I was waiting at Piccadilly Circus last Tuesday and there was a gaggle of tourists stood miserably beneath the screens, absolutely soaked to the skin. The weather had changed from glorious sunshine to torrential downpour in about four minutes flat and they had been caught completely unawares in their t-shirts and light jackets. Every Londoner within twenty feet of them however, had magically produced an extra layer from nowhere.
Waterproof shells had materialised from their tote bags. Concealed hoods had been unfurled from collar compartments. Compact umbrellas had been whipped out of inside pockets.
Not one local had been caught out. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/im1979_The_Art_of_Proper_Layering_A_Distinctly_British_Skill__05ccc900-f738-45a4-9984-009f1005bae1_1.jpg” alt=”im1979_The Art of Proper Layering A Distinctly British Skill _05ccc900-f738-45a4-99 84-009f1005bae1_1″ /> This my friends, is layering done properly – and it’s a skill so quintessentially British I reckon it should be added to the citizenship criteria alongside knowing your strengths of tea and understanding queuing etiquette. Every layer has its place and purpose.
It’s not about throwing on ten jumpers.
It’s science, really. Developed and perfected over decades–nay, centuries–of British people struggling to stay dry and sane in a country that can throw any four seasons into one day. I picked it up pretty young.
Like most British children my first education in the ways of correct layering came from my Grandfather. Nan’s husband was a product of the war, which meant he’d grown up in the days of rationing. A lot of stuff he’d learnt in those austere days stuck with him–wash things twice to make them last longer; mend before you buy; and never, ever throw anything away.
Apply that last life lesson to twenty years of accumulated clothing and you end up with a man who can produce an extra jumper from his waxed Barbour when you least expect it. Teach that trick to Mary Poppins and you’d have someone who could take Christmas jumpers to new levels. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/im1979_The_Art_of_Proper_Layering_A_Distinctly_British_Skill__05ccc900-f738-45a4-99 84-009f1005bae1_2.jpg” alt=”im1979_The Art of Proper Layering A Distinctly British Skill _05ccc900-f738-45a4-99 84-009f1005bae1_2″ /> He used to take me fishing down on the Lancashire coast when I was a nipper. Bare-footed scamp that I was, I’d spend hours watching him sit there, whilst I swarmed all over the rocks catching crabs.
He’d add layers methodically as the day wore on, and take them off just as systematically as we made our way back to the car, never once venturing inside to stuff them on a chair. “Always be prepared for four seasons in one day, son”, he’d say proudly, extracting yet another jumper from his ethereal waxed Barbour. Bloody legend. Layering properly is half mental, and half practical.
The basics are simple. We all know that. Layering badly and most people dive straight for cotton.
It feels great in the summer but when it gets wet–be it rain or sweat– it holds that moisture against your skin like a chilled wrung out towel. Stay away from the cotton unless you want to play miserable forfeit at your next weekend hike. The British upper body layered ensemble is all about temperature regulation.
Contrary to what the drive-home advertisers would have you believe, English summers aren’t called Autumn for nothing. Pick materials that can cope with being added and subtracted throughout the day. It should be a personalised micro-climate that you can control at will. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/im1979_The_Art_of_Proper_Layering_A_Distinctly_British_Skill__05ccc900-f738-45a4-99 84-009f100cbae1_3.jpg” alt=”im1979_The Art of Proper Layering A Distinctly British Skill _05ccc900-f738-45a4-99 84-009f100cbae1_3″ /> Start with a good base layer.
Think thermal-effecgts without feeling like you’re wearing one. Merino wool is where it’s at. It’s naturally temperature regulating and wicks moisture away from the skin.
It also doesn’t stink, even after a full day of wearing. Think of it like your garments’ immune system. My collection of merino t-shirts have got me through more surprising British downpours and freak snow storms than I care to remember, and they’ve never let me down.
Uniqlo do some great affordable ones. But if you want to splash out then go proper and go Finisterre . They’re proper nice–made by Cornish surfers who know a thing or two about layering for changeable weather.
