Photography Rae Martins Ashton

How designer Adam Jones finds warmth in working class cornerstones

Deptford High Street’s butchers, fishmongers, and fruit sellers – plus pints in the pub and car boot sales – inspired the cult Welsh creative’s latest collection

“The best ideas definitely come to me when I’m at the pub,” Adam Jones says as he takes a sip of his pint. Beer, boozers, and British culture are the ragged thread that runs through his work; the clash between the comfort of home and the chaos of the pub woven into signature beer towel sweater vests, football scarves, and lace tabards that look like they’ve been crafted from your granny’s tablecloth. 

Jones has a knack for turning one person’s tat into another’s fashion treasure, taking seemingly mundane, everyday relics – whether that’s discarded nos canisters or old beer towels – and twisting them into clothes that encapsulate an artfully dishevelled nostalgia. He sources a lot of his materials from Deptford’s car boot sales, even though, he says, “they’re not real boot sales. The Deptford one is good, but compared to the ones in Wales, they’re a bit too curated.” He enjoys the process of sifting through lots of stuff to find the hidden gold. It goes back to an adolescence spent scouring charity shops in his Welsh hometown for “punky grandad clothes” that no one else at school would have.

For his most recent collection, Jones looked to the timeless uniforms of pub-goers up and down Britain during their working day, when they’re on the factory floor, behind the till, or sitting at a desk earning cash to pay for pints. Specifically, he drew from the red and white striped aprons worn by butchers and fishmongers at Deptford market, which he also frequents on a weekly basis. “I like seeing normal, working class stuff that I recognise,” he says. “I find it visually exciting because it's something I remember and it means something to me.”

The intimate show was set in an old-fashioned function room where guests gulped cans of Skol lager as they kicked back on red velvet sofas. A recording of Salford bard John Cooper Clarke reading his poem I Wanna Be Yours kicked things off, before the first model stepped out in a striped top draped like a cape over straight leg blue jeans. The clothes were an ode to simpler times in Britain’s pre-internet past. Buckfast beer towel skirts clashed with mega-cropped nipple-baring rugby shirts. Aprons and shirts in red and white stripes evoked butchers and fishmongers down at the market and patterned tank tops depicted chintzy floral arrangements and horses. The mish-mash styling drew on local characters from around Wales and Deptford, like the village priest who referees the footie team on a Saturday morning or the Elton John impersonator who entertains every Friday at the social club. 

 The collection was a continuation of Jones’ love affair not just with the pub, but also with a nostalgic version of Britain’s past where you could spend an evening down the boozer without a smartphone in sight. This was felt most strongly in the beer towel pieces which, Jones says, aren’t going anywhere any time soon. After all, if there’s one thing Jones has become known for, it's his signature sweater vests plastered with Carlsberg, Guinness, and Stella logos. The only question left to ask is: What you having? 

Below, we caught up with Jones to chat local characters, car boot sales, and pub red flags. 

Hey Adam! What inspires you and what was the inspiration behind this particular collection?

Adam Jones: It is always the same inspiration. I know what I like. It’s always inspired by a nostalgia for simpler times in Britain and things I remember from growing up in Wales. The clashing of the countryside with moving to the city. Things that I see in London that remind me of things from when I was growing up. I think life was simpler before the internet and social media and that’s something I long for. It's a kind of fake nostalgia because I grew up in the age of computers. I'm a 90s/00s child, but I have this nostalgia for how my parents grew up.

The collection includes local characters like the village priest who referees on a Saturday or the local Elton John impersonator. Did you create your characters from your imagination or are they inspired by real people? 

Adam Jones: A bit of both. Where I grew up in Wales was full of crazy characters and now I'm living in Deptford in South London there are so many wild characters. Some are made up. Some are ones I remember.

You said that growing up, it was embarrassing to be interested in clothes and how you look. How would you describe the way you dressed as a teenager?

Adam Jones: I was a very quiet, shy child, but I had this strange confidence in how I looked. I had a boldness or confidence about dressing strangely. I used to look where other people didn’t so I wore clothes I found in car boot sales or charity shops. People would feel embarrassed to go to charity shops. I wanted to look different to others. I knew that my peers would never go there. My style was very punky granddad, I would say.

