When I first visited Edinburgh I made the mistake of packing as though I were still living in Manchester. It was mid-October: light jacket, standard denim, a pair of those trendy canvas trainers that look cool until someone mentions the rain and suddenly your feet are soaked. Stepped off the train at Waverley and nearly got blown back to Newcastle.
Fuck me in trousers did that wind pierce through my clothes. Straight up blitz me. Ended up buying a scarf from the nearest charity shop (you can’t bargain in Edinburgh, they sneeeew at you) which was some hideously expensive tartan monstrosity and looked like an American discovering he was born Scottish for the rest of my trip.
Jump forward several years and I’m still guilty of these regional fashion mishaps. Arrived at a summer event in Newcastle wearing my lightest suit because “it’ll be fine, don’t be silly” only to freeze solid for two hours. “IT’S JUNE!” I kept screaming inside my head. “DON’T THEY KNOW JUNE IS SUMMER IN THE UK?” NORTH-EASTERNERS JUST SNIGGERED IN THEIR WOOLLY SOCKS.
British men’s style differs wildly depending on where you are.If you squint at a map of the UK you’ll see we’re the same country but geographically our wardrobes are as diverse as our accents.
From the things we wear to keep warm to the industries that dominate our regions, British style has been shaped by the landscape, the weather and of course regional pride. Scotland obviously. See above.
Edinburgh guys, in particular, dress well. You’re wearing heavy wool coats FOR A REASON father, and those coats will last years – not throw away after Christmas like some silly lil costume. I’ll be wearing my nicer suit to weddings and stag dos and funerals until the end of time.
As will his two ushers, both born-and-bred Edinburgh lads wearing tweed of an equally serious cut and make. Proper tweed, not “fashion tweed” you’d mock if you saw a Londoner wearing it to look rugged for a bit of lunchtime shopping in Shoreditch. These guys were dressed for climbing hills and fighting off llamas.
But hey, we Scots are prepared. (The Glasgow boys I met drinking in the pub last night were more on the sharp/traditional chic side. Glasgow has style – believe me, I lived there for years – but there’s a hint of arrogance that comes from having a functioning fashion scene. One had on the snuggest fitting Navy overcoat I’ve seen in years, certainly something you couldn’t get south of the border.
When I asked him where it was from he namedropped some local brand I’d never heard of before giving me a look of sheer disdain. “Best jacket in Scotland, everyone knows that” Yeah… I didn’t but I didn’t say that out loud.) Even our relationship with obviously Scottish garments like kilts is less hysterical and try-hard than you’d expect. Kilts aren’t for everyone but the guy wearing one at breakfast this morning was rocking a pair of pristine Common Projects trainers with it. Worked so well and I guarantee he didn’t think about it in the way that some trend-scouting London journo would just to write about “subverting heritage fashion norms or whatever”.
London, of course, has its own divisions. You’ve still got your standard City guys – lots of navy, lots of charcoal, lots of suits. But there’s far less professionalism now we’ve recovered from lockdown laughter.
Those dickheads who would openly scoff at seeing you wearing a t-shirt with your suit are now quietly asking you where you got your “smart casual stuff that doesn’t look smart-casual”. London is tribal in an almost coded way. The way someone dresses can tell you what line of work they’re in, quite often the specific company they work for just by the subtle nuances of their outfit.
Gazette gossip in their distinctly-too-high-key rumpled Oxford shirts and can-you-believe-he-pays-that-much-for-shoes loafers. Tech bros in their God-awful Patagonia gilets layered over everything (the businessman’s evolution of the fleece, RIP). Fucking East London “creatives” with their Japanese workwear trousers and outrageously expensive haircuts that they clearly spend two hours on but swagger around like they cut themselves (I hate you).
Put me in a room of northerners and I’ll still stick out like a dickhead with a bright orange jumpsuit. Last month I walked into a posh tailoring shop in Mayfair and the assistant asked me where I was from before I’d even uttered a word. Apparently my Northern need “to make an effort” (however that works) is clear as day to anyone who’s not used to men proudly wearing trousers with pockets.
You Might Also Like
London men have spent generations tricking each other into thinking they don’t care about their outfits so that when they wear a £1k suit and £400 shoes, no one questions it. Up North we just own the shit out of wanting a nice shirt. Not forgetting the Midlands – oh my god Birmingham’s such a vibe right now.
Post industrial, less precious than London but with incredible attention to detail. Cousin of mine moved down from Manchester five years ago and now wears shop-soaped custom suits like he’s Keith from Peaky Blinders but…chicer? Edgier?
I don’t know Brum’s fashion scene, you tell me. Bristol! Is there a trendy person in the world who doesn’t give zero fucks about Bristol’s dress sense?
They were rocking hiking gear as everyday clothes before hiking gear was cool. God blessya. And Belfast.
Male style in Belfast will forever have the edge over the rest of the UK for me just because of how easy the guys seem to dress. Traditional masculine attire? They’ve got it.
But not one minger dressed like his grandad or trying too hard or walking around like he only puts air between his big calves. Best dressed wedding I’ve been to was in Belfast, full stop. It goes without saying that our weather informs every decision us men make.
Hell, that’s why Scottish men know how to layer, why guys from Newcastle can wear a t-shirt on a night out in February (THE SCIENCE IS TREMBLING) and why you’ll still see London men sporting leather shoes come July. Ask any man down south where to buy a rain jacket and you’ll get laughed out the street. Pub jackets.
We all have one. The coat you reserve purely for the pub that’s coated in enough wax/canvas/material-that-doesn’t-show-spills-to-last you through drinking rubber-necking at traffic accidents. Northern pub jackets will differ from those in the South (waxed cotton vs. technical fabric vs. tailored wool) but they all have the same job: surviving trips to our favourite national institution.
Smart-casual. Speaking of jobs, London men still take the smartest outfits.
But travelling north for work always reminds me that UK cities have their own uniform.
Smart-casual in Manchester is slightly smarter than London. Edinburgh I keep technical because fuck that rain. London I reserve my special statement-pieces for because I know I’ll see ten guys wearing the same exact hoodie as me.
If you ever visit a new British city, study the local lads. It’ll tell you everything you need to know about how shirt up its residents are trying to dress. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a reason we’re the best dressed men’s fashion nation in the world.
We’re setting trends globally right now. But there’s something kind of special about celebrating the regions. Living in a world of instant trend transmission via Instagram means we’re now seeing trends break in Cardiff and Carlisle at the exact same time.
But just because we all have access to the same information, that doesn’t mean we’re dressing the same. British regional style informs how we dress just as much as what we decide to wear.
