Leather Glove

Leather stops wind. Wind resistance is what you buy it for, because knitted yarn of the same thickness lets moving air pass straight to your skin. The hide itself insulates very little, so a thin unlined pair keeps your hands dry and windproof on a raw fall day and leaves them cold in real winter.

Construction follows a pattern that has barely changed in a century. One piece called the trank covers the palm and the back of the hand, narrow strips called fourchettes form the sides of each finger. Small diamonds called quirks sit at the finger base so the hand can close. Cut pieces mean no stretch to fall back on. So leather gloves are sized in half numbers rather than in small, medium and large. Warmth then comes entirely from what is sewn inside. Silk adds almost nothing, wool adds a useful amount, cashmere is warmer still. A shearling or fleece lining moves the pair into genuine winter territory.

Set one against a knit glove and the trade is obvious. The knit stretches over any hand and washes in a machine, while leather molds to yours alone and cannot go near water. A mitten in the same hide runs warmer, since four fingers in one chamber share heat that separate fourchettes waste. Opera gloves use the same kind of leather but reach past the elbow and belong to evening dress, not to a cold sidewalk.

Windy, dry cold is where these earn their keep, along with driving, where a thin pair grips a cold wheel without the bulk that dulls your feel for it. Wet snow is the wrong environment, because water leaves leather stiff and a size smaller once it dries.

Judge a pair by the seams and the thumb. Stitching should be even and set tight to the edge. The thumb needs its own curved panel rather than being cut flat into the palm. This is what makes a cheap pair fight you every time you grip something. When they do get damp, lay them flat well away from any radiator and let them dry slowly, then work in a small amount of leather conditioner once a season.