I’ve tried all the above, even spent several months living with a Bedouin tribe – played the tabla drums until my hands caught fire. But the answer for me these days is not in the crackle of the un-laundered loin cloth, or the hubble-bubble of the tribesman’s pipe, it lies rather in the tailor’s shop of Mr Houghton Fairhurst, in Bakewell, home of the tart.

This summer, when our inner punks are asked to look good in neon cardigans, and we stand before the mirror in tight jeans and wonder who the hell we are, for little more than an off the shelf price, a trip through the dales to the home of affordable tailoring is just what the doctor ordered.

Mr Fairhurst already knows that in the trouser department I vote Labour – still, there are many refinements to discuss. The positioning of a ticket pocket; to pleat or not to pleat; three buttons on the cuff? I think so, but what about a double vent on the jacket? Mr Fairhurst raises a well kept eyebrow… “It’s never been done before on a proper sporting jacket, but if Sir wants it to snag on a fence during country pursuits, who am I to say….”

I take his point and do exactly as advised, and it occurred to me in that moment that I am the right kind of customer for Mr F, in the right place, discussing the right issues, but what about my customers? Business genius that I am it occurred to me that I hadn’t really given my choice of customer that much thought. I stood with my trousers around my ankles, surrounded by dusty patterns and swatches of tweed and wondered… somewhere up the A52.

For years we had been as ready to supply 15 fleece gilets to a dog walking club as we had to commission print 30,000 eight colours for a smack on the head – we didn’t have a clue who our customers were or which ones were more profitable, so which way to turn – trade, end user, workwear, fashion?

Well it could be my old friends the trade, the brokers, the Audi TT owners club – handy if you want steady work but may have a medical aversion to paying anything resembling a living print or embroidery price. If you don’t believe me run your prices through some of that clever American costing software and compare them to your trade tariff (have a large scotch, the bible and a box of tissues to hand). Naturally they will be requiring the work three days prior to placing the order so buy yourself a carousel that can spin backwards and control the space/time continuum. Massively in their favour, however, they do know what they’re talking about; you’re less likely to waste a morning trying to explain that a photographic screen print won’t work onto a high viz fleece beanie. This may not sound like a big deal, but if time’s money, you might decide that the trade route has some hidden benefits.

And what about the end user – for some the Holy Grail. You sell them the garment with the print or embroidery, having marked them both up into the financial stratosphere, while your accountant dances about laughing like someone’s dad at a wedding – surely the way forward? The benefits are obvious, but you may have more chance of finding Lord Lucan’s briefcase than an order in early January, so it can be scary. One can also spend a couple of hours explaining stitch counts to the owner of the Blank Expression Van Hire company, who can’t understand why a three foot wide embroidery of Yorkshire on the back of his performance jacket should cost more than the left breaster. Inevitably for most of us it ends up being a mix of trade and end user, but it is important to get someone with a calculator to have a look at the balance – I really should get around to that, in my case better 17 years late than never.

Having decided on the above, do we then specialise in certain areas – should we concentrate on workwear for example, or slip on our crushed velvet loons and lurk in the dark doorways of the fashion boutiques?

Workwear is certainly no longer avoidable for most companies. Back in the day, many of us enjoyed summer jobs on building sites happily protected by a pair of Green Flash safety trainers and a woolly hat as styled by Benny from Crossroads. On a more recent site visit I was expected to wander around looking like I was about to attempt my first space walk, so there’s definitely a demand. In its favour it’s easy enough stuff: “Do you want your logo on the front, the back, or both?’” and off you go. Inevitably, the downside is then that anyone can have a go, and I often see vans waltzing about advertising ‘Workwear polos, embroidered from £2.99’ – bang go the margins.

I’m told by my more workwear associates though that if you pick up the whole order, the safety goggles, chain mail mitts and ear bungs, it’s worthwhile. Maybe it’s also easier to sell if you’re fascinated by technical clothing – if you’re not interested to hear that Krakkens have fitted a longer ruler pocket to their alkali resistant work trouser, the one with reinforced crotch grommets and carpet burn knee pads, then workwear may not be for you.

And let’s not forget fashion darlings. Everyone it seems wants to start their own clothing brand – 17- year-olds on the computer in a haze of cheese and grease in their back bedrooms, bored golf pros with an engineered polo neck concept, and new mums who’ve re-invented the romper suit … they all fancy a bash. The main advantage is it can be a nightmare: a little water based here, a diamanté there, just expand the ink a touch but not that much, and then embroider a pin head sized dot just there… no over there… no I preferred it where it was… This means you should be able to charge a few quid more but do you ever really get it back after all the hours in the Nasa print laboratory?

Having chosen our desired customer, which I presume involves someone who has a basic understanding of maths (don’t look at me), I guess the tricky part is then attracting that kind of business. You’ll have heard all the answers on this one, there’s a business guru in grey slip-ons behind every filing cabinet, but I wonder if Mr Fairhurst has a simple solution – he lures the correct punter by looking the part. In the unlikely event that some spotty Herbert in a Slipknot hood wanders into his shop, he would no doubt demonstrate the time honoured craftsmanship of the Grenson boot by sinking it firmly into the offenders groin – if he could find it in those low slung, just followed through jeans ... don’t get me started on that one!

Cheers,

Paul

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