It was 11: 37pm when I received a text from my friend Pete that read: “MATE HELP wedding tomorrow no idea what to wear black tie optional WTF DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???”. Pete, bless him, is one of the smartest men I know – one who works in technology and could explain blockchain to me in forensic detail but who it seems is a lord of chaos when it comes to deciphering a dress code. It’s nothing new.
I receive these texts all the time. Put a British man on the spot when it comes to “what is appropriate to wear”, and he will panic. Part of me thinks this is because we currently live in purgatory – not quite as formal as our fathers were expected to be but without having informal enough dress codes of our own.
This leaves us in a nation of miserable men who want to dress well but aren’t entirely sure how. I should know – I got it spectacularly wrong as a young lad in Manchester many times.
The interview for my first job at asoftware company that I turned up in a black suit and purple tie (I looked like I was aiming to be a snooker referee).
The first date I took Mary, my girlfriend at the time, to a casual boozer down the corner and I wore a blazer. She asked if we were “going somewhere smart later?” (we weren’t). The wedding of a friend who said casual dress where I took casual to mean smart casual and ended up overdressed next to the guy in a t-shirt and wellies.
It stung my ego as a younger man every time but also helped me realise that knowing how to dress isn’t about knowing the rules – it’s about understanding the occasion before you’ve even arrived. And that’s something we can all learn. Dress codes.
The workplace. If I had to sum up the seismic shift in British offices over the last 50 years in one sentence it’d be: It’s not what you’re expected to wear it’s what your boss wears. My father could walk into work each day for his 9-5 job and know that suit, tie, shirt, and shiny shoes = work attire.
Done. No questions asked. These days it’s anything but straightforward.
I’ve popped into tech companies where the CEO rocked up in flip-flops. I’ve wandered around City law firms where wearing anything shorter than a three-piece suit would’ve been deemed having nothing on. Plus-size menswear is a nightmare for this very reason.
My friend Raj started a job at a big ol’ consultancy firm who’s dress code was “dress appropriately for your day”. He spent his first month working there scouring the office each morning trying to work out what the fuck he was supposed to wear that day based on what everyone else wore. “Trust me,” he said to me down the pub one night after I asked him about it, “it makes life easier if you Google ‘wear to work’ before you leave the house.” He went on to explain clients days = suit, no tie. Internal meeting days = chinos and shirt.
WFH days = whatever was clean. Fast forward a few years, and I’ve realised the easiest way to get it right without thinking about it too much is to have a uniform. One that you can layer up and down with ease.
For me, that’s trousers (not jeans but not suit trousers – a smart-casual trouser), a decent shirt, a navy blazer to wear or remove depending on formality, and good shoes. Ones that you’d feel confident polishing if you had to. Trust me, the shoes people wear to work say more about their company’s dress code than the handbook.
Don’t get me wrong, knowing the basics of how to dress smart for work is only the tip of the iceberg. There are an abundance of social occasions that can catch you out if you let them. Weddings.
Garden parties. Hen dos. Funerals. (Yes, even funerals).
British weddings. Ah, British weddings. Formal dress codes galore.
You’d think we invented suits just so we can be confused about them on our wedding days. Here’s the thing. In the UK, “formal” doesn’t just mean one thing.
I once had the extreme misfortune of going to two “formal” weddings on consecutive weekends. Wedding 1 was in Surrey where almost every man arrived in a morning suit. Wedding 2 was in Glasgow and morning suits were few and far between with most men wearing traditional suits in some shade of grey or navy.
Unless specified, British people (like to) assume others will interpret “formal” differently to them. There are also regional differences across the UK that no one thinks to mention. Unless you’re from Newcastle it would be abnormal to wear a shirt with a hoodie to a smart night out on Saturday.
In parts of London that might just be called fancy dress. If someone from Cornwall says casual dress for a garden party you’ll still need to wear a blazer. But say casual invite for a barbecue in my hometown and not only can you wear shorts, but jeans are absolutely acceptable too (as long as they’re not your running ones).
My rule of thumb with dress codes is always to assume people will dress both more and less smart than you. And to wear somewhere in the middle with the ability to smarten up or down should you need to. Arrived at a house party and realise everyone’s wearing shirts?
