The 131-Year Long Story Behind Barbour’s Global Domination

Every so often, a brand reaches a point when its moniker conjures a specific image and mood for most anyone who hears it. Celebrities name drop it in songs (see: Addison Rae’s “Diet Pepsi,” Beyonce’s “Levi’s Jeans,” and Bruno Mars’ “Versace On The Floor”); people will use it as a verb (ahem, “Windexing”); it becomes shorthand for a general category (like when you need a Band-Aid). Essentially, and it becomes the corporate version of a Madonna or Prince: one single word that gets a clear message across.

Barbour is on the tipping point to becoming one such rarified labels. Or maybe, some might argue, it’s already there, serving up sartorial shorthand for unfussy-yet-chic Anglo style. In the off chance that you don’t know the British heritage company by name, certainly you’ve seen it in action over the last several years. It’s collaborated with the most luxurious of high fashion houses, including Gucci and Erdem, as well as buzzy contemporary companies with mass global appeal, such as Farm Rio and Ganni. Pretty much every UK cool girl has thrown one of the brand’s signature jackets — the Beaufort and Bedale menswear styles — over a pair of micro shorts at some point while mucking around the rabidly photographed Glastonbury Music Festival. And perhaps, most importantly, it has recieved a Royal Warrant, officially making it the go-to outerwear source for England’s Royal Family (and, thusly, Kate Middleton — she’s a big fan).

When I mentioned this story on a work trip to a fellow journalist, the sort of traveler who’s on a new continent each week, he nodded knowingly. “I’ve been seeing them everywhere in Italy lately,” he said, as I raised my eyebrows in surprise. He explained that chic Italian men are pairing their Barbour jackets with silky shorts and slippers. “That’s new.”

Even more tellingly, last week Barbour rolled out a joint-venture with another no-introduction-needed giant: Levi’s. What I find most interesting about the pair’s partnership was not just the synergy of workwear-driven clothes (picture waxed coats with the Levi’s insignia, denim trucker jackets with corduroy collars, and thick graphic sweatshirts), but that in a way, it was the meeting of one of America’s most iconic fashion exports with a worthy counterpart from Britain. It’s very likely that when some people buy and wear outerwear from the capsule collection, it’ll first be recognized as Barbour — which is really saying something when you consider the sheer ubiquity of Levi’s jeans, the maker behind Bruce Springsteen’s and Kurt Cobain’s pants of choice. It’s quite the achievement for what started as a tiny workwear start-up in nineteenth century Britain.

According to Barbour’s head of womenswear, Nicola Brown, this delicate and nuanced balance between historic integrity and modern appeal is always the goalpost. “Remaining true to our heritage while ensuring that we are appropriate for the contemporary world is a core part of our identity,” she tells me. “We have a number of different collections within the Barbour mainline which give us the opportunity to be dynamic and push ourselves in the way that the collections are shot and marketed, while still ensuring they are anchored in heritage and authenticity.”

Humble British Beginnings

The brainchild of Scotsman John Barbour, the brand was launched in 1894 against the backdrop of England’s rural South Shield region. “Like many heritage brands, Barbour began by meeting a real need of producing durable, intelligently designed outerwear for the working people of the region,” says Brown, explaining that at the turn of the century industries like mining, fishing, shipbuilding, and agriculture were thriving in the area. “Barbour became known for its practical, hard-wearing clothing built to withstand the elements.” Because the items were made of oilskin — a durable cotton fabric treated with waxes to be waterproof — they held up well, and quickly become a go-to for those in these outdoorsy sectors.

The line evolved over the next several decades to include a catalog service and new styles, including motorcycle-friendly garments. It didn’t, however, move in a more fashion-minded direction until 1972 when Dame Margaret Barbour stepped into the family business. Fast forward through the introduction of some canny silhouettes and a loyal customer by the name of Diana Frances Spencer, and suddenly Barbour had entered a fresh era.

A Star Turn

By the late twentieth century, Barbour jackets already had prime placements as a workaday staple in regular UK households. But OG influencer Princess Diana’s seal of approval made the styles a symbol for a sort of ‘80s preppy princess archetype dressed in pearls and a barn jacket that the British dubbed the “Sloane Ranger.” Its ubiquity didn’t begin to creep into the States, though, until a few decades later by way of splashy big screen placements, like on Daniel Craig in the 2012 movie Skyfall, and street style pictures of 2000s British it-girls-about-town like Sienna Miller and Alexa Chung.

