The Age of Alpacas

A farmer in England is seeking to design the perfect wool

- ELLEN HIMELFARB

FEW THINGS about British country life are more certain than finding a sprinkling of sheep on a pasture. But, if you’re lucky, those furry dots bouncing toward you will reveal themselves to be not Cheviot rams or Romney ewes but Huacaya and Suri alpacas. Likely, their top-heavy forms will circle you curiously, ears perked, necks angling forward as if to steal a kiss.

This is the scene I recently wandered into at Bozedown Farm, in Oxfordshire, before holding court to dozens of fourfoot shag-pile wonders, lips curved upward in apparent smiles. They looked less like camelids than like Muppets or something Matt Groening might doodle on a greeting card. An hour surrounded by alpacas is like a month on Prozac, yet the cuteness of the alpaca belies its potential as a disruptor of fine knitwear. In fact, Bozedown’s resident breeder, Mary-Jo Smith, thinks hers could play a part in solving the fashion industry’s environmental problem.