P&Co x Linus Hurling
Step inside Linus Hurling’s studio in Letchworth and you’re immediately hit with a sense of creative energy. Ink-stained rags, stacks of vintage magazines, and hand-carved lino blocks are scattered across every surface. It’s the kind of space that reflects its occupant: restless, inspired, and deeply connected to the past.
At just 23, Linus has already developed a distinctive visual language rooted in nostalgic Americana, drawing from old motorcycle flyers, 1950s ephemera, and the sun-faded signage of a bygone era. It’s not about imitation, it’s about capturing a feeling: that imperfect, well-worn beauty that only comes with time and use.
When we handed Linus a pair of our Chaos Carpenter Pants, he saw more than a blank canvas: he saw a way to bring history forward.




Rather than take the obvious route: paint, splatter, brushstrokes, Linus turned to an old favourite: lino printing. It’s a process he’s explored before, but one that felt particularly fitting for this piece. “It reflects the design style of the '50s and '60s,” he explained during our recent chat. “You only have a few colours to work with, and the misregistration you get where the ink doesn’t quite line up, adds so much texture and depth.” That texture became a key part of the piece. The ink clings to the heavy canvas in some places and skips in others, leaving behind an image that looks sun-worn and work-worn, just how Linus likes it.
The Albion Carpenter Pants, with their hard-wearing fabric and utilitarian fit, immediately reminded Linus of vintage American workwear. He saw echoes of the trousers worn by cowboys, miners and tradesmen, and leaned into that reference throughout the design. “I wanted them to feel like they’d been pulled from the middle of the desert,” he said. The concept was eventually given a name: “A Horse With No Name”—inspired by the 1972 song by America. “I pictured someone drifting across a sun-bleached landscape, stumbling into an old barn, resting in the shade. That kind of solitary, timeless image stuck with me.”

Linus’s own version of our Chaos Carpenter Pants isn’t clean or pristine, and that’s exactly the point. They’re meant to be lived in, marked up, and worn hard. In his eyes, they belong to a drifter, or more realistically, an artist with ink-stained hands and a never-ending project list. He’d style them simply: a plain white tee, a denim jacket, and worn leather boots. “It’s a look that’s lasted decades,” he says, referencing old photos from the American West and style icons like Steve McQueen, Paul Newman and Robert Redford. “It works because it doesn’t try too hard, it’s just functional, and that makes it timeless.”
From lino cuts to vintage cuts, Linus Hurling’s take on our Chaos Carpenter Pants is a tribute to craftsmanship, imperfection, and the romance of the road. A piece built for the studio, the desert, or wherever the next inspiration hits. Built for makers, drifters, and everyone in between.