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Fashion Network
2 days ago
- Business
- Fashion Network
Trump tariffs put pressure on Harris Tweed makers and luxury supply chain
Harris Tweed, the centuries-old fabric woven by islanders in Scotland's Outer Hebrides, faces new global headwinds. Trump-era tariffs on wool imports are raising costs for textiles prized by luxury fashion houses worldwide. In December 1957, Reverend Murdoch MacRae travelled from his parish on Lewis and Harris, one of the Outer Hebridean islands off the northwest coast of mainland Scotland, across the Atlantic to confront the US Federal Trade Commission in Washington. At the time, President Dwight D. Eisenhower's tariffs on woollen imports threatened to trigger an exodus of island workers whose livelihoods depended on producing hand-woven tweed jackets, trousers and caps—garments long cherished by Americans, from Wall Street bankers to the Kennedys and Hollywood actors. MacRae's mission to protect the islanders from US protectionism ultimately succeeded. Yet nearly 70 years later, his achievement is being undermined by the trade policies of another figure with Hebridean roots: Donald Trump. 'Trump might portray himself as a man of Scottish heritage; he might have used the family Bible at his inauguration,' says Iain Martin, a fourth-generation weaver, but 'that man doesn't care. He's out for himself, nobody else.' Martin is one of just 150 weavers of Harris Tweed, a fabric made from coarse, woven wool. It has been his life. He started winding bobbins—a now semi-automated part of the process essential for loading yarn onto the loom—when he was five. Now, at age 57, he weaves about 8,000 meters of tweed each year, in addition to managing a 15-acre farm and caring for 600 sheep. He still uses a loom purchased by his grandfather in 1926, housed in a workshop alongside his own stack of family Bibles, a collection of colourful bobbins and a heavy blanket hand-woven by his grandmother. The distinctive diagonal-patterned Harris Tweed, unique to the Hebrides, has become part of the collateral damage caused by the US president's sweeping tariffs on global trade, measures he defends as necessary to protect American jobs. Though tweed exports are small compared to the £59.3 billion total value of UK goods shipped to the US, the island's crofters and weavers still face the same 10% tariff rate imposed on much larger exporters, even after Trump's deal with the UK government reduced levies for some other sectors. They now compete under the same terms as major companies such as automaker Jaguar Land Rover Ltd, Diageo Plc, the consumer products group, and fashion brand Burberry Group Plc. Islanders warn, as MacRae did seven decades ago, that these tariffs threaten a way of life rooted in the 18th century, on remote islands that today are home to around 26,000 people—most of them living on Lewis and Harris. The US president's mother, Mary Anne MacLeod, was once one of those islanders. She grew up in Lewis before emigrating to New York at age 17 in 1930. 'A lot of islanders go to work elsewhere and they never return home, but for people like me, crofting, weaving—it's in the blood,' says Martin. 'That's what draws me to keeping these traditions alive.' Nike sparks a tweed renaissance A 1993 British act of Parliament protects the manufacture of Harris Tweed, stipulating that producers must use pure sheep's wool dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides, weave it by hand at home and finish it in the Western Isles. They then export the fabric to around 55 countries—the US, France, Germany, Italy and Japan are the biggest markets—where designers use it in everything from luxury suits to sneakers and even whisky flasks. The industry has long been sensitive to the whims of American buyers, whose preferences have had an outsized impact on the sector. In the post-war era, purchasing a tailored tweed suit was a rite of passage for many young men. However, when US consumers turned away from wool in favour of lighter fabrics in the 1980s, Hebridean tweed-makers experienced a sharp downturn. Years later, a limited-edition tweed sneaker by Nike Inc. introduced the fabric to a younger audience, sparking a renaissance in the 2000s. The once-derelict Shawbost mill, dating back to the 1920s, was reborn as Harris Tweed Hebrides Ltd. in 2007 to capture some of that renewed US interest. Now the largest of the island's three mills and its biggest private-sector employer, the company generated a turnover of around £9 million in 2023, according to company filings. The US remains its top export market. Approximately 1 million meters of the fabric are produced annually, with the Shawbost mill accounting for about 65% of that total and supplying international brands such as Ralph Lauren Corp., Brooks Brothers and Christian Dior SE. Margaret Ann Macleod, chief executive officer of Harris Tweed Hebrides, describes the 10% tariff as 'hugely concerning,' particularly as it comes on top of higher employment taxes in the UK and against a backdrop of slowing global luxury demand. Demand for the fabric also risks being affected by the high levies the Trump administration imposed on European Union exports. Although the tariffs do not directly impact the Hebridean mills, any increase in the final retail price of garments made with Harris Tweed could prompt US clients to reconsider using the fabric. Last week, the US Court of International Trade declared the Trump tariffs illegal. However, a successful appeal by the White House has delayed a final decision, leaving those affected by the measures still awaiting clarity. 