Tied Up

When I came to live and work in London in 1976 my grandfather generously thought of a couple of things to make me fit in.

First he gave me a Spanish (AYA) side-by-side 12 bore as he thought the old Finnish (Valmet) over-and-under I was using would cause raised eyebrows were I to be asked to an English driven shoot. Secondly, he sent me to his tailor to order a suit.

A few days ago I went into Huntsman, established 1849, to buy a tie. Appropriately, founder Henry Huntsman specialised in making equestrian attire. Fortunately my £155 Hawes and Curtis suit was concealed under my top coat so I merited the attention of the senior client manager. Business is transacted at a leisurely pace. The SCM asked if I had been to Huntsman before. Once, in 1976, I confided. My grandfather wanted me to get a suit on his account. Was he a client, he asked and I took a chance and said he and probably my great uncle too, were clients. Huntsman is not the sort of business to throw things away so now the SCM is looking for my grandfather’s orders, which would be when he was living in Gloucestershire, 1920 – 1938. Incidentally I did not order a suit in 1976 as I realised it was a lot more expensive than Grandpa envisaged. I could invest in one today, I suppose, but it would last for half a century at least and I cannot manage more than twenty-five years when I’d still be running it in.

My grandfather was a customer at Aquascutum, fortuitously founded in 1851. Just in time to supply waterproof coats to officers serving in the Crimean War. I remember my uncle quite needlessly going out to count the cattle in pouring August rain at Barmeath wearing a flimsy “Pac a Mac”. Grandpa said he should have worn his Aquascutum. When he returned he had counted more cattle than were in the field. An underwriter at Lloyd’s isn’t a rancher.