The Art of Cashmere

24 August 2026

5 min read

A cashmere sweater is finished long before anyone thinks to knit it. The work begins in spring, in the combing sheds, and the decisions made there quietly determine everything that follows.

Where it begins

Cashmere is combed, never shorn. Once a year, as the weather turns, the fine underfleece is worked free by hand — a slow, patient job that yields only a few grams of usable fibre per animal. What arrives at the mill is a mixture of lengths and shades, and it is the sorting that separates a sweater lasting a decade from one that pills in a season.

The longer the fibre, the quieter the garment. Length is what stops a sweater from asking for attention.

Spinning, slowly

We spin at a low twist, which is more expensive and far less forgiving. A tight yarn is easier to knit and harder to love — it holds its shape by force rather than by hand. A softer twist lets the fibres settle into one another over time, so the sweater relaxes to the shape of the person wearing it rather than resisting them.

The finish

Every piece is washed in soft water and pressed by hand, then left to rest before a final check. Seams are joined by linking rather than overlocking, so there is no ridge against the skin. It adds days to the calendar, and it is the difference you feel in the first ten seconds.

Cared for simply — washed cold, dried flat, folded rather than hung — a cashmere piece should outlast the decade it was bought in.

The Journal