About
It started on Silverdale beach.
A sunset walk, two dogs, and a conversation about fleeces that had gone round one too many times. Everything since has been an answer to that evening.
01
A sunset walk along Silverdale.
Beth was born in Windermere. Tommy got here from London at thirteen and never really looked back. We met a few years ago at a Fleetwood Mac tribute gig — Meetwood Flac, since you ask — and most of our free time since has been spent walking dogs along the coast and crags between Carnforth and the fells.
One evening, summer before last, we took the beach at Silverdale around sunset. Beth has owned more fleeces than she'd care to count — a whole collection of nearly-right ones — and somewhere between the sand and the car park she said the thing she always says: the perfect one doesn't exist, and one day she'd make it herself. At the end of the walk Tommy said the obvious thing out loud.
"Why don't we just make our own?"
02
One fleece, properly.
We could make a lot of things. We have, so far, chosen not to. The Ascent Fleece is the only thing we sell — three colours, five sizes, £85. Something we'd wear ourselves, not another big name's idea of the outdoors.
It's a 280 gsm fleece with a soft-brushed back, a YKK quarter-zip, two hand pockets deep enough for a lead and a treat bag, and the faux-leather chest patch you'll find on everything we ever make. Most of the design decisions are quiet ones — they came from Beth's collection of nearly-right fleeces, and from her day job: she's a veterinary nurse, and between her and her colleagues there isn't a dog-walking problem this fleece hasn't met.
03
Designed at a kitchen table.
We design from home — Silverdale and Carnforth, at a kitchen table with more dog hair on it than tabletop. The first sample came through a tip from Tommy's cousin in the fashion trade, and taught us most of what we know about what we didn't know.
The first production run — one hundred pieces — is being made now with our manufacturing partner. When we know exactly where every part of it is made, it will say so here, plainly. No green badges we can't back up, no claims we can't show you.
What we can promise outright: if something goes wrong with one of ours, post it back. We repair it, free, for as long as we're around to do it.
"Why don't we just make our own?"
— Tommy, Silverdale beach, the evening it started
The team
Two of us, three of them.
Paws & Peaks is a small operation. The dogs do most of the product testing.
Co-founder · Design
Born in Windermere, never quite left. Veterinary nurse by day — the testing panel has more dogs on it than people. Started all this with a complaint about fleeces.
Co-founder · The rest
London originally, Lake District from thirteen. Looks after the factory, the website, and the kettle. Still not over his first Wainwright.
Quality control · Collie
Half collie, half shadow. Watches sunsets longer than is probably reasonable. Field-tests every fleece for the miles in between.
Founding member · 2010–2026
Sixteen years of walks. He set the pace, and the pace was his own. A big part of the best life — and the most handsome boy.
Pawducer · New recruit
The newest of the pack. Prefers a tent to a summit, the most judgemental of the bunch. But will always be up for treats.
04 · What we mean by honest
Wear it for the long way back.
The first run of one hundred lands this autumn. Three colours, five sizes. Join the list and you'll hear first.
— Tommy & Beth, Floss & Fred.