In an address to the Trades Guild of Learning in 1877, William Morris, the Victorian poet, textile designer and soon-to-be socialist, said: “I do not want art for a few, any more than I want education for a few, or freedom for a few.”
In an unequal society in which the elites and middle classes had the time and money to spend on the arts, while the working classes toiled away for them, Morris imagined a community where art was available for all and could be found in one’s work (or craft).
It was a grand vision, influenced by Karl Marx and John Ruskin, but one that he was ultimately unable to achieve in his lifetime. Morris’s life was one of contradictions: a radical socialist who was simultaneously a successful businessman designing wallpapers and upholstery for middle class houses and earning £1,800 a year for his troubles (enough to afford his family six servants).
In many ways contradictions have followed Morris into the afterlife. A man who warned patrons against his imitators and argued that “machines can do everything – except make works of art”, is now being imitated by generative artificial intelligence with the resulting products being passed off as art on Etsy and Temu.
In a world where Morris’s designs are divorced from his radical thinking and his patterns have come to symbolise a return to traditional Victorian values or thoughtlessly adorn cheap mugs, there is one contemporary object that perfectly embodies all that Morris stood for.
In 2023 Walthamstow FC, the William Morris Gallery, Wood Street Walls and Admiral Sportswear collaborated to create Walthamstow FC’s 2023-25 home and away kits. It was the first time that a museum had collaborated with a football club on a kit and the result was one of the best kits of the year, anywhere. Now, I like this kit for a few reasons.
First, I’ve lived in Walthamstow all my life. I don’t mean to brag but the first game I ever attended was a Walthamstow FC game (or Waltham Forest as they were known then). Seeing my local club’s kit and learning about its ambition to create a women’s team using the money raised from kit sales filled me with a great sense of pride.
Second, there was something poetic about a side in the eighth tier of English football showing billionaire-backed Premier League outfits how to properly design a football kit. Forget the first kit, copy and pasted from last season; the away kit, a retro remake of the classic 1980s kit; the third kit, a neon number that nobody wears; and the limited edition fourth, a collaboration with a fashion house desperate for a piece of the sweet football pie. Instead, tell a story about a hometown hero and pay homage to football heritage by teaming up with the creators of the first replica football kit.
Third, and most importantly, the kit is something Morris would probably have approved of. What better way to make art accessible to all than through the game of the people? Given the game’s working class roots, the Walthamstow FC kit has achieved what Morris could never quite do in his lifetime: make art that is carefully crafted yet affordable for the masses. “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful,” Morris said. A shirt that functions as a football kit and a fantastic fashion piece ticks both boxes.
So, I decided to direct a documentary about it. Made in Walthamstow explores the history of replica football kits, the significance of Morris and the power of community in Walthamstow. Featuring the major players in the project – from Hadrian Garrard, the director of the William Morris Gallery, to local MP Stella Creasy – the documentary is a celebration of all it means to be from Walthamstow.
It was a real labour of love and not in the William Morris sense of the phrase. I funded the film, shot the interviews, edited the footage and organised screenings at the William Morris Gallery, Orford House and Forest School. It was all worth it for a story so close to my heart. And, just as Morris would have wanted, the documentary is out now, available for all to see.