The mid layer is where it all comes together. You’ll find yourself adding and removing this layer most through the day so it needs to be functional. Add some light knits to your rotation.
By that I don’t mean big cumbersome jumpers designed for January. I mean thin, smart jumpers that you can throw on over your base layer to keep you warm when necessary, but which still allow you to move freely. Cardigans are brilliant for this, despite being hilariously last century.
You can partially undo them if it gets too warm; they usually have pockets for those all important smalls; and you can always take the whole thing off without disturbing any other layers. Get ones that are smart enough to not look dead thrift-store-y, but with a weight that feels like they actually serve a purpose. Cashmere obviouslyRules absolutely everything when it comes to knitwear.
But any good lambswool, or cotton-merino mix will do the job for those of us mere mere mortals without bottomless pockets. I picked this navy number up from Community Clothing last year. Patrick Grant’s awesome made-in-Britain brand .
It’s been my go-to mid layer for the past three years. It comes down to your waist so it’s the perfect weight, it’s got these horn buttons which gives it personality, and the sleeves are cut so that when you add your outer layer they don’t bunch up around your wrists. £65 sounds like a lot for a cardigan, but trust me it’s easily the best pound:wear ratio item in my wardrobe. Literally kept a spare in my desk draw at work for when the office heating decides to either fry us or freeze us to death.
British offices. Always absurdly hot or freezing. Never anything in between.
One final shout out for overshirts/shirt jackets. That hybrid garment that comes in particularly handy during the British autumn and spring; which is about eight months of the year. They straddle the line between shirt and jacket nicely.
Too heavy to be bothered with unless you’re really layering, but not quite weighty enough that you don’t consider them when it comes to those snap judgementlayering decisions on the way out of the house. The Portuguese flannel ones are tops. As are the thicker Oxford cloth versions from folks like Universal Works or Folk .
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They double up nicely as an outer layer on your lighter days, but equally work as a middle layer when the temperatures plummet. Okay. So we’ve got our base and middle sorted.
Time to talk about the good stuff. The outer layer. Rain jackets.
DON’T SKIMP HERE. You need a proper waterproof, it’s Britain after all. But at the same time you need something that’s breathable or you’ll end up just as soggy with sweat as you would have been from rain.
Spend a bit of money on the good technical kit here. Decathlon do all manner of good quality outdoor gear at sensible prices, but my go-to outer shells are from Patagonia or Fjällräven . You know it’s crap when you buy a rain jacket and after two hours in a mild drizzle you still end up soaking wet.
Ask me how I know. I had a pathetic moment during my twenty-odd years on this planet where I owned an incredibly stylish but completely useless designer rain jacket. Embarrassingly wasted money.
Never again. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/im1979_The_Art_of_Proper_Layering_A_Distinctly_British_Skill__1d35e5cc-07a0-47ad-99c6-f4bee6f45829_1.jpg” alt=”im1979_The Art of Proper Layering A Distinctly British Skill _1d35e5cc-07a0-47ad-99c6-f4bee6f45829_1″ />Start paying attention to the in-between pieces and that’s when you start elevating your layering game from rookie to pro. Necklines are important. A crewneck jumper over a crewneck shirt is a big ol’ fashion no-no.
Same goes for sleeves–gradually increase the length as you work outwards. It’s the small details. Little things that most people won’t even realise they notice until you do it right. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/im1979_The_Art_of_Proper_Layering_A_Distinctly_British_Skill__1d35e5cc-07a0-47ad-99c6-f4bee6f45829_2.jpg” alt=”im1979_The Art of Proper Layering A Distinctly British Skill _1d35e5cc-07a0-47ad-99c6-f4bee6f45829_2″ /> A pro will think about how the layers will interact with each other once you start adding and removing them throughout the day.
Are you going to need to strip down to your base layer when you get into work? How will your jumper fit around your waist if so? Are the sleeves too long and gonna bunch up when you put your mid-layer on?
My mate Nev can look at a garment and within seconds be able to tell you whether he can tie it comfortably around his waist if need be, or stuff it in his bag without it creasing. He takes it to extremes but has never been caught out by the weather in the fifteen years I’ve known him. Colour coordination across your layers is another subtle hallmark of a layering nerd.