'The worst thing for buyers is being unsure,' Macleod says. 'When there are unknown costs that we can't quantify, it can make the difference between them selecting a British heritage textile or not. They may choose to delay that purchase, reduce the quantity or opt out entirely.' About 15% of Harris Tweed Hebrides' annual fabric production is already sold to Asian clients. The mill is now working to strengthen ties with markets such as South Korea—its fastest-growing market—and Japan, which Macleod will visit later this year as part of a British trade delegation. The company is also reviewing its prices—the cloth retails at £55 per meter for individual consumers—in response to the tariffs. Yet quickly pivoting to new markets is not easy for a 'slow fashion' business, where completing an order can take up to three months. The industry must also step up efforts to combat counterfeiting and raise brand awareness in newer markets like China. 'We're not going to offshore production; we legally cannot do that even if we wanted to,' says Calum Iain Maciver, interim chief executive officer of the Harris Tweed Authority, a statutory body responsible for protecting the cloth's reputation. 'Returning manufacturing plants to the USA is Trump's goal, but so many industries are caught up in that. It's quite a blunt instrument to try to solve a domestic American problem; it really is a sledgehammer.' From the sheep to the shop Producing Harris Tweed is a complex, months-long process that begins with bales of blended pure sheep wool sourced from across the UK, not just the Hebrides. Millworkers dye the wool fibres using one of 60 base colours and then spin them to achieve the fabric's rich hues. They weigh and blend different colored wools according to precise recipes created by the mill's designer to produce a wide range of shades. Next, they send the wool through carding—a mechanical combing process that disentangles and mixes the fibers—creating a candy-floss-like yarn in shades ranging from pinkish red to soft brown or earthy green. Workers then spin the yarn to strengthen it, preparing it to be wound onto bobbins. They arrange thousands of warp threads—a term derived from the Old Norse varp, meaning 'the cast of a net'—side by side lengthwise on the fabric. They then separate the threads into parallel strips and wind them onto a large beam. The mill delivers the prepared yarn and a pattern card to one of the island's self-employed weavers. The weaver introduces the weft colours—the horizontal threads woven through the warp—that create the fabric's distinctive zigzag pattern. After weaving, the mill washes, dries, steam-presses and crops the cloth before preparing it for inspection. If the cloth meets quality standards, the mill stamps it with the Orb certification mark of the Harris Tweed Authority (HTA) and readies it for export. This intricate process employs 300 millworkers and weavers, many of whom live in remote villages across the island. The HTA estimates that the sector also indirectly supports another 100 jobs in restaurants, bars and shops, along with about 1,000 registered local artisans who use Harris Tweed fabric to create and sell clothing and small accessories. 'Harris Tweed is literally woven into the community,' says Macleod. 'The economic fortunes of the islanders have always depended on the sector.' Retailers selling Harris Tweed garments, such as Peter Christian—a £10 million British tailoring brand—are already adapting to the new tariff regime. With US customers accounting for nearly 70% of its tweed suit sales, the company offered a 10% discount labelled 'reverse tariffs' in early April and scaled back advertising at the start of 2025 after a slowdown in US sales growth that predated Trump's measures. Tweed also supports the islands' £75 million tourism sector. Stornoway welcomed a record 57,000 cruise ship passengers last year. Many of these visitors tour weavers' workshops, where they learn about crofting and the craftsmanship behind Harris Tweed. They also dine in local restaurants and pubs and purchase Harris Tweed jackets or small souvenirs, such as pouches, key chains and hats. For now, says the HTA's Maciver, lobbying Washington as MacRae did in 1957 would be pointless given the current 'uncertainty and movement' surrounding the tariffs. Miriam Hamilton, 32, a weaver in Crossbost, a picturesque village 10 miles from Stornoway, says she does not plan to lower her prices to offset the higher tariffs for US customers. 'I can't absorb the extra costs,' she says.
