TILLERS

TILLERS

In a tranquil corner of Hampstead Heath, where the earth breathes beneath apple trees and the air carries the slow perfume of late summer, the allotments stretch out in gentle order. Rows of soil, heavy with promise. Here, time seems to decelerate — marked not by minutes, but by the steady rhythm of growth, of tending, of waiting.

It is within this rhythm that Tillers finds its story — a photographic series capturing four allotment holders from Hampstead, each photographed in a studio setting wearing pieces from our Spring / Summer collection. Away from the soil yet still surrounded by its spirit, the portraits honour the poetry of cultivation: a meeting of human hands and natural cycles, patience and renewal.

Zee, one of the four, describes his allotment as a kind of escape — a private Eden hidden within the city. “It’s my own private Idaho,” he says, “set in a most bucolic corner of Hampstead Heath, three minutes from the men’s pond where I swim and five from Kenwood House.” His love is for Kadoo, a Persian squash whose vines grow fast and feed generously. “You can’t go wrong,” he explains, “the leaves are as delicious as the fruit.” His advice to beginners is both practical and philosophical: “At first it all looks overwhelming. Grow potatoes. You can hardly go wrong — they’ll break up the soil, suppress weeds, and give you confidence.”

Jackie speaks of her plot as a sanctuary. “Every day something new sprouts or pops up. There’s something really satisfying and rewarding about that. It’s also my chill out zone — my little haven of tranquillity.” There’s pride in the way she speaks of her cucumbers: “Considering I didn’t get my plot until May, I’ve had forty of them so far.” She loves the sense of camaraderie — neighbours who share their bounty, offer advice, and remind her that patience is part of the process. “Experiment,” she says, “but grow the food you actually enjoy eating.”

For Stephen, his allotment is “the realisation of a life-long dream. It’s my happy place.” For him, tending the land is both grounding and liberating — a reminder that joy lies in simple acts. His favourite crop is the tomato, “a pure joy, fresh off the vine.” He remembers his first planting — garlic, sown late in the season — and the lesson it brought: “Not everything works, but it’s fun trying.” In late afternoons, when the sun softens and the day’s labour subsides, he sits with a cool drink, content in the satisfaction of care given and received.

Ray, meanwhile, finds solace in ritual. We asked if she had a go-to piece of clothing she wears when tending to her allotment, “An old pair of jeans lives in the shed,” she says — the kind of habit that signals belonging. She favours September, “when the weather is agreeable, plenty of crops are being harvested, and it’s the start of apple season.” Her approach is deliberate, rooted in methods of rotation and companion planting, a balance between planning and surrender. “Something will always be waiting to eat everything you grow,” she says. “Be ready to deter predators.”

In their reflections, a shared truth emerges: tending a plot is as much about inner cultivation as it is about harvest. It is about rhythm, humility, and the satisfaction of seeing life respond to your care.

In the studio, their portraits echo this sentiment — intimate, natural and enduring. Our Spring / Summer collection embodies what the allotment teaches: to create from what endures, to honour what grows naturally, and to live attuned to cycles larger than oneself.

Tillers is, at its heart, an ode to patience — to the slow, grounding work of both growing and making. It reminds us that beauty is not manufactured in haste, but coaxed gently from the soil of time, care, and devotion.