A Referendum on the Union Jack

A young boy cheers during the Selkirk Common Ridings.
A young boy cheers during the Selkirk Common Ridings.Photograph by Rob Stothard

It’s often said that an era’s fashions reflect its politics, but this week sees a chance for fashion designers to take the lead, as the London shows for the Spring 2015 collections coincide with the Scottish referendum on independence. Ever since a September 7th poll showed that a slight majority supported independence, there has been an onslaught of pro-union campaigning: warnings of market turmoil and a corporate exodus, and entreaties from the leaders of the three major British parties, who rushed north from Westminster to plea that the two neighbors really are “better together.” The “No” side pulled out in front again, but most experts say that the vote is too close to call, and there’s a debate as to which kind of plea—economic or emotional—is having the most impact. Here’s where fashion comes in, because also at stake in the referendum is one of the most stirring and successful examples of fabric design in history: the Union Jack.

The Union Jack combines the crosses that appeared on the flags of England, Ireland, and Scotland. Wales is not represented, as it was considered part of England in 1801, when George III adopted the flag—that’s why there’s a Prince of Wales but no Prince of Scotland. (That was fortunate, at least from a style standpoint: the Welsh flag features a large red dragon.) So if Scotland votes to remove itself from the United Kingdom, the white St. Andrew’s cross and its blue background should be removed from the Union Jack, leaving just the red St. George’s Cross, of England, and the red St. Patrick’s Saltire, of Ireland. (Technically, the Irish element should have gone in 1922, at the time of partition, but St. Patrick answers for Northern Ireland, too.) And if the Union Jack ceases to exist, many millions of pounds’ worth of sales in souvenir teapots, dish towels, and customized Minis will be rendered obsolete—not to mention T-shirts, umbrellas, and mini dresses.

Nonetheless, at Fashion Week, the English designer Vivienne Westwood was the first to take a stand, and she chose independence. On Sunday, she gave her models “YES” buttons to wear on the runway, amid punk-looking signs calling for “Democracy in the U.K.”—never mind that if “Yes” wins, the K. won’t be U. anymore.

Photograph by Mick Hutson/Redferns/Getty

British designers have favored the flag ever since the swinging sixties, when Pete Townshend introduced the Union Jack blazer. Westwood herself once used tattered-looking versions of the flag on T-shirts that she made for the Sex Pistols. Paul Smith, Katharine Hamnett, Alexander McQueen (who had the perfect binational name), and Stella McCartney have also favored the flag (though McCartney’s Union Jack-themed uniforms for the British Olympic team were deemed, suspiciously, too blue). There was a revival of flag fashion during the Tony Blair/Oasis/Cool Britannia era, and another one during the past few years, due to various royal events, the London Summer Olympics, and Andy Murray’s Wimbledon triumph. (Murray has been careful to fly both the Scottish and the British flags. When Alex Salmond, the head of the Scottish government and the leader of the Scottish National Party, flew a St. Andrew’s Cross in the royal box at Wimbledon, behind a cheering David Cameron, Murray let it be known that he found Salmond’s antics unsporting.)

The iconic appeal of the flag is probably due in part to the subtle complication of its design. There are precise specifications for the width and the superimposition of the crosses, and for the white margins around them, called “fimbriations.” The flag is not symmetrical, and it’s possible to fly it the wrong way around, though not upside down. In fact, it was flown backward a few years ago at 10 Downing Street, at the signing of a trade agreement with China. (The Prime Minister at the time was Gordon Brown, a Scotsman.)

The design has been more seriously compromised, however. From time to time, the racist right has appropriated the Union Jack as its battle flag. And the flag was originally called a “jack” because it was flown at sea, which means that, between 1801 and 1807, when the slave trade was abolished in Britain, it flew from slave ships. Other colonialist connotations have led all but four Commonwealth countries to remove the Union Jack from their national flags. One of them, New Zealand, is currently considering a referendum on adopting a more local design—perhaps the silver fern of Maori legend. Meanwhile, back in the U.K., some people have begun to question whether ancient Christian crosses are still appropriate for the insignia of modern Britain.

So should the Union Jack stay or should it go? On Thursday, the Scots—or, anyway, the astounding ninety-seven per cent of eligible Scottish voters who have registered for the occasion—will deliver their verdict. There is as yet no word from Pringle of Scotland—the inventor of the cashmere twinset, much beloved by the Queen—which showed the same day as Westwood. The Queen officially takes no side on the issue, although on Sunday, in Scotland, she said, “I hope people will think very carefully about the future,” which many interpreted as a “No.”

Still, if the “Yes” side wins, Alex Salmond said that he looks forward to the Queen staying on as Elizabeth, Queen of Scots, and continuing to visit Balmoral Castle, her Highland retreat, where, in any case, she flies her own flag: the Royal Standard of Scotland.