Fashion Network
2 days ago
- Business
- Fashion Network
Trump tariffs put pressure on Harris Tweed makers and luxury supply chain
Harris Tweed, the centuries-old fabric woven by islanders in Scotland's Outer Hebrides, faces new global headwinds. Trump-era tariffs on wool imports are raising costs for textiles prized by luxury fashion houses worldwide. In December 1957, Reverend Murdoch MacRae traveled from his parish on Lewis and Harris—one of the Outer Hebridean islands off the northwest coast of mainland Scotland—across the Atlantic to confront the US Federal Trade Commission in Washington. At the time, President Dwight D. Eisenhower's tariffs on woolen imports threatened to trigger an exodus of island workers whose livelihoods depended on producing hand-woven tweed jackets, trousers and caps—garments long cherished by Americans, from Wall Street bankers to the Kennedys and Hollywood actors. MacRae's mission to protect the islanders from US protectionism ultimately succeeded. Yet nearly 70 years later, his achievement is being undermined by the trade policies of another figure with Hebridean roots: Donald Trump. 'Trump might portray himself as a man of Scottish heritage; he might have used the family Bible at his inauguration,' says Iain Martin, a fourth-generation weaver, but 'that man doesn't care. He's out for himself, nobody else.' Martin is one of just 150 weavers of Harris Tweed, a fabric made from coarse, woven wool. It has been his life. He started winding bobbins—a now semi-automated part of the process essential for loading yarn onto the loom—when he was five. Now, at age 57, he weaves about 8,000 meters of tweed each year, in addition to managing a 15-acre farm and caring for 600 sheep. He still uses a loom purchased by his grandfather in 1926, housed in a workshop alongside his own stack of family Bibles, a collection of colorful bobbins and a heavy blanket hand-woven by his grandmother. The distinctive diagonal-patterned Harris Tweed, unique to the Hebrides, has become part of the collateral damage caused by the US president's sweeping tariffs on global trade—measures he defends as necessary to protect American jobs. Though tweed exports are small compared to the £59.3 billion total value of UK goods shipped to the US, the island's crofters and weavers still face the same 10% tariff rate imposed on much larger exporters, even after Trump's deal with the UK government reduced levies for some other sectors. They now compete under the same terms as major companies such as automaker Jaguar Land Rover Ltd, Diageo Plc, the consumer products group, and fashion brand Burberry Group Plc. Islanders warn, as MacRae did seven decades ago, that these tariffs threaten a way of life rooted in the 18th century, on remote islands that today are home to around 26,000 people—most of them living on Lewis and Harris. The US president's mother, Mary Anne MacLeod, was once one of those islanders. She grew up in Lewis before emigrating to New York at age 17 in 1930. 'A lot of islanders go to work elsewhere and they never return home, but for people like me, crofting, weaving—it's in the blood,' says Martin. 'That's what draws me to keeping these traditions alive.' Nike sparks a tweed renaissance A 1993 British act of Parliament protects the manufacture of Harris Tweed, stipulating that producers must use pure sheep's wool dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides, weave it by hand at home and finish it in the Western Isles. They then export the fabric to around 55 countries—the US, France, Germany, Italy and Japan are the biggest markets—where designers use it in everything from luxury suits to sneakers and even whisky flasks. The industry has long been sensitive to the whims of American buyers, whose preferences have had an outsized impact on the sector. In the post-war era, purchasing a tailored tweed suit was a rite of passage for many young men. However, when US consumers turned away from wool in favor of lighter fabrics in the 1980s, Hebridean tweed-makers experienced a sharp downturn. Years later, a limited-edition tweed sneaker by Nike Inc. introduced the fabric to a younger audience, sparking a renaissance in the 2000s. The once-derelict Shawbost mill, dating back to the 1920s, was reborn as Harris Tweed Hebrides Ltd. in 2007 to capture some of that renewed US interest. Now the largest of the island's three mills and its biggest private-sector employer, the company generated a turnover of around £9 million in 2023, according to company filings. The US remains its top export market. Approximately 1 million meters of the fabric are produced annually, with the Shawbost mill accounting for about 65% of that total and supplying international brands such as Ralph Lauren Corp., Brooks Brothers and Christian Dior SE. Margaret Ann Macleod, chief executive officer of Harris Tweed Hebrides, describes the 10% tariff as 'hugely concerning,' particularly as it comes on top of higher employment taxes in the UK and against a backdrop of slowing global luxury demand. Demand for the fabric also risks being affected by the high levies the Trump administration imposed on European Union exports. Although the tariffs do not directly impact the Hebridean mills, any increase in the final retail price of garments made with Harris Tweed could prompt US clients to reconsider using the fabric. Last week, the US Court of International Trade declared the Trump tariffs illegal. However, a successful appeal by the White House has delayed a final decision, leaving those affected by the measures still awaiting clarity. 'The worst thing for buyers is being unsure,' Macleod says. 'When there are unknown costs that we can't quantify, it can make the difference between them selecting a British heritage textile or not. They may choose to delay that purchase, reduce the quantity or opt out entirely.' About 15% of Harris Tweed Hebrides' annual fabric production is already sold to Asian clients. The mill is now working to strengthen ties with markets such as South Korea—its fastest-growing market—and Japan, which Macleod will visit later this year as part of a British trade delegation. The company is also reviewing its prices—the cloth retails at £55 per meter for individual consumers—in response to the tariffs. Yet quickly pivoting to new markets is not easy for a 'slow fashion' business, where completing an order can take up to three months. The industry must also step up efforts to combat counterfeiting and raise brand awareness in newer markets like China. 'We're not going to offshore production; we legally cannot do that even if we wanted to,' says Calum Iain Maciver, interim chief executive officer of the Harris Tweed Authority, a statutory body responsible for protecting the cloth's reputation. 