There is a shift happening right now in the way people think about what they wear. People are reading labels. They are asking where things are made, what they are made from, and whether they will last. After decades of clothing that was designed to be replaced rather than kept, that feels like a significant change. We've been waiting for it.

This collection - Return to Form - is our response to that shift. It draws on the oldest traditions in knitwear and asks what they might look like when you bring them forward into modern life. To understand what we were reaching for, it helps to understand where cable knit comes from in the first place.

The story of cable knit begins, as so many good stories do, in difficult conditions. In the early 1900s, on the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland - three small rocks in the Atlantic, exposed to fierce winds and cold seas - local women began developing a distinctive style of heavily patterned knitwear. Knitted from undyed wool that retained its natural lanolin, the garments were dense, water-resistant, and built to withstand genuine hardship. The cable stitch, with its braided, rope-like texture, added both insulation and structure. It made the fabric thicker. It made it warmer. It was practical first, and beautiful second.

The mythology that grew up around Aran knitwear - that each family had its own pattern, that a drowned fisherman could be identified by his sweater - turns out to be largely invented, romantically embellished by a yarn shop owner in the 1930s who noticed a resemblance between cable stitches and Celtic knotwork. But the reality is interesting enough without the legend. These were garments made by hand, with skill, for people whose lives depended on staying warm. The craft encoded real knowledge about how to make something that worked.

A single traditional Aran sweater could take up to two months to complete and contain close to 100,000 individual stitches.

And then, gradually, something changed. From the 1980s onward, the rise of offshore manufacturing and cheap synthetic fibres fundamentally altered what clothing could be and what we expected of it. Acrylic became the budget stand-in for wool. Polyester replaced natural fibres across category after category. By the early 2000s, synthetic fibres had overtaken cotton as the most-produced textile material in the world, and today they represent nearly two-thirds of all fibre produced globally.

The knitwear category was not immune.

Jumpers began to pill and disintegrate after a few washes. They lost their shape. The weight that had always signalled quality was replaced with something lighter and cheaper that looked similar on a hanger but felt entirely different against skin.

Most people didn't notice immediately, because the change happened slowly. But once you notice it, you cannot un-notice it.

What we are experiencing now is a correction. Not a nostalgic retreat, a genuine reassessment. A generation of consumers who grew up entirely within the fast fashion era are starting to ask different questions. Sustainability is part of it, but it goes deeper than that. There is a growing sense that the relationship between a person and their clothing should mean something. That the things you wear every day should be worth wearing.

Cable knit has always been part of that conversation. It never really went away, it just got diluted. Copied in acrylic, produced at volume, stripped of the weight and texture that made it interesting in the first place. In recent years it has found its way back onto runways, into the collections of serious designers, and, more importantly, back into the everyday wardrobes of people who want to wear something real.

For this collection, we went back to the logic of the cable: structure that comes from the stitch itself, not from heavy construction or restrictive tailoring. But we made a conscious decision to soften everything around it. The yarn is baby alpaca - lighter than wool, warmer by weight, and with a natural softness that gets better with every wear. The silhouettes are relaxed. The garments move with you rather than holding you in place.

Cable knit has traditionally carried a certain weight, both literally and in terms of how it makes you feel dressed. A classic Aran sweater is a statement. It announces itself. We wanted the opposite of that, pieces that carry all the craft and intention of the tradition, but that you put on in the morning and forget you're wearing, in the best possible way.

The result is something that lives at the intersection of structure and ease. Knitwear that looks considered, because it is, but that doesn't make demands of you.