G / H News.

I want to start by mentioning that we would truly love it if you would consider buying something from us this Christmas. Everything that we sell is great, in all sorts of ways. It’s all here.

I mention this because, although I have spent my career creating things (a record label for Warners in the 1980s, then Pedlars, then my farm shop and pub and a festival and on and on), I have never been good at shouting about how much these ventures need your support. Truly, I do these things for love, for the passion of the project or product, and the love of creativity, and yet I have some weird hesitance about asking people to buy stuff.

To some people, that might sound nutty. But, hey ho.

I touched on this a few months ago. I think that entrepreneurs exist as two broad types: people who love the creativity and people who love the money. Both are necessary skill sets -and not entirely mutually exclusive- but I am very much the former.

I suspect this is part nature and part nurture. My parents were certainly not business people. They were brilliant in many ways, but any talk of money was grubby. Actually, Dad set up a business making wooden furniture when he was about 85. I loved the energy and spirit this demonstrated, (both were him in a nutshell) but was so concerned that he’d burn through a ton of money and cause himself unimaginable stress, that after trying to dissuade him from it in various conversations, I wrote to him outlining the reasons why he shouldn’t do it.

He ignored me, burnt through a ton of money, suffered immense stress and folded the business. But in true spirit -to me he was one of the great humans- he then wrote to me to say sorry, and tell me that I had been right all along.

Why do I mention this? Why so discursive here? Because I want to break free of this nurture and ask you to consider buying from us this Christmas.

I am fairly sure that Gladstone / Hellen isn’t going to make us rich, but with your support we can make it work financially. I know that because we have had a very encouraging first year and are growing our collection every day. We also believe that the collection is getting better.

And there is one other significant thing here. By supporting us, you are also supporting British heritage craft. As you may know, this has been a long-held interest for us and James Fox’s recent, luminous eulogy to dying British craft, Craftland, has reminded us what a tragedy it would be to lose this part of our heritage.

Also, there is so much stuff to choose from out there, the majority of which is absolute crap, that buying from us should be relatively easy because our collection is so tightly edited. I absolutely love shopping, but I only like places, whether online or IRL, that don’t have too much choice. Department stores do my head in, I want to leave supermarkets as quickly as possible, and websites that have 30 different styles of blue trouser make me panic.

Clearly, one of the problems with social media is that we are simply seeing too much stuff. The algorithm is surprisingly/reassuringly good on Instagram, and I generally only see things that interest me, but still, what a vast amount of choice there is.

I have decided that this, on the whole, is the beauty of prizes like The Mercury or The Booker, although I was kind of flummoxed by Sam Fender winning the former. I mean, really? That was the best album of the year in your opinion? Really?

On the other hand, I have read most of the long list of the Booker this year and there is some unbelievable quality there. I can completely see why Flesh won, but for me it would have been The Land in Winter, The Rest of Our Lives or Seascraper. So, judges and publishers, thank you for editing such a great collection. In a year when The Times called The Names ‘the best debut of the year’ (it was absolute tosh) I am grateful for such honest and intelligent editing.

Anyway, almost enough from me today.

In other news, Caroline and I are both having kilts made in Glen Dye tweed.

I don’t actually know when I will wear mine. But.

They are being made by a third-generation kilt maker who works about 45 minutes north of Glen Dye. Like her father and grandfather before her, she lives in a house beside her workshop. It is a modest set-up, reassuringly old-fashioned and fuss-free, but her order book is full for months ahead. However, she is about to retire and that will be that. According to Heritage Crafts, there are between 11 and 20 kilt makers (defined as earning their entire income from the craft) remaining. That’s down from 1000s. The craft is listed on Heritage Crafts as red, Endangered.

Enough!

All best,

Charlie