What's in the Selvedge Wardrobe: Polly Leonard

After earning a degree in Design from the Glasgow School of Art and a Master’s in Fine Art from the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia, Polly Leonard taught textiles for ten years before founding Selvedge in 2003. Driven by a desire to create a magazine as beautiful as the textiles featured within its pages, Polly maintains a hands-on approach to every aspect of the magazine and the brand.

Years later, Polly's passion for textiles remains as strong as ever. She continues to relish the opportunity to connect with makers, subscribers, and customers, sharing their mutual enthusiasm for the craft.

Text courtesy of Polly Leonard

After promoting sustainable textile production for more than two decades, the environment is finally on the agenda. However, the textile industry has spent the last two hundred years hiding from the responsibility for the consequences of its exploitative practices, and it can be hard to unravel. It is more complicated than is revealed at first glance, with many unforeseen consequences hidden in the long and complex textile supply chain. Consumers assume giving unwanted clothes to a charity shop is a good thing to do. However, much of this waste is shipped to parts of Africa, destroying the local textile economy and causing immense environmental destruction.

I keep things simple and focus on fibre. A swimsuit is the only thing in my wardrobe made from fossil fuel fibre. I choose natural fibres for their environmental credentials and because they feel wonderful—soft and warm, crisp and cool—the latter is particularly important for someone my age.

I love contrasting textures in an outfit, such as a crisp cotton shirt worn under a voluminous cashmere wrap. I tend not to wear fitted clothing, preferring dresses that drape from the shoulder. This can be a tall order: the right texture, weight, and colour. If any of these qualities are a shade off, the garment will end up unworn in the back of the wardrobe. So, apart from a couple of brands, I love Daniela Gregis and Injiri, whose collections are always divine but sadly beyond my budget. I tend to make most of my clothes. It can be easier to find exciting cloth, vintage French linen sheets, Indian Khadi cotton, or Irish boiled wool and create something that works for me in shape and fit.

Over the years, my body has changed from angular and willowy to much softer and rounder. My colouring has changed, too, from golden blond to silver. Once, I could wear hot tomato red as an accent against a navy blue coat; now, I need a pop of cool fuchsia. I still wear predominantly navy, as black is too dark for my complexion. Having a go-to colour works for me, worn with white in the summer and rich jewel shades in the winter.

The new product passports will enable us to trace the journey of a garment before it reaches our wardrobe. Imagine for a moment, what if we, as consumers, were recorded onto the passport and responsible for that garment's life from the point of purchase until we sold it on and passed on the responsibility or until it decomposed? Suppose the garment was made from fossil fuel fibre. Would our children inherit the responsibility, which they will, but imagine for a moment if that responsibility was tied directly to a named person—food for thought.