Policarpo Santos, head of Design at the Oliveira Ferreira Mill, takes a closer look at a flannel pattern.

When you hear something is made of Portuguese flannel, you assume it will be well-made, crisp, nicely patterned, with an almost indescribable softness. The reputation has made its way across the world purely on account of the quality of the fabric. There are no artificial ingredients in the reputation whatsoever. 

Pre-shrinking the Portuguese flannel  at the mill.

Here at Lands' End®, we've quantified the differences between Portuguese flannel and others in our testing lab. Portuguese flannel is measurably softer. It stands up far better to repeated washings without pilling or growing thin. The better cotton they use makes the fabric demonstrably stronger. In short, what you think of when you hear Portuguese flannel is accurate. If anything, its reputation understates the differences.

Humble Beginnings

Flannel originated in Northern Europe, where the chilly climate incited fabric makers to extract every last bit of warmth and coziness from otherwise ordinary fabric by brushing it. Brushing raises the soft, lofty "nap" that's characteristic of flannel. Ironically, Portugal came into the picture as a relatively low-cost, yet geographically accessible, producer. But as the Portuguese mills gained experience, they began to eclipse their former masters. By the early 1950s, they had become the premier producers in the world. Today, Portugal is the only European source for flannel.
 

To find the point where flannel acquires the ultimate softness yet still retains its strength requires the generations of experience found in Portugal's mills.

The flannel mills are clustered around Guimaraes, in the hills of Northern Portugal. From the beginning, relatively easy sea access allowed the mills to receive cotton from anywhere in the world — including long-staple cotton from places like Egypt, Pima County, and Peru. It's even said that the cool mountain air enhances the brushing process, making the finished fabric softer. Guimaraes is also Portugal's original capital, as well as one of Portugal's key wine-making regions. Many of the family-owned flannel mills have their own small vineyards. If you look closely, you'll see that the pattern of grapes growing on hillsides has inspired a flannel pattern or two.

An Art Form

Cotton being drawn into a "sliver" — the first step in creating the yarns that will be woven into flannel.

In Portugal, making flannel is more than an industry, it's an art form — sensitive to temperature, humidity, cotton makeup, underlying weave, not to mention speed, pressure and other characteristics of the brushing machine. 

While certain things remain constant — a greater number of slower, gentler passes through the brushing machines produces a softer, longer-lasting pile than a quick, harsh brushing — many aspects of the process are still best done by nappers relying on experience and touch. And Portuguese mills in and around Guimaraes simply have more experienced people, giving them more leeway to do what it takes to make great flannel. 

Lifting the lid on one of the large beer stein-like machines that dye the flannel yarns.

You simply cannot find this kind of experience at mills producing flannel as one of a number of products. 

Many Portuguese nappers have decades of experience. Many of them are second or third generation workers. They know the yarn sizes most appropriate for a particular pattern and weight of flannel. They select the kind of twill weave that will best compliment the pattern and type of brushing that will be ultimately applied. (By choosing certain types of weaves, they can maximize the "resolution" of the pattern.) And because Portuguese mills specialize in flannel, they've invested heavily in the machinery and technology that gives workers the freedom to exercise their art. 
 

Brushing needles give Portuguese flannel its famous nap.

It's a little hard for an American writer to credibly describe the pride people feel for their work, but when you tour a mill it's obvious. Studies have shown that people like their work best when they feel a measure of control. And it is a fact that the expertise of the nappers, along with that of the people doing the spinning, dyeing, and weaving leading up to it, is directly responsible for the quality of the flannel that's produced. And, in turn, for the reputation that their flannel has earned across the world. 
  There are stories about mills in other countries trying to hire away master Portuguese nappers in an effort to match Portuguese quality. These efforts were unsuccessful.

Guimaraes, in the hill country of Northern Portugal, is a fine place to live, and often the skill has been handed across several generations. Plus, making flannel is a story of interconnections — a napper would be somewhat lost without the other employees he works with and depends on. 

In that way, brushing flannel is sort of like playing on a football team. Maybe we should suggest that the Portuguese mills hire a famous football star as spokesperson?

Then again, maybe not.