SAFARI CHIC

Holland and Holland, supplier to those who enjoy the higher end of country pursuits, is gaining a sharper fashion edge under the ownership of Chanel, as its creative director Niels van Rooyen explains. Caroline Davies

Striding across Holland and Holland’s shop floor in Mayfair, past the racks of ornately decorated, neatly stacked shotguns and glass eyed mounts, Niels van Rooyen greets me with a large hand shake and his sing song South African accent. The store emits a glow onto the puddles on the street outside, decked out with polished wooden floors and thick rugs. A giant antler chandelier hangs above the carefully folded rainbow of cashmere jumpers.

“I can’t wait to decorate for next season,” he says, looking up at it, eyes shining, “And fresh heather, garlands on the fire place, fresh apples, yes.” Van Rooyen is the sort of gentleman who grabs life by the horns. Born and bred in South Africa, he left to learn about the luxury trade industry in Europe, initially joining Alfred Dunhill as manager at the flagship store before being headhunted by Chanel. Twenty two years later he is still with them, the enthusiastic bear of a man behind Holland and Holland, the luxurious outfitters for hunters and country gentlemen and women.

Determinedly British, the brand walks the fine line between heritage and fashion, although this has not always been with success. In 2004, when Holland and Holland went on a high fashion tangent, van Rooyen left to join New & Lingwood. Three years later he rejoined as creative director to take the brand back to what he considers are its roots; “tradition, British craftsmanship and fun”.

He is acutely aware that British tradition exports well. His introduction of a lifestyle-based collection – covering before, during and after the shoot – has opened the brand up to a wealth of new clientele, searching for that traditional hunting look.

That said, van Rooyen is the real deal. An experienced shot, I have caught him before a trip back to South Africa (“I go there to get my energy back”), but despite the exclusivity of the range, he is more than happy to spread his knowledge. “I have people flying in who want me to do their whole wardrobe for them,” he says. “They ask, ‘What is the attire if we go stalking? If we go for a walk on shoot, if we go for dinner afterwards?’ It is all about education.”

The collection itself has a gentle quirkiness to it. Holland and Holland were the first to introduce silver hallmark buttons in the shape of cartridges, van Rooyen’s trademark touch. Their women’s tweed has a soft lavender tone, adding femininity to their traditional cut and their reversible women’s boiled wool jacket gives British practicality a central European edge. Van Rooyen has been rewarded for his efforts; sales of his woman’s range are up by 35%. “You take the old foundation, give it a twist and add a little colour. It is about Britishness, it is about humour, quality and practicality,” he says of his collection.

Whizzing through adjectives at the speed of a gazelle, van Rooyen picks his words carefully; he knows his collection and exactly how he wants it described. He tells me proudly that every element of the store is his conception, from the collection down to the window display.

“I have a wonderful team here, but fluff it up to make it mine,” he says. “That isn’t something you can learn, you either have it or you don’t. I love every minute of it.”

As well as an aptitude for embellishment, he has an ear for a story and launches with relish from one tale to another, be it the 75 year olds who knit every stocking by hand or the most recent young British designer he has hunted down to design a motif to decorate his store. His manner and his clothes are precise; some may seem fanciful, but they are purposeful too.

The juxtaposition of chiffon, silks and traditional tweed should clash or at the least compete for attention, but van Rooyen’s use of colour is too subtle to over power. His latest safari collection contains khaki greens, burnt oranges and highlights of cream tusk colours, captivating, but never crass. For men, his Hemingway jacket, while obviously intended for hunting, has a rawness when worn in the city.

“I do not do sales,” he says firmly, “I don’t have to. Everything here is limited, thought through and planned. It takes time.”

His own philosophy dictates his views on the future of luxury. “Luxury has become too accessible. The new luxury is bespoke. Bespoke means it can happen, it can be made. It is as simple as that.” “It takes time. You have to be patient, you grow with the product. It is a very personal thing. That is what I love. The new luxury is about creating a relationship with the client to create something perfect for them. It doesn’t disappoint. We give everything, that is how I breathe, that is how I live.” We take a turn around the store and pause in front of a glass cabinet, displaying rows of intricately decorated guns, the company’s original forte. “The gun is the inspiration. Take the 700, my favourite. It took seven and half years to make, the art work took four and a half, it’s a 1000 gram bullet and each shot costs you £150. To me, that is a work of art.” Painstaking attention to detail and a touch of eccentricity; what could be more British?