THE CHAMPIONS OF HUMILITY
To paraphrase Winston Churchill commenting on Russia in 1939, when trying to do some research on Ali Fayed you get the sense that he is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, so non-existent is any information. Then suddenly the miasma is dispelled as he walks into the room at Harry’s Bar in London. Speaking pitch-perfect Italian, effusively greeting and being greeted by those around him — warm-eyed society luminaries and waitstaff alike — he is clearly a man who is very much loved. And when he sits beside his son James, a man cast in the same mould, equally soft-spoken, similarly self-effacing, shying away from the spotlight in the same manner despite his fierce intelligence and infectious passion for all things Turnbull & Asser, you are swept up in the great tangible affection they have for one another. In a world often complicated by succession planning, here is a pair of men who militate against transgenerational power struggles based on the simple reciprocal fact of a father delighted with a son and a son immensely proud of a father. There is a sense of peace, equality, respect and the most genuine affection that radiates between them. And together they begin to illuminate for me the story of how they became the guardians of one of the greatest names in the sartorial codex, the holder of the Royal Warrant, the most fabled shirtmaker in English history, Turnbull & Asser.
How is it that you came to own Turnbull & Asser?
AF: We purchased 30 per cent of House of Fraser in 1984. Once we became directors we looked through the company and recognised that it was a very old company with many under-utilised assets. At the time it was a public company. I will say this diplomatically, but sometimes with public companies the individuals working for them are inclined to look out for their self-interests first. Also, it can be difficult to implement the changes you know you need. So we went on board, and in March of 1986