“What makes a good pub? The carpet. It definitely has to be carpeted. You need locals. You need regulars. No fancy modern fruity ales, just good cheap boring lager” – Adam Jones

You have repurposed beer towels and nos canisters in the past. How are found materials a part of the collection? 

Adam Jones: It's predominantly found materials. Most of them come from the car boot sale where I live on Deptford High Street. You've got the bar towels again, blankets, footie scarves from a charity shop. We used granny's ceramic plates found at the car boot sale to make badges and brooches.

You are known for your beer towel sweater vests. Does this collection expand on that aesthetic? 

Adam Jones: Yeah, definitely. I'm still not done with them. There are still some beer towels left in the world that I want to use. I think for many more years, I will still use beer towels in some way. It's quite nice to have a signature that people depend on you for. I don't want to just completely change. I want things that customers have bought from me in the past to not feel old or outdated. The new sweater vests that go on sale are just adding to my back catalogue of work, like an artist in a way. 

One of the inspirations behind this collection is the school uniform. How do you think growing up wearing a school uniform has influenced your approach to fashion and design? 

Adam Jones: Growing up, we all hated our school uniform, didn't we? Tried to change it and inject a bit of style into it. As I'm getting older, I just want to wear a crisp, blue shirt and some black trousers. I long for a uniform sometimes just so I don't have to think about what I'm wearing. I'm so busy thinking about what I want my customer to wear that I long for a school uniform.

How do you feel about the appropriation of working class fashion aesthetics by non-working class people?

Adam Jones: That's a tough one. I'm very working class so I feel comfortable about working with it because it's something I know. You can design from what you know, and that's what I know. I understand there's an element of poverty porn with some people, but the fashion industry is always going to have problems and people are always going to do things that don't fit. I find it visually exciting to see because it's something I remember and it means something to me. I like seeing normal, working class stuff that I recognise.

Your most famous pieces are made from everyday found materials, but they’re made to order or come in limited quantities which gives them a feeling of luxury. What does luxury mean to you?

Adam Jones: It's not the most expensive handbag or the most expensive item or the biggest brand. It's something special that you like and that you want to keep forever or for a long period of time and pass down. If you like it and you keep it then that's so special and it's a luxury in itself. Not in the sense of the price, but in the rarity of it.  

Why did you choose to show your collection now rather than during fashion week?

Adam Jones: I just don't think we need to be a part of fashion week. I’m not interested. I think my work is strong enough that I don't need to pay someone to show it. If people really want to come, they'll come. I wouldn't say I'm anti-fashion week because I love going to my friends' shows, but I always look back to the YBAs in the '90s. They did things on a shoestring in their own way outside of the system and I think it's more punk to do it that way. I'm quite happy to stand outside. It also means people have got more time to come and there's less competition.

“I'm very working class so I feel comfortable about working with it because it's something I know. You can design from what you know, and that's what I know. I understand there's an element of poverty porn with some people, but the fashion industry is always going to have problems and people are always going to do things that don't fit” – Adam Jones

The collection is rooted in your background, experiences, and nostalgia. What was the research process like? 

Adam Jones: There's never really a start and stop for me. I already know the pieces I want to make next year. Every day is research and every day is inspiring. I don't tear things out of magazines and make sketches. It's more making notes and taking photos of things I see. Everyday I'm constantly researching and designing in my head.

Where do you feel most inspired?

Adam Jones: The best ideas definitely come to me when I'm in the pub. It's the only time I can take my mind off things. Or just before bed when you want to get to sleep. That's when everything comes.

When you’re in the pub, what is the optimum number of drinks for you to feel most inspired?

Adam Jones: Three pints. No spirits or wine. They tip me over the edge.

What are some of your earliest memories of the pub?

Adam Jones: The smell of stained carpets, salt and vinegar crisps, cigarette smoke. That weird background noise of a football game when you don't understand alcohol or smoking or even football. It was very confusing when I was young. I wasn't interested in any of that as a child. I didn't like it, but I had to go with my dad when he wanted to watch football. I didn't really get into pubs until later in life, but then, obviously, I became obsessed.

What makes a good pub?

Adam Jones: The carpet. It definitely has to be carpeted. You need locals. You need regulars. No fancy modern fruity ales, just good cheap boring lager.

What are your pub red flags that would warn you a pub wasn’t so good?

Adam Jones: Kids, dogs, and the smell of Sunday lunch.

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