The best thing about British weather is that at least it gives British men something to talk about when we’re stuck in lifts with strangers on deadline weekends. But the worst thing about British weather has got to be those couple of weeks either side of each season where you just don’t know what the fuck you are supposed to wear. You know the weather I’m talking about – the transitional period where it seemingly manages to be 6° and 18° at the same time.
Bonus points if it rains too. Last Tuesday I left my house feeling positive about my choice of outfit. Lightweight jacket, medium jumper, chinos, decent boots.
Classic early spring. By lunchtime I was a sweaty mess.
By 4pm I could see my own breath – it had gone that cold.
And windy. The joy of British spring/autumn; you think you’ve nailed it and then BOOM: wind turbine placed strategically at your chin to highlight how much you’ve misjudged the weather. I eventually bought a scarf halfway to the Tube station to stop my teeth chattering.
Next thing I know, it’s become my seventh emergency scarf of the year because I once again didn’t pack warmly enough when leaving my flat. I probably should start keeping a scarf in my pocket between March and May but then that wouldn’t be fun would it? Think about what pisses British people off about our weather and chances are it’s something that happens during these in-between periods.
Last to arrive, first to leave. I want to blame the jets because that’s what my dad used to do anytime we complained about the weather as kids. Swings and roundabouts I guess.
Anyway, it’s during these ‘transitional’ periods (roughly March-May and Sept-Oct) where British style gets seriously tested. I’ve interviewed Giorgio Armani about the engineering of a true Italian shoulder. Tim Nоhlen talked me through his Colour Hive wardrobe looking for the exact shade of green he’d be wearing the following season.
I’ve interrogated multiple fashion editors on their knowledge of Margiela Lego bricks until they cried, only to be worn down with repeated questioning about ‘camera shades’ when it comes to predicting street style trends… And yes, before you ask, they all still get it wrong more often than not when it comes to our disgraceful British weather. Mother nature doesn’t care if you’re a服 style expert or if you spend your days buried under cuboidal tables analysing men’s style magazines – she hates you all equally.
My guy Vijay (real laugh guy who could somehow always arrive at university with hung shirtless despite our chaotic tiny living-situation) believes that half the reason British men have our whole signature style ‘je ne sais quoi’ is down to our inability to bank on solid weather patterns. “You see in Italy,” he explained over several beers,“they can plan their wardrobe around dependable seasons. Here? We have no idea what we’re gonna wake up to on a daily basis.
Promotes a certain pragmatism, doesn’t it?” Sure does. Ask any British person who has lived through an English summer what they think about our weather and nine times out of ten you’ll hear about how you have to prepare for all four seasons in the space of one day. It’s the ultimate British bummer.
Talk about transitional seasons will often come down to questions about ‘transitional pieces’ and yes, whilst there are a few that will definitely come in handy, I’m not totally convinced that ‘buying things specifically for these 6-week windows we get fucked over with every year’ is the best way forward when it comes to looking good throughout Spring/ Autumn. Instead, my advice would be to focus on everything else. Layers, my British brethren.
Layering is key. Not the Tumblr-core bs where some svelte wander-lust carries three jumpers over a hoodie and still looks like he spent half the day in a laminator. No – I’m talking about actually layering in a way that works for everywhere from office micro-climate to ice-house tube stations to the aforementioned wind tunnels you’ll find vaguely everywhere British cities like to position you in.
Work out how to layer effectively and you’ll never go wrong. TIL: I live only about five miles away from where I grew up but it wasn’t until I started breaking down my wardrobe by ‘weight’ and ‘warmth’ about five years ago that I truly understood the layers game. Suddenly everything made sense.
Light shirts, separated from slightly heavier shirts. Jumpers ordered from thin to thick. Jackets categorised by water and wind resistance.
Even my now ex-girlfriend thought I’d lost my marbles when she saw me pulling jumpers out of my wardrobe to create some sort of divisible-by-three (probably cleanliness-related) system. Accept firstly that your outfit will probably change between the time you leave your house and the time you finish work. Plan for both eventuality and reality.
That merino jumper you sling on over your shirt needs to look damn good under your jacket but also good enough on its own for when the sun decides it’s felt like showing itself at lunch. That overshirt you wear over your shirt needs to be just as applicable as an outer layer as it does an inner one, dependent on the time of day. Prepare for both and you’ll never go wrong.
Packing for Europe for the first time taught me this one – Essentially you’re just packing for a holiday….where your destination is literally just ‘work’, ‘lunch’ and ‘home’. And every season/back-to-school season these websites populate their sites with a billion articles telling you you’re doing it wrong if you don’t buy one of their genius layerable corduroy trousers. Newsflash: they’re speaking nonsense.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock* you will have heard people talk about these items plenty of times over the past few months. But that doesn’t mean you need buy one to follow my seasoned transitional dressing advice. *A sandstone rock in Dover might still get reception – Your lightweight mac/trench. Not the winter heaviness of yacht clubask-worthy models but also not so light that it feels like a glorified shower curtain when it does decide to spit rain at you.
Buy one with actual water resistance. Test it. Splurge if you have to.
Mine’s from Mackintosh and I honestly don’t know how many cheap supermarket raincoats it’s replaced already. It also features the ingenious removable gilet that buttons into the lining so you can wear it either as a jacket or a mid-layer when it warms up. Dead clever. -The ultimate overshirt.
Shirt. Jacket. Call it whatever you want but unless you have one of these bad boys in your wardrobe you’re doing transition wrong.
