Daniel Hanson is a small but significant, British producer of the highest-quality menswear. They fit right into the PS wheelhouse, so to be honest I’m surprised we’ve never covered them.
Hanson make dressing gowns in Nottingham and have done since 1987. At their height they were a factory of 60 people. They made the gowns for all the big US department stores – Neiman Marcus, Barneys, Bergdorf Goodman as well as brands like Paul Stuart. And in the UK they supplied Harrod’s, which was their first account back in 1988. Apparently Daniel (above, in the early ’90s) ran into the nightwear buyer on a train.
Today the US department stores have all switched to big brands or gone downmarket, although Hanson still sell to Harrod’s. And they’ve smaller collaborations with the likes of Paul Smith (a Nottingham connection) as well as developing their own direct-to-customer model.
This, of course, has been the pattern of the past 20 years, and one Permanent Style has enjoyed supporting. Quality manufacturers have been able to connect directly to customers through the rise of e-commerce and then social media, and as a result developed sustainable platforms for their craft as the wholesale model was eroded.
Indeed, the Hanson family are something of a personal representation of that journey. When Daniel Hanson died in 2019 (above) the business passed to his two sons, Nicholas and Julian, the first of which now handles the design and the latter sales and PR. They’ve tripled the business since then, moving slowly away from wholesale.
There are now 12 people working in the Nottingham workshop, and the clients divide fairly evenly between wholesale under the Daniel Hanson label (eg at Harrod’s), making for other brands (known as CMT, cut make and trim), and direct orders with their customers. The latter are all made to order, so there’s lots of room for bespoke adjustments.
There’s also a shop on Savile Row, at least for the moment. The Hanson team were originally offered a pop-up space on the Row in one of the spaces we used to use for Permanent Style pop-ups back in the day. It was supposed to be for six months, but over two years later they’re still there.
They will be leaving at some point in the first half of this year though, so it’s worth popping in if you have a chance – and want to see the gowns first hand.
If I’m honest I’d walked past the shop several times, but wasn’t sure if the style of the gowns was for me. That’s my fault: I should have known to look closer. It’s a common issue with a lot of specialist makers: because they can make anything, there’s a lot of everything; you need to spend a bit more time looking for the thing you want.
Daniel Hanson also experiment more than most. Recent collections have included designs by the founder of Sex Skateboards, Louis Slater (below), and before that one with Nottingham artist DILK that featured hand-painted multi-coloured panels. Nicholas Hanson himself has a piece hanging up that he made from beer mats.
But they also make simple, simply luxurious gowns. There’s lots of plain cashmere here and silk, there’s good velvet and Maison Hellard linen. There are also lovely, subtle patterns like the de Le Cuona fabrics we first covered at Emma Willis.
And the make is what you’d expect from a luxury dressing gown, plus a bit. You get all the delicate piping and hand-knotted fringes (if that’s what you want) but Hanson also like to use silk linings on most gowns.
“Silk is nicer than viscose, particularly against the skin,” says Julian. “Viscose never really softens in the same way. Silk can be more delicate, but that’s only an issue if someone wears them with a belt, or carries keys around a lot.”
I was also particularly interested in a machine-washable gown they make, which is Hellard linen on the outside and cotton lining inside. “The way to make it machine washable is to pre-shrink all the fabrics, use cotton lining, and remove any fusing or interlining around the edges,” says Julian.
The gown’s combination of cotton and linen looks like it would be particularly nice in warm weather. The design is also illustrative of that earlier design point – the example in the shop has bright orange lining and piping, against earthy windowpane linen; my style would be to have both lining and piping more tonal.
Discussing the finer points of that gown also brought us onto the idea of patterns, of different cuts.
This isn’t something I’d really considered with dressing gowns because they all seem so uniform and basic in shape. But there are some fairly big differences.
“One way to think about it is that some gowns are made for parading, others for lounging on the sofa,” says Julian. “You wouldn’t really want the two cut or made the same, because the intended effect is different.”
A smarter, more parading gown would have a narrower body for instance, and so a smaller wrap when it’s belted. This is neater, but allows less room for movement. Some smarter ones will also have a dart in the waist, and a shoulder that is cut squarer, with a little bit of roping.
A more relaxed gown, by contrast, will usually be cut with a more dropped shoulder, no roping, a bigger shape and less fusing.
It’s not like comparing the structure of bespoke suits, but once these various details are pointed out, the effects are obvious and revealing.
Once the Savile Row shop has closed, Julian says the plan is to carry on operating online and through trunk shows. In the long run, though, they’d love to be back on the Row.
“I’m not sure we could justify it yet, but we will one day and I love the community on the street. So many people have stopped by and said how well they knew my father,” says Julian.
The power of being on the Row was also palpable as I was leaving. An older American couple came in, saying they were passing and looking for a good dressing gown. It turned out they specifically wanted to replace a gown that the husband had bought from Neiman Marcus in the ‘90s, and had served him well ever since. Given the retailer, chances are that Daniel Hanson made that gown.
It was great to know the visitors had found the same quality and maker, 30 years later, just in a new form.
