I happened to be shooting something in New York last autumn. Some shady deal I got roped into with an American brand – who shall remain nameless as we ended up not receiving any samples from them and instead photographed their competitors’ kit (blackmarketeering amirite?). At any rate, I was wandering around SoHo on a Tuesday lunchtime when a guy – not a bloody American, mind you, a New Yorker – stopped me and asked where I’d got my scarf.
It was one of those nondescript moments that you forget twenty seconds later. The scarf itself wasn’t anything to write home about: a charity shop purchase from the Oxfam in Manchester six years ago. Yellow.
Bright mustard yellow. I’d probably spent about £5 on it.
Wear-per-pound that thing must have paid for itself about ten times now. “Dig the pop of colour, man.” He tipped his cap.
He said it with a slight American accent that will forever make my teeth itch. “Really livens up the outfit.” Nice of him. I thanked him awkwardly and scurried away to my appointment, suddenly self-conscious about my entire outfit. I didn’t realise until I passed a shop window that he was actually right.
Beneath that cheerful mustard hue was me wearing THE epitome of British menswear; a navy BTWC overcoat, grey flannel trousers and dark brown brogues. If that doesn’t scream Brit, I don’t know what does. The scarf was fighting a battle just trying to make itself heard over those guys.
And do you know what? He was right – I was suffering from what I can only describe as uber Britishitus. British men LOVE neutrals.
From beige to dove grey to camel we can wax lyrical about how much those fifty shades have shaped our wardrobephilosophy. The nuances between duck egg and storm grey are debated just as fiercely as American wine enthusiasts compare Bordeaux to Burgundy. Colour though?
Now we hit a problem. The collective British consciousness associates bold colour with being punched by strangers on Saturday afternoon/eating cream buns in front of the TV/the Gap. Pick any brightly-dressed guy wandering around Piccadilly Circus and I’ll show you his Manchester City supporting dad.
We look at that massacre of colour hitting the streets of our capitals and we think one thing: Christ no thank you. Instead we flock to the beaches of our navy/grey/ beige islands and wonder why nobody talks about us! I have been that very guy for twenty five years.
Shamefully wear a wardrobe that poorly described as “navy and blue with occasional brown.” It’s basically the Millennial version of the Keeyslide programme. Here’s the thing though – I didn’t always wear that way. It’s not like we were born this colourless, we’ve just collectively looked at each other wearing colour and decided it was a bit MEhhh over time.
Mostly I think it was around the advent of Tom Ford at Gucci in 1985 we sort of..forgot. But enough of the moaning, lets talk about how we can actually wear colour in a way that doesn’t make us cringe or has the terrifyingly polite conversation with yourself where you just KNOW that poor sap working the Pret counter thinks you came straight from Sofia’s afterparty. The Rules: Forget everything you’ve heard/read/Instagrammed about pops of colour.
They are the jeggings of menswear and should be taken outside and summarily fired. ANYTHING you wear that shouts colour needs to fit into that same capsule wardrobe mentality; it needs to be versatile enough that you can build an entire wardrobe around it. Trust me, when you’re wearing that bright red jacket you’ll want outfits, not just accessories.
Time to dive into my Top Tips section: Historically speaking, Brits have NEVER stuck to navy, black, and grey. Case in point: Look at any portrait of an 18th century gent and you’ll be greeted by raging COLOUR. Light blues, pinks, yellow – the Georgians basically started the pink shirt trend and the Regency era was responsible for any colour you’ve seen Thom Browne wear in the past decade.
The Victorians too got some bad rep for being dull and cloudy but if you take a closer look at period photography, there’s a wealth of colour happening that we’re happily ignoring. Thank you very much, Mr.Morpeth Wyatt. Jamie runs that cool vintage shop in Marylebone.
He showed me a Britain-homespun military officer’s dress uniform from the 1950s with a forest green jacket that was the most divine shade of green I’ve ever seen. Colour has existed in this country, we’ve just collectively pretended it doesn’t since….ABOUT 1985. The easiest trick to wearing colour is JUMP straight into it with a bold suit.
Wait, hear me out – I promise I’m not becoming THAT guy who wears PANTONE OF THE GODDAMN YEAR jumpers to Pitti Uomo. Think more subdued tones; deeper shades of greens and blues that you may not have considered because you’ve been duped into buying “nude” socks that no self-respecting Mediterranean man has ever worn in their life. Last summer I wore a deep green suit to my cousin’s wedding instead of the blasé navy attendees were presumably wearing.
It wasn’t some crazy neptune blue either; a deep, dark green that could easily pass for black until you turn sideways. But god damn it did it make that fucking wool pop. Worn with a crisp white shirt and a subtly patterned gold jacquard tie, I felt like a million bucks and spent most of the day marvelling at how a bright blue suit would have looked absolutely slaughtered in that very same venue.
