A raglan-sleeve Harrington jacket by GRENFELL, which we date to around the 1960s.
And this one was made to the special order of "Pozzi & Co.", the long-established Milanese outfitter — a piece one does not often meet.
Speak of Grenfell and most of what appears on the market is the Golfer jacket.
This piece, however, has ribbing in a contrasting material at both collar and hem, and that alone gives it an expression so different you would hardly take it for the same brand.
The story begins in the 1920s, at a mill in Burnley, Lancashire, in the north-west of England.
Walter, at the head of "Haythornthwaite & Sons", wove extra-fine Egyptian cotton at the frankly unreasonable density of some 600 threads to the square inch.
No rubberising, no resin coating — the idea was to close the gaps between the yarns themselves and so keep out wind and rain.
This was the birth of the cloth later known as Grenfell Cloth.
The cloth took its name from "Sir Wilfred Grenfell", the missionary doctor who gave his life to the medical care of fishing communities in the far northern Labrador.
He chose it as a cloth that could withstand sub-zero sea winds, and his name passed to the brand itself.
In time the cloth clothed the backs of Everest expeditions, was spoken of alongside the records of polar exploration, and came to receive a Royal Warrant.
Sewn into this piece is the woven label known as the "Mountain Tag".
On an unbleached ground, in brown thread, are woven a snow-capped peak and the silhouette of a climber setting out for it.
Above sits the royal arms and a single line: "MANUFACTURERS OF GRENFELL CLOTH".
The whole of the history just described is condensed into this one small label.
And directly below it.
A label on a cherry-pink ground, laid over with red crowns and crests, into which "Pozzi & Co." is woven in flowing script.
"FORNITORE REALE" — by appointment to the Italian royal household. Then "ABBIGLIAMENTO MILANO" and "15, Corso Vittorio Emanuele": an outfitter who kept his shop at number 15 of the great Milanese thoroughfare that runs from the Duomo.
The British crown, and the Italian crown.
The arms of two royal houses, set one above the other inside a single body panel. That fact alone would surely be enough.
And yet a piece with such a lineage is, of all things, a Harrington.
I will say frankly that one rarely encounters this pattern in Grenfell.
The collar first. It is a turn-down collar worked in knitted rib, in a marled greige carrying slightly more red than the body cloth.
The ridged knit sets up a clear contrast against the smooth cloth, and whether you stand the collar or lay it flat, a soft thickness remains at the neck.
The front zip is by "AERO".
A long-established British zip maker, and the stamp itself tells you something of the period.
The brass teeth have sunk with use to a quiet dark brown, and the four letters "AERO" are struck crisply into the elongated plate of the slider.
Flap pockets sit at either hip.
The openings are cut on the slant, and the points of the flaps come to a sharp angle.
The cuffs follow the same idea: tab cuffs, with two buttons set vertically on a pointed placket.
Fastening with buttons rather than drawing in with rib is a point that clearly separates this from the G9 line of Harringtons.
And the hem, which is irregular again.
Seen from behind, the centre is a self-fabric hem band, with rib let in only at either side.
By not drawing the whole circumference into rib, the hem keeps its fall. Here is the source of that "different expression" I mentioned at the outset.
The sleeves are raglan, so no seam runs across the top of the shoulder.
It will therefore settle along your own shoulder line.
The material is Grenfell Cloth, 100% cotton.
Look closely and you will see fine twill lines running regularly up to the right. What is striking is how tightly closed that weave is.
Run a finger over it and it is smoother than one would believe cotton could be, and yet it pushes back a little.
It is that dense, faintly springy hand particular to Grenfell Cloth of the older years.
This cloth softens as the fibres settle with wear.
The ridges of the twill gradually begin to hold light, and the marks of your own movement enter at the elbows and sleeve heads. The moment the stiffness leaves it is, I think, when this cloth is at its best.
The colour is a "beige" like dry sand.
A mid tone that commits neither to yellow nor to grey, faded very slightly with age, now carrying a warmth close to milk tea.
Into that come the reddish greige of the rib, the amber buttons, the smoked brass of the zip.
That everything is gathered in the same "colour of time" is, I think, the virtue of this piece. Mix one new thing in here and the harmony would collapse at once.
Beige is a colour that reduces the number of moves the wearer must make.
A white shirt, grey trousers, loafers below. That alone is quite enough.
If anything, the less you introduce, the further forward the texture of this cloth will come.
Conversely, it is an interesting piece worn with a black roll-neck or a charcoal knit, deliberately raising the contrast.
The lightness of the Harrington pattern, and the dignity of Grenfell Cloth.
You can move between those two faces by changing a single layer beneath, so its range is wider than you might imagine.
There is no size marking, but I should say it corresponds to roughly a Japanese "M to L".
The measurements too show a balance that settles nicely over a shirt or a knit.
Being raglan, it is a pattern that forgives a shoulder width that is not exact, and it should suit a wide range of builds.
There are marks of use — soiling, rubbing, small holes — but no damage that would affect wearing, so there is plenty of life in it yet.
One last point of interest.
Italy abolished the monarchy by referendum in 1946.
Which is to say, no shop can newly claim the title "FORNITORE REALE". This cherry-pink label is the lingering trace of a time when that institution was still alive.
Grenfell is still with us, but cloth from the Mountain Tag era, made moreover to the special order of a Milanese royal warrant holder, and cut as a Harrington besides.
When these three might next align in a single piece, I honestly cannot say.
Cloth approved by one crown, sold by a shop approved by another.
To think that such a time genuinely existed — does it not warm you a little?