Mencyclopaedia: Ted Baker - Telegraph How methodical madness makes a British business boom. At Ted Baker HQ there's an animatronic nodding dog in the lobby, the staff loos are lined with corporate press cuttings (maybe this one will make the smallest room), and a breathy female voice in the lift beseeches passengers to press her button. Ray Kelvin, the founder, is as tricksy as the trout he spends his spare time trying to lure from the Severn. A big hugger, the 50-something fashion baron regularly wraps himself around passing employees of the brand he's built into a 22-country, 316-outpost business. Last year, revenue topped £250 million and there were new stores in Shanghai, New York and Canada. Kelvin, though, doesn't talk about that at first: instead he munches custard creams as we topic-trot through psoriatic arthritis (he's got a gammy arm), trout, table-tennis, Tottenham, my kids, his kids (two teenage sons and a six-week-old daughter, Ava) and the time he fell asleep in the bath of a Paris hotel and woke up flab-vacuumed to the porcelain. Puglia swimmimg trunks £60 and fish hook pocket square, below, £25 The chat is every bit as engaging as the quirky details that make Ted Baker so Ted Bakerish. Both shops and clothes feature lavish decorative flashes, whether it's the fly-fishing lining in a sharply cut, rich-green tweed jacket or the paisley pocket bags that lurk within its speedily selling chinos. Although it does a lot of things well, for many Ted Baker men the brand is about affordable, dashing suits - its Slick Rick slim-cuts and rakishly ticket-pocketed Endurance lines are perfect attire for the young executive whose back is not quite bent to the corporate yoke. Mencyclopaedia: Gucci Despite that bath story, Kelvin says: "I've always believed it's sexier to conceal rather than reveal." This is why he prefers not to be photographed, and is happy that Ted Baker - a name he invented when he started the brand as a shirt shop in Glasgow 25 years ago - remains the star of his show. It's not about me, and it's not about profile. I'm just design-mad and obsessed with product. Ted Baker's big break was a Kelvin-designed, drapey men's shirt, big with clubbers in the early 1990s. Even after that, says, Kelvin, "I was assertive bordering on angry, struggling like mad." Later he expands: "I was a monster. I threw a chair, although not at anyone - I just threw it. The monstering paid off in 1997 when the company - now in the FTSE 250 and, according to a very compelling set of accounts, delivering impressive returns - went public. Ted Baker's alarming ear hair removal technique and 'Fishez' linen blazer, £299 These days, Kelvin is a softy who retains unyielding edges. He allowed his Turkish barber to convince him to back a chain of "grooming rooms" - where they deliver truly brilliant shaves before disconcertingly burning off clients' ear-hair with an open flame - that has deservedly prospered. Yet as he strides in blue-stained brogues around the enormous open plan former postal depot where his hundreds of employees clack their keyboards to piped music, he is most definitely the boss. Ted Baker will always, says Kelvin, remain in the middle of the market - neither fast-fashion cheap nor designer-pricey. He expands: "Charge £85 for a great shirt, it will sell. But over £100? People think twice. I'm not a lover of 'luxury' because I remember when luxury meant something bought by an elite that was extremely special. We're about colour, detail, and quality - and it's got to be fashionable, because people want their friends to think they look good. Which doesn't sound tricksy at all.