Our founder, Mark Francis, talks to himself

Ahead of our launch, we’ve chosen to interview ourselves. And by “we” I refer to the royal We, because in reality, there’s just me, talking to myself. Without further ado…

First of all, some definitions. What is “cosmopolitan tailoring”?

I use the word cosmopolitan in both the literal sense of world citizenship and also in the Diogenes sense to refute any attempts to make me claim allegiance to one identity or another. I use the term “cosmopolitan tailoring” to contrast against “traditional tailoring” and its claims to universality.

While I appreciate the romance behind the idea of tradition, it’s also anathema to the things I want: growth, progress, change. “Traditional” raises further questions about who wants to maintain this tradition and for what reason.

OK. Remind me of how this relates to clothing again?

In London, where I’m based, outside of a professional context, the iconography of the traditional suit is one associated with gentlemen’s clubs and fair haired men with pinky rings. These aren’t things I aspire to nor can ever hope to emulate. 

Cosmopolitan tailoring, as embodied by the Meridian Suit, is a blank slate, open to interpretation, one that allows its wearer the freedom to self-define or to eschew definition altogether. By wearing a Meridian Suit, you also participate in the co-creation of its history and iconography.

You say the Meridian Suit is a blank slate but doesn’t it riff off the Trachten or Nehru or any other stand collar jacket?

The stand collar is an archetype and the Meridian is our expression of it in the same way Savile Row tailors have a house style. The combination of curved collar, side slits, clean back, half-elasticated waistband, bagged cuffs, not to mention the overall fit and construction, is unique to us, and that’s before we even get to fabrics and finishings.

More importantly, the stand collar doesn’t have a singular iconography in the way that traditional tailoring does in the form of the gentleman. Stand collars inhabit the negative space formed by traditional tailoring and have been worn by anyone from royals to socialists, politicians to alpine dwellers.

In general, I find the space outside of any in-group to be far more interesting, which is why this garment started with a stand collar.

What made you decide to start a fashion brand?

I got married a few years ago and was adamant about not wearing a business suit since, as an ex-banker, suits made me think of work. I also wanted to make the statement that even though I was participating in such a conventional rite, I wasn’t looking to conform to convention. I suppose this is where the seeds of the idea that became the Meridian Suit were planted.

In 2019, I jumped off the corporate ladder without a plan and spent some time soul-searching. I was at a crossroads, and even though I knew how risky it was to try to make it on my own, the alternative, which was to spend the rest of my life toiling away in service of someone else’s dream, seemed so much worse. So I liquidated my savings, registered the company, and here I am.

And who is this brand for?

My brand archetype is a Byronic hero, a career diplomat, or maybe an antiquarian. But really, this is a brand for anyone who wants to take a stand against boring, tweedy, ossified tailoring and everything that it represents.

What are some of the hurdles you’ve faced so far?

Covid, obviously. But also a number of deaths in the family, including the death of my father in December 2020, which made me want to give up.

Self-employment has also introduced me to the worst boss I’ve ever had: myself. I am simultaneously relentlessly perfectionistic and plagued by debilitating self-doubt. At the same time, I’m slowly starting to settle into a rhythm and have met some incredibly talented people here in London who have become my mentors. Looking back, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come from where I started.

“Made in London” and by extension “Made in the UK” is part of your tagline; why is local manufacturing so important for the brand?

England is the birthplace of tailoring, and since the Meridian Suit is still a genre of tailoring, it only makes sense to tap into the resources and skills that have developed here over centuries. There’s also something subversive about utilizing the same resources of a Savile Row tailor to create something that departs from what has previously been held up as a paragon of civility to the exclusion of all else.

I also wanted Heron’s Ghyll to be grounded in a sense of place, the place being Britain, which is why I named it after a hamlet in the English countryside. There are many Britains but mine is the Britain of subculture and counterculture, the birthplace of punks, goths, the Mods, and Phoebe Philo, the place that spawned the establishment as we know it and its most vociferous critics. It makes sense to be iconoclastic here.

You said the name Heron’s Ghyll was named after a place in the English countryside -- why that particular place? Why not Old Holbrook or, like, Nether Wallop?

That’s a secret I’ll carry with me to the grave.

Part of it has to do with my admiration for the heron, which I find to be a remarkably regal bird with its slender legs and magnificent wingspan.

Interestingly, a heron visited me throughout 2020 and I have the pictures to prove it. At first, the superstitious part of me wondered if these visits were ominous, which as it turns out, they were. But after doing some research on their symbolism, I realized that the message they brought was one that I needed to hear.

They’re solitary birds and so the message here is one of self-determination and self-reliance, of following one’s own heart instead of heeding the promptings of others. When hunting, they also lie in wait and keep so still that fish mistake their legs for reeds, then BAM! They move at the blink of an eye to spear their dinner. Here, the message is one of patience, of observing before acting, and of seizing opportunities when they arise.

In hindsight, I think the heron is the perfect totem for a brand that’s trying to carve its own path slowly and purposefully.

Heron’s Ghyll founder Mark Francis wearing Taupe Brown Linen Relaxed Nehru Suit Jacket, Black Linen Nehru Jacket, and White Combed Cotton Relaxed-Fit T-Shirt. Portraits by Greg Waterfield.