Circa 1930s, a French-made Brown Wool Hunting Jacket.
A special arrival.
The hunting jacket stands as a staple of French workwear.
It is said that during its era, these were favored by the upper classes as sporting attire and leisurewear rather than workwear.
Rarely conceived as work clothing, and worn only by a select few for sporting and recreational pursuits, these pieces were rarely produced in volume by any single maker. Instead, they were crafted as bespoke garments—a luxury unto themselves.
When one thinks of French workwear hunting jackets, cotton piqué and corduroy are the fabrics that typically come to mind.
Yet this particular example is distinguished by its brown wool composition—a rare fabric choice among the many hunting jackets in circulation.
Thicker than cotton or piqué, the fabric limits its seasonal utility. Yet come autumn and winter, it will undoubtedly prove its worth.
It bears the beloved hallmarks of French tailoring: a generously rounded collar, horn buttons, and an A-line silhouette.
As befits a hunting jacket, the back is fitted with a large game pocket for game.
This particular example is what one might call a boro piece.
Soiling, abrasion, small punctures, and hand repairs are visible throughout—evidence of the harsh labor and historical circumstances of its era.
A philosophy antithetical to the modern practice of mending one garment to be worn for decades. Rather, it speaks to a very different time—one in which repair was reflexive and continuous.
At a moment when phrases like "mass production and mass disposal" dominate discourse, this piece whispers something quietly eloquent about the care of things. One feels it acutely in every fiber.
In an era before widespread mechanization.
Hand repairs appear throughout, and some may regard this work as "rough" or imprecise.
Yet the thought and labor embedded in each stitch endures in physical form to this day—something both profound and beyond price.
This piece will not appeal to everyone. Tastes will diverge sharply. Still, we believe in championing such "genuine vintage"—pieces that bear the weight of their own history.
Deadstock examples in pristine condition certainly hold their appeal. But for those who seek to taste vintage in its truest form, we encourage you to consider a piece like this.
A single boro piece, added to an otherwise refined wardrobe, will lend depth and a certain knowing quality to any ensemble.
No size tag remains, though the piece appears to fall in the L to XL range.
The true measurements suggest a generous fit. Those of larger frame should find no issue. Those of smaller stature can wear it with an easy, oversized ease. In this way, it speaks to a wide range of bodies.
Fading, soiling, abrasion, loose threads, small holes, and repair marks are present throughout—the piece reads unmistakably as worn and lived-in. Yet no damage exists that would impair wearing. Further repair and wear can only deepen its character.
The hunting jacket is among the essential pieces in any discourse on French vintage. Those rendered in wool represent, perhaps, the highest expression of the form.
This is not something money alone can procure. Future availability is uncertain.
Worthy both as everyday wear and as a collection piece.
A specimen seldom encountered anywhere in the world. If this appeals to you, we would suggest not letting the moment pass.