Tip: Pair brighter trousers with a subtle jacket to even out the overall look. But what if I want to wear brighter colours? TRUST ME, I know, we’ve been there – the longing for Coachella appropriate clothing has been real for YEARS – but there are certain colours that actually compliment our crappy-ass weather.
Ever notice how most “American” coloured clothes don’t actually look THAT great on us? Why? Because Miami Pink was not designed with grey cloudy skies in mind.
I love me some burnt orange as much as the next redrum wearingdictionary poser but thank Mother Nature for dour English weather because GREYS, OLIVES, MOSSES, and BURGUNDIES were made for those days. They have a richness and depth to them that compliment overcast skies and seasons, not fight against them. Mr.Davies was my old English teacher – I still have nightmares about him catching me asleep during his lectures,although the older I get the worse those pop quizzes on WWII European conflicts sound.
RIP Keith Flint. Mr.Davies was a master of the ‘British rebel’ look before we even knew that was a thing. Trenchcoat almost exclusively filled with Harris Tweeds in every colour known to man.
When I bumped into him (…side-eyed) at a book signing years later he was still wearing jackets but now sported a beautiful burnt orange cashmere scarf that paired divinely with his now vintage looking tweed jacket. Learn from old Mr.Davies: try your brighter colours with classic British staples. Why British staples?
Accessories. Think pocket squares, bright ties, socks, and even swapping your leather watch strap for navy or even green NATO’s. These smaller items are perfect for easing into colour; they literally hang off you.
This gorgeous knitted tie I own in a deep gold/yellow hue is possibly the only reason anyone ever notices my grey suits. Cost me a tenner from a tiny wee shop in Edinburgh about nine years ago and I still wear the shit out of it. Balance is key with this approach.
If you’re going to wear a brighter coloured piece, keep the rest of your outfit fairly muted and simple. My boy Vijay rocks the bright rollneck often but always balances it with a charcoal suit and leaving the crazy trainers at home. It screams “I know how to use colour” vs “Does this bright ass jumper make my bum look big?” Fabric, texture, and sheen can make or break how a certain colour translates when you wear it.
Sure, that bright blue suit may look cool as hell online (WHERE ARE YOU BUYING SUITS TOMMY?) but if it’s some sort of sweat shimmer nightmare, you’re instantly transported to a Timmy The Trombone wannabe Airbnb in Williamsburg. That same blue but in a flat wool or linen fabric looks infinitely more premium and…British. That’s why you can get away with wearing Forest Green waxed Barbour for years but an actual forest green polyester windbreaker will have you pegged as a yuppie gymgoer the second you step into town.
Learned this lesson the hard way when I bought what I thought was a classy burgundy jumper online. Turns out it was some kind of horrific SYNTHETIC MATERIAL that clingwrapped me and basically screamed “IM INTELLECTUAL! !” upon first glance. Ruined the entire look and had me resembling Nick Grimshaw pre-makeover.
Swapped it for a similar colour in brushed Shetland wool months later and haven’t looked back. I was drinking a beer with my dad at his local the other week. Him: Still strictly navy-blue-or-nothing that thinks black tie equals literally just wearing a black tie with a dark suit.
Young lad walks in wearing a camel overcoat and a deep red scarf. Nothing overtly showy, but DAMN did he look put together. Dad looked at him and grunted: “Bit much isn’t it.” Kid you not, Dad giving side eyes to colour circa 1987.
Guess what I looked like when I was 7 marching around the house wearing his suit jacket and THAT paisley fucking tie. It’s not actually disdain; British men think EVERYONE wears navy and blacks so when they see you wearing something remotely interesting they’re just impressed that you pulled it off. More importantly though, they’re worried they can’t.
Start small if you need to.
No one is asking you to show up to work wearing a hot pink suit next Monday (although honestly, balls to it if you do). Maybe start with replacing that navy jumper with a burgundy one or trying out that dark green overcoat instead of your go-to blacks and greys.
Just OWN IT. There’s nothing worse than someone wearing something exciting yet apologetic about the entire time they’re wearing it; you know the guy, “Bit bright isn’t it? Nah I don’t know why I’m even wearing this.” Trust me, we’ve got enough Judys in menswear, own your colours kids.
Fact: David Bowie wore more colour than most of us will probably ever own. Ozwald Boateng taught us how to print our entire bodies and Paul Smith does everything BUT navy and grey. We came from a culture that was oozing with colour and self-expression, we just forgot about it under oceans of grey-wash polos and navy jumpers.
Time to bring a little Colourosaurus back into our lives. Just maybe leave the fucking ruffled collars and tricorn hats out of it. Although…with how fast menswear is going, who THE FUCK knows we’ll look like in 2026.