'Returning manufacturing plants to the USA is Trump's goal, but so many industries are caught up in that. It's quite a blunt instrument to try to solve a domestic American problem; it really is a sledgehammer.' From the sheep to the shop Producing Harris Tweed is a complex, months-long process that begins with bales of blended pure sheep wool sourced from across the UK, not just the Hebrides. Millworkers dye the wool fibers using one of 60 base colors and then spin them to achieve the fabric's rich hues. They weigh and blend different colored wools according to precise recipes created by the mill's designer to produce a wide range of shades. Next, they send the wool through carding—a mechanical combing process that disentangles and mixes the fibers—creating a candy-floss-like yarn in shades ranging from pinkish red to soft brown or earthy green. Workers then spin the yarn to strengthen it, preparing it to be wound onto bobbins. They arrange thousands of warp threads—a term derived from the Old Norse varp, meaning 'the cast of a net'—side by side lengthwise on the fabric. They then separate the threads into parallel strips and wind them onto a large beam. The mill delivers the prepared yarn and a pattern card to one of the island's self-employed weavers. The weaver introduces the weft colors—the horizontal threads woven through the warp—that create the fabric's distinctive zigzag pattern. After weaving, the mill washes, dries, steam-presses and crops the cloth before preparing it for inspection. If the cloth meets quality standards, the mill stamps it with the Orb certification mark of the Harris Tweed Authority (HTA) and readies it for export. This intricate process employs 300 millworkers and weavers, many of whom live in remote villages across the island. The HTA estimates that the sector also indirectly supports another 100 jobs in restaurants, bars and shops, along with about 1,000 registered local artisans who use Harris Tweed fabric to create and sell clothing and small accessories. 'Harris Tweed is literally woven into the community,' says Macleod. 'The economic fortunes of the islanders have always depended on the sector.' Retailers selling Harris Tweed garments, such as Peter Christian—a £10 million British tailoring brand—are already adapting to the new tariff regime. With US customers accounting for nearly 70% of its tweed suit sales, the company offered a 10% discount labeled 'reverse tariffs' in early April and scaled back advertising at the start of 2025 after a slowdown in US sales growth that predated Trump's measures. Tweed also supports the islands' £75 million tourism sector. Stornoway welcomed a record 57,000 cruise ship passengers last year. Many of these visitors tour weavers' workshops, where they learn about crofting and the craftsmanship behind Harris Tweed. They also dine in local restaurants and pubs and purchase Harris Tweed jackets or small souvenirs, such as pouches, key chains and hats. For now, says the HTA's Maciver, lobbying Washington as MacRae did in 1957 would be pointless given the current 'uncertainty and movement' surrounding the tariffs. Miriam Hamilton, 32, a weaver in Crossbost, a picturesque village 10 miles from Stornoway, says she does not plan to lower her prices to offset the higher tariffs for US customers. 'I can't absorb the extra costs,' she says.
Fashion Network
2 days ago
- Business
- Fashion Network
Trump tariffs put pressure on Harris Tweed makers and luxury supply chain
Harris Tweed, the centuries-old fabric woven by islanders in Scotland's Outer Hebrides, faces new global headwinds. Trump-era tariffs on wool imports are raising costs for textiles prized by luxury fashion houses worldwide. In December 1957, Reverend Murdoch MacRae traveled from his parish on Lewis and Harris—one of the Outer Hebridean islands off the northwest coast of mainland Scotland—across the Atlantic to confront the US Federal Trade Commission in Washington. At the time, President Dwight D. Eisenhower's tariffs on woolen imports threatened to trigger an exodus of island workers whose livelihoods depended on producing hand-woven tweed jackets, trousers and caps—garments long cherished by Americans, from Wall Street bankers to the Kennedys and Hollywood actors. MacRae's mission to protect the islanders from US protectionism ultimately succeeded. Yet nearly 70 years later, his achievement is being undermined by the trade policies of another figure with Hebridean roots: Donald Trump. 'Trump might portray himself as a man of Scottish heritage; he might have used the family Bible at his inauguration,' says Iain Martin, a fourth-generation weaver, but 'that man doesn't care. He's out for himself, nobody else.' Martin is one of just 150 weavers of Harris Tweed, a fabric made from coarse, woven wool. It has been his life. He started winding bobbins—a now semi-automated part of the process essential for loading yarn onto the loom—when he was five. Now, at age 57, he weaves about 8,000 meters of tweed each year, in addition to managing a 15-acre farm and caring for 600 sheep. He still uses a loom purchased by his grandfather in 1926, housed in a workshop alongside his own stack of family Bibles, a collection of colorful bobbins and a heavy blanket hand-woven by his grandmother. The distinctive diagonal-patterned Harris Tweed, unique to the Hebrides, has become part of the collateral damage caused by the US president's sweeping tariffs on global trade—measures he defends as necessary to protect American jobs. Though tweed exports are small compared to the £59.3 billion total value of UK goods shipped to the US, the island's crofters and weavers still face the same 10% tariff rate imposed on much larger exporters, even after Trump's deal with the UK government reduced levies for some other sectors. They now compete under the same terms as major companies such as automaker Jaguar Land Rover Ltd, Diageo Plc, the consumer products group, and fashion brand Burberry Group Plc. Islanders warn, as MacRae did seven decades ago, that these tariffs threaten a way of life rooted in the 18th century, on remote islands that today are home to around 26,000 people—most of them living on Lewis and Harris. The US president's mother, Mary Anne MacLeod, was once one of those islanders. She grew up in Lewis before emigrating to New York at age 17 in 1930. 'A lot of islanders go to work elsewhere and they never return home, but for people like me, crofting, weaving—it's in the blood,' says Martin. 