Shearing Day on Bonnytoun: Where the fleece falls and the making begins
Shearing day on Bonnytoun is perhaps the one day of the year when the living, breathing realness of what we do at Future Vintage comes fully into focus.
Fleece—grown to keep our hardy Shetland sheep warm through wind, rain, and snow—is carefully shorn away to begin its next life. Wool still warm from the animal, laid out under spring skies, ready to become something else entirely. There’s nothing abstract about it. It’s not just a story of where things come from—it is where they come from.
This year, we had the weather on our side. A dry, still May day meant we could work out in the open—no rushing sheep indoors, no skidding through the barn in wet boots. The whole day felt lighter, smoother, more communal.
And that’s really what it becomes: a kind of ‘raising the barn’ moment. Family, friends, neighbouring farmers, and a few willing first-timers all gathered round. Some with decades of experience, others with none at all. But everyone playing a part—hauling wool, skirting fleece, making tea, making space. There’s a shared rhythm that sets in.
We shear our own flock of pedigree Shetland sheep—small, resilient, and full of character. Each one is known and recorded, sorted by fleece colour and grouped into small lots. It’s this traceability that keeps our yarn honest. We let the fleece speak for itself—no dyeing, no blending—just the colours nature gave.
As the sheep move through, each fleece is taken in one piece and rolled tip-side in. From there, it’s onto the skirting table, where we gently remove the less usable parts: hedgerow, grass, and a fair bit of muck from the back end. We handle each fleece with care. The wool from the front and shoulders is soft, springy, and full of natural crimp—that’s what becomes our yarn. The wool from the haunches, exposed to sun and rain, is tougher, sometimes felted, and used elsewhere.
There’s also a quiet part of the day that not many see—returning the ewes to their lambs. After shearing, they look and smell unfamiliar, so we rely on collar colours and careful attention to make sure the right pairs are reunited. The lambs do a bit of searching, the ewes a bit of calling. It takes time. But it matters.
This year’s fleeces were especially strong—dense, clean, and full of rich, natural colour: creamy whites, soft greys, deep moorits and black flecked with gold from the May sun. Nature’s own highlights, caught in the wool. All of it now packed and heading to The Natural Fibre Company to be scoured and spun into Vintage 25/26.
While that yarn begins its journey, another part of the cycle is reaching its next chapter. Our new collection, Taking Shape, is now live—made from last year’s fleece, and carrying the story forward.
It features our DEE shape in three forms—cardigan, jacket and coat—and the SPEY, which takes on the roles of vest, waistcoat and jumper. Alongside them, our steadfast BEN jumper. Each shape is named after Scottish rivers, just like the groups within our flock whose wool they came from. We’ve now started dreaming up ideas for next year’s theme—perhaps native wildflowers, as a nod to what surrounds us here every day.
Taking Shape is a gentle evolution of our Shepherd’s Wardrobe—new proportions, looser fits, quiet nods to workwear. Still made by hand, with the same wool, from the same sheep, on the same land.
There’s no grand metaphor needed. This is the work. Real, shared, seasonal. One fleece becomes yarn. One yarn becomes shape. And around it all, life on the farm keeps moving forward—slowly, deliberately, and always by hand.
With warmth and wool,
Lindsay x
