When I started reading this book I found it really frustrating. Flintoff, who is a journalist, seemed to be just putting together a whole load of disparate articles under a very loose banner, i.e. 'how I changed the world by making my own clothes', and marketing it as a finished, well rounded thing. Trying to read it like this, with some sense of continuity, it totally doesn't work. The thread that ties the articles together is just too tenuous, and I found myself reading a chapter and then really not understanding why it made its way into the book.
About half way through I abandoned the idea of trying to read it as a coherent whole and got on much, much better. Flintoff's writing is quite dry and self-deprecating. At times, particularly in the sections where he is trying to find himself through exploring religions I found him a little too Jon Ronson'esque. I love Jon Ronson's writing, but if I want it I'll read Ronson's own work.
Where Flintoff shines is when he really engages with the subject and sticks to the main premise of the book, i.e. the idea of making his own clothes. I loved the sections where he talks about craftsmanship and what it means to make things and how that gives him spiritual succour. I believed it when he wrote it, and that sense of authenticity really touched me. I also thoroughly enjoyed reading about his encounter with the artist Billy Childish. By the end of the book I was much more in tune with what Flintoff was trying to do, whereas at the beginning I didn't care. So I guess it works. It hasn't made me want to make my own underpants, but it has certainly got me thinking about production and waste in the clothing industry and hopefully making better (as in better for the planet) buying decisions in future. The bibliography at the back of the book was very helpful if any of the issues Flintoff raises interest you further, and I liked the way he had annotated the bibliography with his own findings and ideas.