Jemvic is carried slowly, and on purpose. Our channel strategy fits in a sentence: the studio in London, our own clothing store online, and a short list of independent shops we would shop in ourselves. That list is being finalised for the season — wholesale conversations, like everything here, move at the pace of the cloth — and this page explains how we choose, where to find us now, and how to become one of the shops we say yes to.

Where you can find us today

Three doors are open. First, the studio — Stoke Newington, London N16, by appointment, where the collections hang in full and the kettle is reliable. Second, jemvicclothings.uk, the clothing store, where every piece is listed with honest measurements and photographs taken in the same light you will wear it in. Third, our stockist rail, which is being rebuilt for the current season — the shops below are the shape of it.

How a shop makes the list

We visit every shop we work with before we ship a single coat. This is not diligence theatre — it is the only reliable test we know. A photograph of a shop tells you its fittings; an afternoon in it tells you how the staff speak about the clothes when a customer has just walked in cold, whether the rails are edited or crowded, and whether the room feels like a considered wardrobe or a warehouse with music. Jemvic belongs on rails where things are chosen, not stacked.

We look for three things. First, edit discipline: a shop that buys six pieces deeply will always sell them better than a shop that buys sixty shallowly. Second, service that knows the stock: our knits need explaining — the undyed yarn, the month-three logic — and they sell themselves only to people who already agree. Third, geography of trust: we would rather be carried well in Bath than adequately everywhere.

We would rather be carried well in Bath than adequately everywhere.

The wholesale terms, plainly

Our wholesale is built for shops of the size we just described. Minimums are deliberately low — a starting order is a story, not a warehouse. Delivery windows follow the drops, not the trade-fair calendar: outerwear lands early autumn, knitwear as the cold settles, tailoring through the season. Margins are standard for independent retail and communicated in full on first contact, with no seasonal surprises. Displays are simple: we supply the lookbook, the cloth notes, and honest measurements — the shop supplies the room.

If you run such a shop — or you are one of the customers who tells shops about us, which happens more than you would think — write to wholesale@jemvic.co.uk. A person answers, usually within two working days, and the first question will be about your room, not your credit line.

Why we sell this way

The honest answer is that slow channels protect the clothes. A coat sold through a visit, a considered rail or a well-photographed product page arrives with its story attached; the same coat sold through a flash marketplace arrives as a SKU. The five-year test applies to how pieces are sold, too. A customer who understands the undyed lambswool will not wash it wrong; a customer who bought it at seventy percent off never read about the yarn at all.

Why we said no to the big rooms

Every wholesale conversation eventually arrives at the same question: would we like to be considered for a department store concession? Some houses build their year around that room. We have thought about it honestly, twice, and the answer has been no both times — not out of snobbery, but because of what the room does to the clothes. A concession allocates your rail by committee, schedules your drops by calendar quarter, and hands the last metre of the conversation to a promotion the house cannot see coming. Jemvic pieces arrive with a story attached; a story does not survive a red pen. The shops we say yes to are the ones where the buyer answers the door themselves. That is the whole test, and it has never once been wrong.

Pop-ups and the studio calendar

Beyond the permanent channels, the house runs one or two pop-ups a year — a borrowed shopfront for a fortnight, the full rail, the fitting mirror, the kettle. Pop-ups are how we test a city we have not shipped to properly: they are a conversation with a postcode. Nothing from a good fortnight is wasted; the shops we meet become the stockist conversation, and the pieces that sell through teach the next drop. Announcements go to the clothing store’s list first. If your city is on our short list — and at the moment that means Manchester, Edinburgh, Bath and Brighton — the pop-up usually arrives a season before the rail does.

Europe, slowly

The clothing store ships across Europe, and Europe has begun answering — orders from the Netherlands, Germany, Ireland and Scandinavia arrive at the studio with pleasing regularity. We have not yet opened wholesale conversations on the continent, for the same reason we visit every domestic shop first: rails are rooms, and rooms are relationships, and relationships begin in person. When the continental list opens, it will begin in the cities we can reach by train with a garment bag and an open afternoon. If you run such a shop, the wholesale address below is already listening.

On marketplaces: a firm no

The question behind the question, from customers and shops alike: will Jemvic appear on the big marketplaces? No. Not because of margin, though the margin would not survive it — because of what a marketplace does to the story. A rail has a buyer; a search result has a filter. Our pieces arrive with cloth notes, honest measurements and a person at the other end of the enquiry form, and that apparatus is the product as much as the coat is. Stripped of it, the camel coat is just expensive outerwear next to a discount banner. The five-year test applies to channels, and marketplaces fail it on contact.

On the customer grapevine

The channel we never planned and could not buy: word of mouth. More stockist conversations begin with “a customer told us about you” than with any outreach of ours, and more studio appointments arrive the same way. This is worth writing down because it is the only marketing metric the house has ever trusted — not reach, not impressions, just the number of people who liked a coat enough to say so across a table. If you are one of them, you are the strategy. Thank you; the kettle is on.

The ask, summarised

For shoppers: the studio by appointment, the clothing store online, and — as the season’s list settles — a short, well-chosen rail near you. For shops: write to wholesale@jemvic.co.uk with a line about your room; the first question will be about your edit, not your credit line. For everyone else: tell a friend the slow way. It remains the only marketing this house has ever trusted.

And if you have read this far — the studio door, as always, is open by appointment. Come see the coats in the light they were argued over in.

A closing word on pace

Every channel on this page was chosen at walking speed, and we would recommend the method to anyone building something they intend to keep. The studio was found on foot, over three afternoons, after one lease that would have been a mistake and one landlord who was honest about it. The clothing store was built the season the studio could supervise it, not the season a consultant suggested. The stockist list grows one signed room at a time, and each of those rooms was stood in before it was agreed to. Pace is not the opposite of ambition; it is ambition with a sense of direction. The five-year test applies to strategy as much as to cloth, and slow is simply the speed at which true things can be checked before they are said.

So: the rails will grow, the list will fill, and this page will carry the record as it does — city by city, room by room, at the only speed we trust. If your city is next, you will read it here first. And if you would like your room on the list, the letter box is open and the cloth notes are ready. The house has nowhere it needs to be by Friday. That, it turns out, was the plan all along — and the pace, like the palette, was a decision made once and kept.