Our guest on today's episode of the Gentleman's Journal Podcast is Peter Williams — the founder of both Aubin and Jack Wills, two of the most defining English style start ups of the 21st century. Here, Peter discusses his highly unlikely path into fashion; his 23-year-old midlife crisis; the early viral success of Jack Wills; the changing nature of the British high street; and why youth and naivety could be the most powerful tools for any entrepreneur.

“I find both peace and frustration in vintage tractors”

To the cohort of Home Counties teens that grew up in the early noughties under the shadow of The OC and those haircuts like thatched houses, Peter Williams was our Ralph Lauren, our Calvin Klein – that spiritual older cousin who surfed and played guitar on the beach and might even buy us beers if we ever made it down to Salcombe. Of course, we didn’t know him as ‘Peter Williams’ then – but thought of him instead as the mysterious, unseen ‘Jack Wills’, whose very name seemed to ring out with square jaws and blond hair; with sandy labradors and Land Rover Defenders. The company was founded in 1999 by Williams and his business partner Robert Shaw, and over the decade that followed became a remarkable British success story — growing to have around 70 stores across the country and an adoring following. Later, Williams opened the distinctly more post-graduate Aubin & Wills – a beloved brand that he resurrected personally in 2021 under the sleeker mononym Aubin: a stalwart once again of timeless, approachable British style, and a new chapter in his entrepreneurial journey.

At university I was a rugby-playing economist. That’s how I described myself. So you can imagine the amusement, hilarity and general dumbfoundedness that my friends and family experienced when I said: “I’m going to start a clothing brand.”

At the time, I was a strategy consultant.

It was brilliant. I loved that. I was paid a fortune, it was really interesting work, and I really liked the people I worked with. But I was 23, and I suddenly had the first midlife crisis of many. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the job. It was great. But when I looked through the windscreen, I thought: I don’t really want to do this for the rest of my life. And when I looked back in the rear view mirror, I thought: that bit at university – that was amazing. It was the spirit that we had. It was spontaneous. You’re an adult, but you’re not a proper grownup. And with Jack Wills, if there was an idea behind it, it was trying to bottle up that time in a brand.

We opened Jack Wills’ first store in 1999 in Salcombe. A friend of mine from university joined me, a guy called Rob Shaw, and we scraped together £40,000. The first year we turned over £56,000; the second year we turned over £59,000. And we were sort of starving to death. I said to Rob at the end of our second year: “The worst thing that can happen next year is we do £62,000 of sales.” We thought: we’re going to make this successful – or we’re going to go down in flames.

The world of American prep was all started by Ralph Lauren getting completely intoxicated by British heritage. All the American brands that we’re familiar with – Gant, Tommy Hilfiger, J Crew, the Abercrombie brands and so on – they all really started with Ralph’s obsession with British tradition. And I thought there was an opportunity then to create something that felt authentically British instead. Which wasn’t about sticking Union Jacks on things. It was about all of the subtle nuances which make British heritage unique.

A brilliant guy who worked for us, Ollie, came to my office one day and said: “We should open a Facebook page.” I said: “What the fuck’s Facebook?” But then I said togive it a go. This was 20 years ago. It was an entirely different planet. And we went to 200,000 followers almost immediately. It really kicked on from there. Jack Wills was very much the Facebook generation.

It took us about seven years to get to a million pounds in sales. After that, it was pretty quick. Four million, then 11 million, then 25, 45, 70 million. It was really, really hard work. It was really stressful. And it was really fun. But we never had any money because, although the business was generating a lot of cash, we had to double the business year on year. But that ride is really exhilarating.

Nothing kills a youth brand more than it becoming a dad’s brand. So we really wanted people to grow into the brand and then to leave it. I created Aubin & Wills as a place for someone to go to next. It became the more sophisticated elder sibling. But it’s really hard to grow two brands at once, to be honest, and to keep them separate. We shut Aubin & Wills down in 2013. And then, later on, when word got out that we were going to restart it, all these people were contacting us saying, “Oh my God, I love that brand! I’ve got this cardigan or jumper or jacket, it’s covered in moth holes – but I can’t bring myself to throw it away…” Now we’ve just completed our fourth full year of trading at Aubin. And I can’t describe how different it is the second time around.

I find both peace and frustration in vintage tractors. If you asked a child to draw a picture of a tractor, mine’s the tractor they’d draw. I have a vintage Massey Ferguson. Classic red. Big wheels at the back. A little chimney. It’s like the Coca-Cola bottle or the VW Beetle. It’s impossible not to love! It’s an amazing piece of British industrial heritage.

We run something called ‘Friends of Aubin’, which is really the bedrock of our marketing campaign. It’s all about meeting interesting people who do interesting things in all walks of life – whether that’s entrepreneurs or people who have a coffee shop or those who work in fintech, or artists or musicians. I find people’s enthusiasm and interest really intoxicating. Life gets quite interesting and exciting if you meet interesting people.