket tells the world that you champion quality and time in a craft over immediacy, individuality over cost, sustainability over trends.
The Lawrence proved that there are still people who want to invest in clothing that will outlive trends and perhaps even outlive them.