The latter of these two ladies, in fact, sent me down a own rabbit hole to find a used Barbour on eBay in the late aughts (there was no way I could afford it full price back then). I managed to track down a very, um, loved menswear style for less than $100 that arrived with a mossy, damp odor, like it had been hanging in the mud room of someone’s house in the rainy countryside. It had clearly had a full and busy existence before arriving to me in Brooklyn, and I found myself musing over what its past life possibly entailed every time I wore it. W. David Marx, the fashion and culture writer behind the new book Blank Space: A Cultural History of the Twenty-First Century, has a similarly visceral memory of his first Barbour, purchased 15 years ago as a chicer alternative to all the Goretex out there.

“Overall the jackets in that olive green had a utilitarian simplicity that looked stylish yet had the plausible deniability of being for ‘function’ rather than fashion,” he tells me, noting that his parents used to wear the label for walking their dogs in the rain — a shared purpose, I surmise, the pieces likely fulfilled in the wardrobe of late Queen Elizabeth, a Corgi-loving, fellow Barbour stan. “I believe that this is the underlying property of all the ‘timeless’ brands: traditional functionality and associations with former aristocratic lifestyles.”

According to Brown, a blend of individual and cultural lore is integral to the Barbour experience: “Our jackets and waxed styles have become iconic over generations because they’re built with integrity and tell a story,” she tells me before pointing out that pretty much everyone who owns Barbour has a personal connection to it. “It’s a jacket passed down through the family, a coat that’s been worn for decades and repaired with pride — that emotional resonance and trust can’t be manufactured.”

Friends In The Right Places

While Barbour has been subtly threaded through day-to-day culture for the better part of the last century, its real staying power is proven through collaborations. These began quietly and strategically in the early 2010s, when the company began branching out with small capsule lines that made sense with its identity: a limited-edition range with Japanese designer TO KI TO, and special pieces made for Chung’s (now-shuttered) namesake label.

Since these initial forays, the brand has become one of the busiest players on the fashion scene, working with high end and mass retailers alike — and while the pairings don’t always make sense on paper, the resulting designs manage to stick the landing. Take, for instance, their ongoing project with Farm Rio, a Brazilian-based chain known for its flamboyant prints and frilled flourishes: something about the push-pull combination of vibrant Latin American spirit and a sturdy, no-fuss British sensibility comes off as ineffably cool.

Meanwhile, Barbour has begun to branch out into the world of hospitality as well. Last month, it kicked off a program with Faraway Hotels in Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard — an ideal fit, when you consider these locations are essentially the American counterpart to the natty English small towns in which the company got its start. In addition to offering clients a full Barbour-branded closet for both borrowing and purchase, participating hotels will be reimagining a few of their in-house pubs with tartan interiors and a special set menu.

“Partnering with Barbour felt like such a natural fit and the perfect way to celebrate the quiet charm of the off-season, and the sense of discovery it inspires,” says Ricki Millington, the vice president of experience + F&B at Collared Martin Hospitality, who tells me they’ve also built out special monogram, waxing, and patching stations for guests to maintain and personalize their purchases. It’s a nice touch for anyone retreating to these cozy hideaways in the fall and winter months. “Barbour’s heritage and craftsmanship really resonate with our Faraway guest.”

A Solid Foundation

Of course, no amount of fashion cred and A-lister endorsement can atone for a product that doesn’t hold up — especially if said product touts itself as weather resistant. So while Barbour certainly takes great pains to stay relevant in the current zeitgeist, Brown says its greatest priority is, and always will be, making high-performance wear that stands up against the elements. “We take a fit-and-function approach to designing and developing new products,” she says, telling me that some of their signature production methods have taken over a century to refine and perfect. “Our unique DNA is in the substrates we use: wax, tartan, oversized metal trims, corduroy, leather reinforcement trims and weather resistant proof and practical fabrications.”

If all those materials listed off in a row sounds a little like industry speak word salad, no matter: It’s not so important that you can call out every little element of what makes a Barbour piece Barbour. In fact, perhaps that’s what makes it stand out in a near-endless sea of alternative options. For a company that has labored so hard over high functioning details and being in the right place, at the right time, the overall effect comes off as unplanned and effortless. Much like, I think, the look of throwing beautifully beat up Barbour outerwear over your dress before running out the door.