'That's what draws me to keeping these traditions alive.' Nike sparks a tweed renaissance A 1993 British act of Parliament protects the manufacture of Harris Tweed, stipulating that producers must use pure sheep's wool dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides, weave it by hand at home and finish it in the Western Isles. They then export the fabric to around 55 countries—the US, France, Germany, Italy and Japan are the biggest markets—where designers use it in everything from luxury suits to sneakers and even whisky flasks. The industry has long been sensitive to the whims of American buyers, whose preferences have had an outsized impact on the sector. In the post-war era, purchasing a tailored tweed suit was a rite of passage for many young men. However, when US consumers turned away from wool in favor of lighter fabrics in the 1980s, Hebridean tweed-makers experienced a sharp downturn. Years later, a limited-edition tweed sneaker by Nike Inc. introduced the fabric to a younger audience, sparking a renaissance in the 2000s. The once-derelict Shawbost mill, dating back to the 1920s, was reborn as Harris Tweed Hebrides Ltd. in 2007 to capture some of that renewed US interest. Now the largest of the island's three mills and its biggest private-sector employer, the company generated a turnover of around £9 million in 2023, according to company filings. The US remains its top export market. Approximately 1 million meters of the fabric are produced annually, with the Shawbost mill accounting for about 65% of that total and supplying international brands such as Ralph Lauren Corp., Brooks Brothers and Christian Dior SE. Margaret Ann Macleod, chief executive officer of Harris Tweed Hebrides, describes the 10% tariff as 'hugely concerning,' particularly as it comes on top of higher employment taxes in the UK and against a backdrop of slowing global luxury demand. Demand for the fabric also risks being affected by the high levies the Trump administration imposed on European Union exports. Although the tariffs do not directly impact the Hebridean mills, any increase in the final retail price of garments made with Harris Tweed could prompt US clients to reconsider using the fabric. Last week, the US Court of International Trade declared the Trump tariffs illegal. However, a successful appeal by the White House has delayed a final decision, leaving those affected by the measures still awaiting clarity. 'The worst thing for buyers is being unsure,' Macleod says. 'When there are unknown costs that we can't quantify, it can make the difference between them selecting a British heritage textile or not. They may choose to delay that purchase, reduce the quantity or opt out entirely.' About 15% of Harris Tweed Hebrides' annual fabric production is already sold to Asian clients. The mill is now working to strengthen ties with markets such as South Korea—its fastest-growing market—and Japan, which Macleod will visit later this year as part of a British trade delegation. The company is also reviewing its prices—the cloth retails at £55 per meter for individual consumers—in response to the tariffs. Yet quickly pivoting to new markets is not easy for a 'slow fashion' business, where completing an order can take up to three months. The industry must also step up efforts to combat counterfeiting and raise brand awareness in newer markets like China. 'We're not going to offshore production; we legally cannot do that even if we wanted to,' says Calum Iain Maciver, interim chief executive officer of the Harris Tweed Authority, a statutory body responsible for protecting the cloth's reputation. 'Returning manufacturing plants to the USA is Trump's goal, but so many industries are caught up in that. It's quite a blunt instrument to try to solve a domestic American problem; it really is a sledgehammer.' From the sheep to the shop Producing Harris Tweed is a complex, months-long process that begins with bales of blended pure sheep wool sourced from across the UK, not just the Hebrides. Millworkers dye the wool fibers using one of 60 base colors and then spin them to achieve the fabric's rich hues. They weigh and blend different colored wools according to precise recipes created by the mill's designer to produce a wide range of shades. Next, they send the wool through carding—a mechanical combing process that disentangles and mixes the fibers—creating a candy-floss-like yarn in shades ranging from pinkish red to soft brown or earthy green. Workers then spin the yarn to strengthen it, preparing it to be wound onto bobbins. They arrange thousands of warp threads—a term derived from the Old Norse varp, meaning 'the cast of a net'—side by side lengthwise on the fabric. They then separate the threads into parallel strips and wind them onto a large beam. The mill delivers the prepared yarn and a pattern card to one of the island's self-employed weavers. The weaver introduces the weft colors—the horizontal threads woven through the warp—that create the fabric's distinctive zigzag pattern. After weaving, the mill washes, dries, steam-presses and crops the cloth before preparing it for inspection. If the cloth meets quality standards, the mill stamps it with the Orb certification mark of the Harris Tweed Authority (HTA) and readies it for export. This intricate process employs 300 millworkers and weavers, many of whom live in remote villages across the island. The HTA estimates that the sector also indirectly supports another 100 jobs in restaurants, bars and shops, along with about 1,000 registered local artisans who use Harris Tweed fabric to create and sell clothing and small accessories. 'Harris Tweed is literally woven into the community,' says Macleod. 'The economic fortunes of the islanders have always depended on the sector.' Retailers selling Harris Tweed garments, such as Peter Christian—a £10 million British tailoring brand—are already adapting to the new tariff regime. With US customers accounting for nearly 70% of its tweed suit sales, the company offered a 10% discount labeled 'reverse tariffs' in early April and scaled back advertising at the start of 2025 after a slowdown in US sales growth that predated Trump's measures. Tweed also supports the islands' £75 million tourism sector. Stornoway welcomed a record 57,000 cruise ship passengers last year. Many of these visitors tour weavers' workshops, where they learn about crofting and the craftsmanship behind Harris Tweed. They also dine in local restaurants and pubs and purchase Harris Tweed jackets or small souvenirs, such as pouches, key chains and hats. For now, says the HTA's Maciver, lobbying Washington as MacRae did in 1957 would be pointless given the current 'uncertainty and movement' surrounding the tariffs. Miriam Hamilton, 32, a weaver in Crossbost, a picturesque village 10 miles from Stornoway, says she does not plan to lower her prices to offset the higher tariffs for US customers. 'I can't absorb the extra costs,' she says.
