(not) the end of an era

Cabbages & Roses are ceasing production. Those of you who have been with me for a while will know just how much I love their wonderful clothes. Since 2006, when the brand expanded from homewares into “fashion”, Cabbages have been making splendid garments from gorgeous fabrics that have always been beautifully designed, built to last, full of fun, and independent of spirit (rather than slavishly trend-led). I fell in love with Cabbages & Roses when their clothes began to be stocked by Jigsaw, and I happened across them in the York and Edinburgh branches. As someone who was obsessed with textiles, craft and tailoring – particularly when those things involved wool – I immediately noticed just how well-made and thoughtfully-designed anything with a Cabbages & Roses label was. The garment shapes were unusual – empire line coats, puff-ball skirts, patchwork dresses cut on the bias – and the fabrics well-chosen and interesting, from lightweight wool-cashmere blends to crinkly seersucker checks. Cabbages & Roses garments were always lined, and their details – contrasting buttons, velvet trims, heavy silk or grosgrain ribbons – were just the kind of thing you’d choose and stitch on if you were making something special for yourself by hand. Most unusually, perhaps, in these garments the use of fabric seemed not just generous but luxuriously unstinting: the dresses billowed, the coats swished, and the skirts twirled round in an extraordinary seven-metre circle. Yes, these clothes were expensive, but, my goodness, these were couture-quality pieces, that had somehow – miraculously – become available in a shop on my local UK high street. What joy!

I studied and emulated the style of Cabbages & Roses for a wee while, before I treated myself to this coat . . .

. . . which I happened to be wearing on February 1st, 2010, when I had my stroke.

I later wrote a poem about the coat. . . .

. . .and I continue to wear it to this day.

After my stroke, I started wearing Cabbages & Roses a lot. I generally treated myself to a single piece from each Autumn / Winter collection (how I loved the tartans!) and scoured eBay, scooping up second-hand garments from previous collections whenever they turned up in my size.

These dressed-up, extravagant, yet extraordinarily comfortable clothes became an essential element of my personal style in my early post-stroke years. I was very self-conscious of my limp, dropped-foot and wonky leg, but no one noticed these things beneath a glorious billowing Cabbages skirt.

Slowly, my body settled into its new style, and at the same time, my knitting gradually became my livelihood. As well as the business’s designer and craftswoman, I was also its model and stylist. The stylist me often styled the model me in my now rapidly expanding collection of Cabbages & Roses garments.

I soon discovered that one of the many wonderful things about Cabbages & Roses was that they reproduced their versatile, wearable garment styles season after season, year after year, in different fabrics. Thus if I found a garment style that I really liked – the Glenda dress, the Carly Bubble dress, or the pinafore above whose name escapes me – I could seek out earlier iterations from previous seasons on eBay – trusting that, whenever one became available in my size, the quality and fit would be just the same. In an era of fast fashion and seasonal disposability, Cabbages & Roses seemed to buck the trend in their unashamedly long-term and sustainable approach to style. I admired what they were doing, and decided to approach their founder to find out more.

Thus it was that eighteen months after my stroke, I interviewed Cabbages and Roses wonderful director, Christina Strutt, for this blog. It was such a pleasure to be able to tell this brilliant woman how much her clothes had meant to me, and how inspiring I found her, as a woman ploughing her own independent creative furrow.

I then went on to plough my own, rather different creative furrow. But I continued to wear Christina’s clothes.

My collection of Cabbages garments – especially of coats – is now fairly extensive. Over the years, any one who has modelled anything for a KDD collection has likely worn at least one Cabbage coat.

. . . garments from my Cabbages & Roses collection have often featured on the covers of our books . . .

. . .we continue to feature Cabbages garments in the styling of our recent collections . . .

. . . and I often wear Cabbages garments when I’m out and about in my daily life.

Cabbages clothes can be practical and comfortable, as well as stylish and distinctive. If I’m wearing a Cabbages coat anywhere, at any time of year, I can pretty much guarantee that at least one woman will stop me to say how much she likes it. I have encountered fellow cabbage enthusiasts on the streets of Glasgow and London, Manchester and Lerwick and met one, once, in a gift shop on the isle of Colonsay, where we happily shared stories of our favourite styles. I was very sad indeed to hear of Christina’s death, and I’m sad, too, that there will now be no new Cabbage collections. But the nature of these clothes – that I am proud to wear, and to feature in my work – is that they are, in all respects, built to last. Cabbages garments remain integral to my personal style and I know I’ll continue to be inspired and delighted by these clothes when wearing and photographing my own designs. I’m sure it won’t surprise you to learn that there are several pieces in my collection that have not yet found their place in the KDD styling sun – and are sure to do so in coming years.

Thank you, Cabbages & Roses! For you it’s the end of the line, but certainly not the end of an era. I truly cherish my collection of your splendid garments, which will continue to bring joy and inspiration to my wardrobe and styling for many years to come.