Dunhill
Simon Holloway is the epitome of British elegance. Urbane, considered, and decorous to a fault, he wears a bookish yet chic three-piece corduroy suit, watching the rain teem down on London's Mayfair. Holloway is the new(ish) chief creative officer of Dunhill, one of the great British luxury houses, with a 130-year history of dazzling innovation, wit, and daring sewn into its DNA, a client list that has included global royalty, Hollywood superstars, and world leaders, and a place in the hearts of sophisticated men the world over.
In many ways, it's a dream gig and Holloway the ideal hire, but it's no easy task for a multitude of reasons, not least the series of misguided creative turns by those who came before him, plus the decision by longtime parent company Richemont to tap Dunhill's last CEO (Laurent Malecaze, the guy who hired Holloway and who had the vision to return the house to its former glory) to take over another label after less than two years in the post. Which makes the job for Holloway, and quite possibly the key to Dunhill's future success, all the more challenging—and which can be boiled down to this question: How well can he channel a three-inch-tall gargoyle called Tweenie?
This needs some explaining, and to do that, we must understand what Dunhill is and why it matters. Its story begins with Alfred Dunhill, age 21, taking over his father's saddlery business in London in 1893. Mr. A. Dunhill was revolutionary: A perspicacious entrepreneur and inventor, he foresaw that the age of the horse as the elite's preferred transport was on the way out, to be replaced by the newfangled motorcar gaining ground in Germany and France. Dunhill built his business designing accessories for this horseless carriage and coined the phrase “Motorities—everything for the car but the motor.”
AN ARCHIVE OF INNOVATION
Over the ensuing years, he innovated on car horns, dashboard clocks, speedometers, and pocket voltmeters and designed various items of