Fashion Network
2 days ago
- Business
- Fashion Network
Trump tariffs put pressure on Harris Tweed makers and luxury supply chain
Harris Tweed, the centuries-old fabric woven by islanders in Scotland's Outer Hebrides, faces new global headwinds. Trump-era tariffs on wool imports are raising costs for textiles prized by luxury fashion houses worldwide. In December 1957, Reverend Murdoch MacRae traveled from his parish on Lewis and Harris—one of the Outer Hebridean islands off the northwest coast of mainland Scotland—across the Atlantic to confront the US Federal Trade Commission in Washington. At the time, President Dwight D. Eisenhower's tariffs on woolen imports threatened to trigger an exodus of island workers whose livelihoods depended on producing hand-woven tweed jackets, trousers and caps—garments long cherished by Americans, from Wall Street bankers to the Kennedys and Hollywood actors. MacRae's mission to protect the islanders from US protectionism ultimately succeeded. Yet nearly 70 years later, his achievement is being undermined by the trade policies of another figure with Hebridean roots: Donald Trump. 'Trump might portray himself as a man of Scottish heritage; he might have used the family Bible at his inauguration,' says Iain Martin, a fourth-generation weaver, but 'that man doesn't care. He's out for himself, nobody else.' Martin is one of just 150 weavers of Harris Tweed, a fabric made from coarse, woven wool. It has been his life. He started winding bobbins—a now semi-automated part of the process essential for loading yarn onto the loom—when he was five. Now, at age 57, he weaves about 8,000 meters of tweed each year, in addition to managing a 15-acre farm and caring for 600 sheep. He still uses a loom purchased by his grandfather in 1926, housed in a workshop alongside his own stack of family Bibles, a collection of colorful bobbins and a heavy blanket hand-woven by his grandmother. The distinctive diagonal-patterned Harris Tweed, unique to the Hebrides, has become part of the collateral damage caused by the US president's sweeping tariffs on global trade—measures he defends as necessary to protect American jobs. Though tweed exports are small compared to the £59.3 billion total value of UK goods shipped to the US, the island's crofters and weavers still face the same 10% tariff rate imposed on much larger exporters, even after Trump's deal with the UK government reduced levies for some other sectors. They now compete under the same terms as major companies such as automaker Jaguar Land Rover Ltd, Diageo Plc, the consumer products group, and fashion brand Burberry Group Plc. Islanders warn, as MacRae did seven decades ago, that these tariffs threaten a way of life rooted in the 18th century, on remote islands that today are home to around 26,000 people—most of them living on Lewis and Harris. The US president's mother, Mary Anne MacLeod, was once one of those islanders. She grew up in Lewis before emigrating to New York at age 17 in 1930. 'A lot of islanders go to work elsewhere and they never return home, but for people like me, crofting, weaving—it's in the blood,' says Martin. 'That's what draws me to keeping these traditions alive.' Nike sparks a tweed renaissance A 1993 British act of Parliament protects the manufacture of Harris Tweed, stipulating that producers must use pure sheep's wool dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides, weave it by hand at home and finish it in the Western Isles. They then export the fabric to around 55 countries—the US, France, Germany, Italy and Japan are the biggest markets—where designers use it in everything from luxury suits to sneakers and even whisky flasks. The industry has long been sensitive to the whims of American buyers, whose preferences have had an outsized impact on the sector. In the post-war era, purchasing a tailored tweed suit was a rite of passage for many young men. However, when US consumers turned away from wool in favor of lighter fabrics in the 1980s, Hebridean tweed-makers experienced a sharp downturn. Years later, a limited-edition tweed sneaker by Nike Inc. introduced the fabric to a younger audience, sparking a renaissance in the 2000s. The once-derelict Shawbost mill, dating back to the 1920s, was reborn as Harris Tweed Hebrides Ltd. in 2007 to capture some of that renewed US interest. Now the largest of the island's three mills and its biggest private-sector employer, the company generated a turnover of around £9 million in 2023, according to company filings. The US remains its top export market. Approximately 1 million meters of the fabric are produced annually, with the Shawbost mill accounting for about 65% of that total and supplying international brands such as Ralph Lauren Corp., Brooks Brothers and Christian Dior SE. Margaret Ann Macleod, chief executive officer of Harris Tweed Hebrides, describes the 10% tariff as 'hugely concerning,' particularly as it comes on top of higher employment taxes in the UK and against a backdrop of slowing global luxury demand. Demand for the fabric also risks being affected by the high levies the Trump administration imposed on European Union exports. Although the tariffs do not directly impact the Hebridean mills, any increase in the final retail price of garments made with Harris Tweed could prompt US clients to reconsider using the fabric. Last week, the US Court of International Trade declared the Trump tariffs illegal. However, a successful appeal by the White House has delayed a final decision, leaving those affected by the measures still awaiting clarity. 