The iconic overshirt (yes, I went there) sits pretty much perfectly between shirt and jacket. Thin enough that you can wear it over say…just a shirt. But still provides enough warmth/coverage to be totally logical as an outer layer if need be.
My go-to at the moment is this beaut wool number from Universal Works. It’s got enough weight to it that you can happily leave the house with just that and a pair of trusty chinos on Saturdays but light/warm enough that it works plenty of trouser combinations too. -Layerable knitwear. Obvs.
But listen, when it comes to transitional knitwear there’s a few rules. Nothing too bulky. No weird boat necks that look weird jammed under a jacket.
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Think merino. This Tom Cridlin number I picked up fromMR PORTERis lightweight enough that you won’t bake in it at your desk but warm enough to actually do you some good when the temperature drops. And in greys and blues and blacks it basically goes with anything.
My transitional security blanket. – When it comes to trousers too many British men autumn into the trap of opting for either too heavy or too light. Big mistake. Either you’re sweating your arse off by lunchtime in your winter-weight trousers or your summer chinos are so lightweight they might as well be gym shorts when that first breeze blows through at the end of March.
There is a happy medium. Get yourself a pair of medium-weight cotton trousers. Something textured.
Something with a bit of weight to it. I’m currently LOVING theseJapanese selvedge chinosfrom Albam. Not cheap but then again they’ve basically seen me through all 3 seasons this year so far so they’re working out at roughly 50p wear.
Bargain. footwear often falls under ‘transitional conundrum’ category for me. Too soon for bl converse, too late for winter boots. etc. etc. I’ve found a good middle-ground recently in opting for leather derby shoes with Dainite rubber soles.
Smart enough to not look out of place in the office but sturdy enough to handle a surprise downpour without feeling like you’re trudging through it in wellies. Fail safe? Desert boots always autumn into this kind of grey area too.
Oh, and a word on shoes: waterproof your freakin’ desert boots guys. There’s nothing worse than that first step into a puddle in shoes that aren’t made for this shit. Trust me. – Scarves.
Speaking of which, one thing we as British men are oddly terrible at is wearing accessories. Hats get judged. Gloves are for children/ women/ Michael Gambon in Four Weddings.
Which somehow leaves scarves as the transitional MVP. Packable enough to not take up too much room if you don’t need them, but warm/ skin covering enough to change the entire look of your outfit when those afternoon temperatures drop. And please: use them.
My. MORE: GQ’s Guide To British Style Icons Who’ve Inspired Our Lead Editors BUY NOW:Field Faiceli Mac, £435, Mackintosh UK. BUY NOW: Field Jacket, £295, Mackintosh UK.
BUY NOW: Bond Overshirt, £190, Universal Works. BUY NOW: Saxton Crew Neck, £115, Jack Wills. BUY NOW: Our Legacy Twill Trousers, £125, Albam.
BUY NOW: Bradbury Shoe, £145, Church’s. Okay, so you’ve mastered the art of layering. You’ve accepted that your outfit will most likely drastically change between 9-5.
But what about beyond? When it comes to those extra touches that turn your generic September work outfit into something slightly more interesting, we as British men tend to struggle. Most of us wouldn’t be seen dead wearing a hat.
Scarves are reserved for the winter months and whilst gloves are absolutely acceptable to wear… actually, scratch that. Nobody wears gloves. We throw on coats as soon as it’s barely stopped raining and chuck them off the second there’s even a hint of a shiny sun cloud.
British men: we learn NOTHING. Whilst I’m no scarf-fiend come autumn I will often find myself digging one out of my bag when the temperature takes that sudden dip it loves doing around 4pm. Light enough to not feel weird not wearing when it’s warmed up, but warm enough to truly change the look of your outfit.
Case in point: we were shooting this article a couple of weeks back in Scotland (obvs) and it went from sunny-at-9am to raining-women-at-eleven, snowing-at-2pm and then sunny-but-wind-your-face-off at 5 when we were packing up. My Scottish photographer buddy? Laughed in the face of our weather.
Armed with a ridiculously lightweight wool scarf he pulled on and off layers throughout the day like he was some kind of Weather Coat Highlight Reel boss. Best lesson I learnt that day. Another oversight when it comes to our supposedly refined sense of style?
Jumping the gun. British people are the worst for this. See a couple of warm days in March and suddenly you’re wearing shorts.
Get half a day of sunshine in October and you suddenly think fleece-belt combos are a thing. Doesn’t matter how far in advance you see it either, come September we start buying jumpers like it’s Black Friday EVERY YEAR. Been there, done that.
Bought the fuckin’ t-shirt. If there’s one thing I’ll always learn from British weather, it’s dress for the morning you’re expecting but ALWAYS be prepared for it to suddenly decide that it’s actually March (or September) tomorrow. And British sunshine?
Please learn to fear us.
The sun comes out in England and we instantly break out the shorts. Ask anyone who’s lived in Italy longer than a week how Italians dress and nine times out of ten they’ll talk about how prepared they are for their universally dependable weather.
Over here? If it’s sunny at lunchtime we reckon it’s bikini weather. Learn from the Italians and wait it out.
You’ll thank us later. The one blessing our weird weather gives us though? Forces us to be creative with our wardrobes in a way that our continental rivals will never have to.
You learn quick here that that lightweight jumper you thought was pointless now actually looks great under your denim jacket. That scarf you only used to keep your knees warm in the winter doubles up nicely as a seat cushion when those fucker park benches decide to be weirdly damp one day in April. Make the best of it, guys.
