Hail the Wale

More than just a fabric for the fall months, corduroy offers all-season staying power with a rich sartorial history

There’s no mistaking corduroy. No matter its weight or wale, it sits happily alongside tweed and flannel in the lexicon of statement fall fabrics. And perhaps best of all, corduroy is all about making your own rules—there is no prescribed way in which it comes to life.

Mr. Lauren himself has often been seen dressed in a pair of corduroy trousers in a variety of deep, saturated hues, from royal blue to hunter green and merlot. A timeless staple, it’s a fabric seen regularly in the Ralph Lauren archives. On the Fall 1976 runway, a model looked ready for a weekend spent hiking through the foliage in a corduroy anorak, plaid scarf, and red beanie. During the Ralph Lauren 50th Anniversary show, a pair of yellow corduroy trousers worn by Caroline Winberg served as a nod to “senior cords,” a bygone tradition that began at Indiana State University in the early 1920s in which the trousers were emblazoned with mascots, catchphrases, and club membership insignias unique to the wearer. 

And though corduroy can be molded to fit the worlds of sporting, formal eveningwear, and beyond, its roots lie firmly in workwear. Harkening back to the late 18th century, corduroy trousers became the steadfast staple garment in Manchester, England. During the Industrial Revolution, thanks to the rare blend of a hard-wearing weave and unexpected comfort, they took off around the world. “Some of the earliest examples of corduroy I’ve come across have been workwear, particularly French,” Brian Davis, proprietor of the vintage store Wooden Sleepers recalls. “You see these really heavy-duty work jackets and trousers in a hefty black corduroy. They’re usually at least 100 years old.” 

Kurt Cobain and Dave Grohl of Nirvana in London, 1990; The Land Army girls out and about in Reading, circa 1942; Paul Newman, circa 1960
Kurt Cobain and Dave Grohl of Nirvana in London, 1990; The Land Army girls out and about in Reading, circa 1942; Paul Newman, circa 1960

Corduroy’s utilitarian streak continued through World War II, as it often became integrated into the standard issue military uniform. This included the corduroy breeches worn by the Women’s Land Army, as well as the N1 System, one of three complete ensembles designed by the US military for three distinct climates. The N1 ensemble was comprised of gloves, a hat, alpaca-lined overalls, and a waist-length overcoat made of a thin-wale corduroy hailing from Bedford, England (fittingly often referred to as “Bedford Cord”). “It’s what you would wear on the deck of a boat in the freezing cold,” explains Davis. Adding, “The N1 system overcoat is probably one of the most coveted vintage items on the market these days. I think I’ve only seen a handful of them in my life.” 

Post-war, corduroy had its time in the limelight with a wide range of audiences, beginning in the late 1950s, when the fabric became romanticized by the world of academia. This period saw Ivy League students and their professors trading wool blazers for brown corduroy iterations. The 1960s brought with them a much bolder take on corduroy suiting, with the introduction of wide-leg trousers and 5-inch peak lapel blazers in eye-popping shades. Favored by British rockers like Mick Jagger and The Beatles (the latter of whom were once hailed by Edward Heath, the former UK prime minister, for single-handedly saving the British corduroy industry), it defined a sartorial generation.

The popularity of corduroy had its peaks and valleys over the next several decades, with the late ’80s and early ’90s bringing a more relaxed approach to the corduroy trouser; a hallmark of grunge dressing. So relaxed, in fact, that grunge-era stalwarts such as Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder were known to take to the skate park or the stage in baggy, cargo pocket–outfitted versions. During this time, corduroy’s comfort and durability was king.

Today, corduroy is often still worn as an homage to scholarly prep aficionados, musicians, and the original first wave of utilitarian workmen and women. The likes of Wes Anderson—once dubbed “The King of Corduroy” by GQ—treat their corduroy suits as uniforms, sitting at the intersection of comfort, style, and intelligentsia. Celebrity stylist Jeanne Yang, who counts leading men like Robert Downey Jr., Kumail Nanjiani, and Keanu Reeves among her clientele, agrees. “It’s always a great red carpet choice,” Yang tells us. “Its professional look conveys this sense of ease and intelligence.” The same holds true for those of us who don’t find ourselves on the red carpet. Despite corduroy’s utilitarian origins, it’s a fabric that can be dressed up to provide a dose of whimsy and stylish appeal to an ensemble, particularly during the holiday season. 

From the erudite to the downright fantastical, corduroy’s presence endures. It’s in the collar of your weathered waxed cotton jacket, the teddy bear in your child’s nursery, or the favorite pair of trousers one seeks out when the weather grows cold to provide a warming embrace. “A corduroy suit is just a great suit,” David Coggins, author of Men and Style: Essays, Interviews and Considerations, says. “It has texture, it gets better with age, it has those vaguely professorial overtones, and best of all—you can lay down in it.” 

Zachary Weiss is a writer living in New York City. His work has appeared on the websites of Vogue, British GQ, Architectural Digest, and Travel + Leisure.
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