'The worst thing for buyers is being unsure,' Macleod says. 'When there are unknown costs that we can't quantify, it can make the difference between them selecting a British heritage textile or not. They may choose to delay that purchase, reduce the quantity or opt out entirely.' About 15% of Harris Tweed Hebrides' annual fabric production is already sold to Asian clients. The mill is now working to strengthen ties with markets such as South Korea—its fastest-growing market—and Japan, which Macleod will visit later this year as part of a British trade delegation. The company is also reviewing its prices—the cloth retails at £55 per meter for individual consumers—in response to the tariffs. Yet quickly pivoting to new markets is not easy for a 'slow fashion' business, where completing an order can take up to three months. The industry must also step up efforts to combat counterfeiting and raise brand awareness in newer markets like China. 'We're not going to offshore production; we legally cannot do that even if we wanted to,' says Calum Iain Maciver, interim chief executive officer of the Harris Tweed Authority, a statutory body responsible for protecting the cloth's reputation. 'Returning manufacturing plants to the USA is Trump's goal, but so many industries are caught up in that. It's quite a blunt instrument to try to solve a domestic American problem; it really is a sledgehammer.' From the sheep to the shop Producing Harris Tweed is a complex, months-long process that begins with bales of blended pure sheep wool sourced from across the UK, not just the Hebrides. Millworkers dye the wool fibers using one of 60 base colors and then spin them to achieve the fabric's rich hues. They weigh and blend different colored wools according to precise recipes created by the mill's designer to produce a wide range of shades. Next, they send the wool through carding—a mechanical combing process that disentangles and mixes the fibers—creating a candy-floss-like yarn in shades ranging from pinkish red to soft brown or earthy green. Workers then spin the yarn to strengthen it, preparing it to be wound onto bobbins. They arrange thousands of warp threads—a term derived from the Old Norse varp, meaning 'the cast of a net'—side by side lengthwise on the fabric. They then separate the threads into parallel strips and wind them onto a large beam. The mill delivers the prepared yarn and a pattern card to one of the island's self-employed weavers. The weaver introduces the weft colors—the horizontal threads woven through the warp—that create the fabric's distinctive zigzag pattern. After weaving, the mill washes, dries, steam-presses and crops the cloth before preparing it for inspection. If the cloth meets quality standards, the mill stamps it with the Orb certification mark of the Harris Tweed Authority (HTA) and readies it for export. This intricate process employs 300 millworkers and weavers, many of whom live in remote villages across the island. The HTA estimates that the sector also indirectly supports another 100 jobs in restaurants, bars and shops, along with about 1,000 registered local artisans who use Harris Tweed fabric to create and sell clothing and small accessories. 'Harris Tweed is literally woven into the community,' says Macleod. 'The economic fortunes of the islanders have always depended on the sector.' Retailers selling Harris Tweed garments, such as Peter Christian—a £10 million British tailoring brand—are already adapting to the new tariff regime. With US customers accounting for nearly 70% of its tweed suit sales, the company offered a 10% discount labeled 'reverse tariffs' in early April and scaled back advertising at the start of 2025 after a slowdown in US sales growth that predated Trump's measures. Tweed also supports the islands' £75 million tourism sector. Stornoway welcomed a record 57,000 cruise ship passengers last year. Many of these visitors tour weavers' workshops, where they learn about crofting and the craftsmanship behind Harris Tweed. They also dine in local restaurants and pubs and purchase Harris Tweed jackets or small souvenirs, such as pouches, key chains and hats. For now, says the HTA's Maciver, lobbying Washington as MacRae did in 1957 would be pointless given the current 'uncertainty and movement' surrounding the tariffs. Miriam Hamilton, 32, a weaver in Crossbost, a picturesque village 10 miles from Stornoway, says she does not plan to lower her prices to offset the higher tariffs for US customers. 'I can't absorb the extra costs,' she says.
