Herzog and Fitzcarraldo

10.09.2018

that white linen that started everything

From a casual sight of a linen jacket in a Camden Town market, our mission has become the task of being able to create a different fabric, a new and more comfortable one. That second hand jacket was soft to touch, and the linen it was made of seemed totally different from the linen we all were used to. An idea born from the encounter with a novelty, the search for something that could turn the tables.
A lot of feelings have brought us to conceive this joint objective, in the first place this call of quality passed on to us by the artistic aura of this white garment in an alley in the London Borough of Camden. A study born from the will to impress.
Germany, 1982. The fantasist Werner Herzog enlightens the new German cinema conceiving one of his biggest masterpieces: Fitzcarraldo. The protagonist of the film is Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald, a businessman with the dream of building a big opera house in the small Amazon village of Iquitos. Fitzcarraldo, the name the local residents call him by, is inspired by the figure of a rubber baron who disassembled his ship in order to reach a territory, and rebuilt it beyond a hill. Fitzgerald is a big dreamer, a man confident about his objective, a businessman who believes in fate. For him money is not a goal, but a way to fulfill his own desires. “The dreamer can move the mountain”, confirms the man in a film scene, like he wanted to shout at the world that without imagination you can’t go anywhere. A crazy dream that reflects the one of the director, who managed to complete the filming only after four years. Between rubber trees and the Amazon jungle Fitzcarraldo only wears white linen clothes: the outfit of a sui generis colonial, designed by the master of Sachrang. It’s the ‘80s and the white linen depopulates on the big screen  like in the classical ballets: at the Palais de Beaulieu of Lausanne they make an ecru tutu of it embroidered with tiny crystal applications for Souvenir of Leningrad, Herzog has it worn by Klaus Kinski in a jungle. The white linen of the latter makes a city spirit more exotic, but at the same time enriches a mood in which art and reality identify, just as the same linen identifies class and simplicity.
The simplicity of a garment worn with lightness, on the part of an iconic author who has made determination his strength.
Kinski and Fitzcarraldo, between wrinkled linen and a burgundy scarf, are above all masks of life: Kinski a mad performer, Fitzgerald a dreamer of big enterprises.
The white linen worn in that movie was for us the sudden imagine of a change, the beginning of a world with the potential of an opera house. A white linen jacket, still stained with dust and light to touch, we found it by accident in Camden Town. It was like it confessed to us that our dream had to be to spread our story through a different fabric, just like Herzog wanted to tell about his world through Fitzcarraldo’s life. Like the wooden foundations built on a Peruvian beach, we pictured the basis of our future. A white linen jacket hanging on a stand in the London Borough, for a value to pass on over time.
Herzog and Fitzcarraldo
Herzog and Fitzcarraldo
Herzog and Fitzcarraldo