You want to look intentional, not like some bloke who just started stripping off in the September sun when you inevitably find yourself having to remove or add layers throughout the day. I tend to stick to similar colours or shades for my base and middle layers, and then either keep it going with my outer layer or purposely contrast it. I once read an interview with Scott Kerr from Carhartt WIP where he said older generations of British men have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to layering.
Once Dad’s looked out of the window for a couple of seconds he can work out exactly how many layers you need that day. Sat here right now in glorious Spring sunshine, my dad could look out of his window and accurately predict I’d be going with gilet over shirt, as opposed to heavy jumper. Slightly jel envious of how spot on he regularly is.
Asked him about it the other day and he actually looked puzzled that I thought his layering abilities were something special, rather than just common sense. <img class=”size-full” src=”http://joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/im1979_learning-how-to-layer.jpg” alt=”im1979 learning how to layer” /> I also love how you can kinda trace the evolution of mens layering through our heroes in menswear. Barbour and Belstaff built their entire companies around waxed cotton overshirts; Sunspel and James Tailor sell nothing but as lightly- or heavily-layered Brits please; Urban outfitters like Toast and Common folk craft entire collections from merino t-shirts and layered shirts. Throw in the Gilet/mezzle/pr IMDb jacket and it’s fair to say we take our layers seriously.
Be grateful for it. The past few years I’ve spent refining my personal layering game have taught me a lot about what works and what doesn’t–most of which I’ve picked up by people watching. That guy on the train station platform who’s seamlessly blended layers together so subtly you can’t even see where one starts and another ends.
Office workers who look like they could step out of their air conditioned offices right onto the street, despite having made their morning commute via the Piccadilly Line. My friend Vijay, who stepped off a bus in the Peak District last April with what looked like a standard sized messenger bag on his back, yet proceeded to effortlessly peel off a whopping 5 DIFFERENT layers–each of which he stored in that aforementioned bag–as the weather decided to run through the seasons. <img class=”alignnone size-full” src=”http://assets.bizjournals.com/princeton/news-blog/Screen-shot-2014-06-06-at-9-48-01-AM*599.jpg” alt=”” width=”700″ height=”393″ /> One of the most important (’had I but known’styled) tricks I’ve learnt over the years is sometimes less is more–but ONLY if you invest in good pieces. Three, high-quality layers that you actually LIKE wearing is infinitely better than five budget ones.cool…you just feel stupid wearing an extra layer that you hate.
Thick cable-knit Jumpers don’t need layering underneath. A good Shetland jumper from your grandfather will warm you better than two thin acrylic ones on top of each other. It’s all about working smarter, not harder.
The art of proper layering is checking yourself and feeling like you could pop down to Sainsburys, only to find you’ve got way more than enough clothing on to do just that. It’s stripping down to your underwear in death-defying summer heat because you thought you needed that jumper, only to get inside and realise so everyone else did. It takes years of mistakes to master.
But once you do you can spend the rest of your life smugly watching stupid tourists/getting caught out by sudden rainclouds like everybody else.
I’ve experimented layering techniques from all over the world. Scandinavianic guys tend to be all about the high tech kit.
Italians just layer for the sake of layering–often at the expense of actual practicality. Americans generally go much bigger and heavier with their layers. But there’s something wonderfully British about our approach–the understated style, the refusal to be caught out.
Get it right and you’ve nailed what every British man should wear, every single day. Next time you find yourself out and about on a typical British day (you know the ones–those where you experience all four seasons before lunch), take a look around you at your fellow Britons. Learn from that scarved-up old bus driver who looks like he could survive an arctic blast, but won’t break a sweat if the sun decides to come out.
That battered Barbour might just have enough layers stashed in its various pockets to keep you warm for weeks. That seemingly thin-as-radiator-rod mac might just be the beginning of a carefully curated layering system. And that messenger bag your English friend has nonchalantly thrown over his shoulder?
Probably also contains a mid-layer, packable-jacket, and beanie hat to keep your head warm.