Throw your blazer on. Show up and everyone’s in jeans and t-shirts? Roll your sleeves up and unbutton your shirt one notch.
Special occasion venues with made up dress codes. And this is what throws most British men – I think – into a state of panic or makes us worry ridiculously about the precise definitions of words we would never use to describe our wardrobe. Add “optional” to the end of anything and suddenly we don’t know which option we should pick. “Black tie optional” threw Pete into turmoil because black tie, to him, meant one thing.
But add optional to that and now he doesn’t know if he should wear that thing or not. Thankfully, I have been through all this so you don’t have to. Here is my key British formal dress code guide: Black tie = dinner jacket (yes, that is the correct term, not the jumpers your mum bought you at Christmas twenty years ago), bow tie, shirt with either studs or covered placket, and no crinkle-y shiny black shoes with pointy noses.
Patent leather Oxfords are traditional, black Oxfords if that’s all you have. Black tie optional = the hosts will be wearing black tie but understand that not everyone will own a dinner jacket. So…dark suit.
Your nicest dark suit. With a plain white shirt and something subdued around your neck. Lounge suit =sounds excessively high-class doesn’t it?
But it’s just a suit. Pick one out your wardrobe and forget you read that. Just make sure it’s not too light in colour, not too bold in pattern, and yes, navy or grey is always smart.
Smart casual=I could write a whole blog on this alone but my go-to smart casual outfit is trousers with some texture to them (chinos are always a winner), a shirt with some pattern or at least not completely plain, and shoes. Not trainers. Not Oxfords you could shine till the cows come home.
Somewhere in between. Casual=See smart casual but instead of trousers, wear jeans. Not weird distressed, hipster jeans.
Jeans that you wouldn’t be embarrassed to answer the door in. Please note – I know what you’re thinking. This is annoying.
What if I just wore what I wanted? And you’d be right. But Britain isn’t one of these countries.
Wear what you want and people will judge you for wearing brown shoes with a navy suit (true story). Or they’ll have on three Michelin stars and you’ll feel like you’ve wandered into the wrong party. Ultimately, it comes down to this – you’re acknowledging a certain standard with your attire and showing respect to the host by matching it.
It’s not telling you to never wear a white shirt with black trousers but if you do it means you probably shouldn’t turn up wearing a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops. Wedding blurred the lines between black tie and cocktail and knew exactly what he was talking about when he asked me. I once saw the face of someone who thought he’d accidentally dressed too casually at his best friends wedding.
He spent the whole service trying to hide slightly visible stains on his trousers from his new wife. It was mortifying. I’ve also seen the other end of the spectrum; men who’ve walked into smart pubs straight from the office feeling way too dressed up to blend in with the casual-shirts men drinking beer out of cans.
Neither of these scenarios are great, nor comfortable for the man that finds himself caught out. You’d think that knowing your black tie from your lounge suit would be enough. But no.
You then need to factor in the location of said event. Formal weddings in financial districts are never going to be as black tie as your relatives best mate’s wedding at a stately home. So here’s my generic British dress code guide, taking into account location too: City/Financial District = expect everyone to be wearing a suit.
Even the groom’s mum. Suburban/Exurban = suits are still expected but not 100% needed. Smart shirts for men should do the trick.
Countryside = depending on the venue, smart casual might actually be appropriate. Think jacket compulsory, not necessarily suit jacket. Town/Urban = it depends on the invitation.
If it doesn’t say casual on the invite it’s safest to wear a jacket of some sort. If you’re still lost at this point, just message the person who sent you the invite. Ask them. “Mate, looking forward to Saturday.
Just checking, are we smart?” Problem solved. And 99 times out of 100 the person will be grateful you asked.
So, Pete.
Weddings that said black tie optional. Your finest dark suit that isn’t black, a plain white shirt, something subdued around your neck, and smart black shoes that’ve been polished within an inch of their life. “You won’t be the smartest person there. And you won’t be the least smart person there,” I told him. “You’ll fit right in.
And that’s the point.” He text me back from the wedding this morning: “dodged a bullet there. Groom and best men in black tie. Half the other guys were too.
Rest wore suits. Felt totally comfortable.” See? That’s all dressing for an occasion is.
So you don’t feel out of place. So you can forget about your clothes and just enjoy yourself.
