The wellington boot may carry the name of one of Britain’s most famous soldier-statesmen, but even he might have had trouble negotiating the fashion minefield that surrounds the wearing of waterproof footwear. For a welly is no longer just a piece of moulded rubber to keep your feet dry; it’s the latest stylish accessory for the discerning would-be toff about town.
This trend, exemplified last week by the news that Lord Mandelson has been given a pair of £140 French-made Le Chameau Vierzonord boots by his good friend, the author Robert Harris, is gathering momentum. Fuelled by the persistent wet weather and autumn/winter’s strong rural catwalk trends — tweeds, woollens, forest greens, browns, feathers, riding boots — sales of wellies are on the rise, consolidating the already popular appeal of the It-welly.
The It-welly is the ultimate in practical style wear. Not only does it keep your fashionable feet dry as you tread the city streets (giving rise to the term “Hoxton farmer”, a new variant on “Chelsea farmer”, that is to say a person entirely decked out in tweeds who has never so much as ventured beyond the M25), it also implies that at any moment you may be off to your vast country estate for a spot of shooting, followed by sloe gin and chipolatas out of the back of the Range Rover.
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If this is your secret social fantasy, then a pair of grubby black gumboots, as modelled by the inimitable Compo, just won’t do. It has to be Le Chameau, Aigle or Hunter, or perhaps Burberry or even Prada, who featured a pair of red knee-high wellies in their autumn/winter 09 collection.
The irony of Lord Mandleson, famously the most urban (and stylish) member of new Labour, sporting such an aspirational item of rural upper-class footwear in the run-up to an election that the Government intends to fight along class lines is self-evident. Truth is, Lord Mandelson is not alone. This sort of welly one-upmanship has both a strong practical and cultural background.
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Sparked by the festival chic of the mid-Noughties, the It-welly is the trend that won’t go away. Since that first moment in the sun (or mud) in 2005, when Kate Moss wore a pair of Hunters to Glastonbury, the brand has reached out beyond its traditional Sloane Ranger base to a new breed of fashionistas. According to Hunter’s managing director, Peter Taylor, it currently sells about 1,000 pairs a day, and business has more than doubled in the past two years. In June this year a crocodile-skin version, in collaboration with Jimmy Choo, hit the stores, a snip at £250 a pair. Today, they launch the Carnaby, described as a “sleek, animal-embossed welly”.
Now, however, it seems that Hunter has a serious rival in the distinctive zippered Le Chameau. What Le Chameau lacks in patriotic appeal (Hunter holds two royal warrants, and Lady Diana Spencer famously wore a pair in early photo opportunities with the Prince of Wales), it more than makes up for in credibility. Not only is it popular both with the chic country set and aspirational rural celebrities such as Madonna and Elizabeth Hurley, it is also the choice of those who make their living from the soil, such as rangers, keepers and Alan Titchmarsh.
According to Rachel Jones, of Scats country stores, the largest retailer of wellingtons in Britain, while most farmers wear old-school black rubber boots for everyday chores (Bullseye are the bestselling brand), Le Chameau or Aigle are the choice for recreational pursuits. “For shooting, everyone likes to be seen in expensive wellies with zips — ideally with the zip undone because then it looks like
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you’ve done so much shooting that you’ve knackered the zip,” says Ms Jones. “The more beaten up, the more authentic.” Jamie Oliver wears his Chameaus with the zip undone.
At Petersham Nurseries in Richmond, well-heeled yummy mummies favour Ilse Jacobsen’s wellington boots (£105; they recently ordered an extra-large size for the local bad boy about town, Ronnie Wood). Gwyneth Paltrow wears hers laced up, though she’s not faithful — she also has a pair of Tretorn lace-up wellies (£76). Young trendies, meanwhile, are catching on to the Italian Superga welly (£43).
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Despite Hunter’s undisputed commercial success, there are those who believe that the brand has lost credibility. Certainly, no serious rural person would be seen dead in a coloured or patterned welly. “The Aigle Parcours is a very strong seller, and in upmarket shooting circles the Le Chameau Chasseur \ is practically compulsory,” says Ms Jones. “But the biggest seller for us by far is still the Border, a no-nonsense farmer’s welly retailing at under £15: hardly a fashion statement, but who cares when you are standing ankle deep in dung all day.”
Country credibility aside, Hunter’s business model still has commercial appeal: at the beginning of November, Aigle launched the limited-edition Miss Juliette welly, a black rubber boot studded with Swarovski crystals costing up to £300. It is shifting like the proverbial hot rubber. In the war of welly one-upmanship, it seems that the battle has only just begun.