Yahoo
26-04-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
The 1 Unexpected Health Benefit Of Playing Pickleball
By now, you've probably seen a headline or two (or 200) labeling pickleball the 'fastest-growing sport in the country.' Pickleball courts, clubs and leagues have popped up all over the country, and nearly 50 million people, or 19% of Americans, picked up a paddle last year, according to the Association of Pickleball Professionals. According to people who play, there are a ton of reasons why pickleball exploded in popularity: it's fun and competitive. It's a great way to make friends, plus it's largely inclusive — people of all ages and skill levels can join in. But perhaps the biggest selling point for playing pickleball is how beneficial it can be for our mental health. A new report from Apple investigated the health benefits of pickleball using data gathered from Apple Watch users who opted into the study and found that playing pickleball is not only an impressive workout that can boost our cardiovascular and metabolic health, it's also associated with lower rates of self-reported depression. Per the study, the self-reported scores of depressive symptoms were 60% lower among frequent pickleball players compared to the general group of study participants. Long story short: racket sports help people work out their body and their mind, making them one of the healthiest physical activities available. 'The potential reasons for this observation could be attributed to a number of different reasons, including the sport's impact on hormones, neuromuscular coordination, resilience and more,' principal investigator of the study Dr. Calum MacRae, a cardiologist and Professor of Medicine at Harvard Medical School, told HuffPost. According to MacRae, sports, including pickleball, provide numerous physical and mental health benefits. When you participate in an aerobic activity like pickleball, your body releases endorphins, or hormones that relieve pain, reduce stress, and boost well-being. Playing pickleball is also a fun and efficient way of meeting the recommended guidance for physical activity (150 minutes of moderate-intensity exercise a week). Physical activity is known to improve quality of life and promote healthy aging, especially in older adults, evidence consistently shows. And, as the Apple report revealed, pickleball games last roughly 90 minutes on average, helping you knock out half the amount of weekly physical activity needed in just one session. Pickleball also gives people the opportunity to stay connected with friends and family or develop new relationships. When people join leagues, for example, they might form a new sense of community and belonging. Plus, it's inclusive: You can play with people of all ages, skill levels and backgrounds. 'Humans thrive when we experience connection, and pickleball allows us to bond with one another through an activity that also physically makes us feel good,' said Emily Hemendinger, an assistant professor in the department of psychiatry at the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus. It can also provide a sense of purpose and fulfillment. 'Playing a sport, such as pickleball, can give people a goal to work towards, whether it's winning a game, meeting people, or improving one's skills,' Hemendinger said. Winning, in particular, can lead to a sense of pride and accomplishment, she added. Another theory from MacRae as to why pickleball can be such a mood booster: playing pickleball outdoors may increase exposure to natural daylight. And the more natural light we're exposed to, the better our sleep quality, activity levels, and overall quality of life are, research suggests. That's not all. The game also requires people to pay attention and think quickly and strategically. If you get distracted, for example, you run the risk of getting hit in the face with the ball or letting down your partner. Physical activities that require strategic thinking promote cognitive functioning, which can help prevent cognitive decline. 'Some studies have even found that sports like pickleball and racket sports can improve memory and processing speed,' Hemendinger said. In short: pickleball not only works out your body, it exercises your mind. Taking care of your brain through thinking and problem-solving activities can help decrease stress and anxiety. 'Any type of mindful movement, especially with others, can improve mood and help your physical and mental health,' Hemendinger said. Landon Uetz, a physical therapist and pickleball instructor on said the pickleball community is very welcoming of new players. Before playing, it can be helpful to watch a video online to get a basic understanding of the rules. And if you're hesitant about stepping onto a court — whether that be due to fear of not knowing the rules, getting hurt or failing — consider getting a lesson, Uetz said. Before you jump into a game, it's worth warming up, either through dynamic stretching or movement exercises (think: jumping jacks, light jogging or lunges). When coming from a sedentary state — whether that's at work, at home or after waking up — it's important to increase circulation throughout your body. A warm-up loosens up your muscles, bones, ligaments and gets ready for activity, which can reduce the risk of pain or injury, Uetz said. If you have any injuries, check in with a health care provider before you give pickleball a go. They may be able to provide some advice as to whether it's safe for you to participate or if there are any modifications you can do during a game to protect from injury. According to Hemendinger, as with all things, moderation is key. 'Doing any physical activity too much may lead to injury or exhaustion,' she said. Listen to your body — if certain muscles start to ache, consider ramping up more gradually. Instead of playing for two hours, for example, try to hit the ball around for 30 minutes, Uetz said. Even short bursts of activity can offer tremendous mental health benefits. 'Whether it's for 15 minutes or 90 minutes, getting out and moving your body mindfully and resetting your nervous system from a stressful day is a reliable stress reliever and coping skill,' Hemendinger said. 6 Stretches To Do First Thing In The Morning, According To Experts 9 Habits That Can Drastically Improve Your Heart Health The Trump Administration's War On Health Care: Latest Updates
