Last Tuesday, I got caught in a biblical deluge. You know the sort. The sort that pelts down from steely-grey clouds so heavily that the rain actually rebounds off the ground.

The sort that makes even the guttering struggle and fills taxi windows with pitying groans as you wave and wave at passing drivers,abies clutching your precious coat under one arm. You know. The worst.

And yet. Still.

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I.

Was. Not. Prepared. (Image credits: MOUNTAIN EQUIPMENT) It was cruel.

Because I was wearing what I thought was a weatherproof jacket. One that had cost me £300, comeplete with weaterproof prominently displayed in the online description. Weatherproof my arse.

Twenty minutes and several swear-words soaked into the fabric later, I sloshed home looking like an extra from The Life Of Brian. The Great British Raincoat is the holy grail of coats. Like the perfect pair of jeans or that illusive nirvana-state of owning a handyman you can actually trust.

You think you’ve found it – that jacket that will keep you truly, TRULY dry – only for Mother Nature to chuck down some of her infamous winter drizzleshit and watch it all seep through anyway. I’ve been writing about men’s style for fifteen years now, and in that time, I’ve amassed quite the collection of jackets designed to keep my upper half dry. The rail in my hallway contains enough waxed cotton, gore-tex, densely-woven wool and other hi-tech fabrics named after Himalayan mountain passes and Atlantic storms to make an expedition supremely well-equipped. “You don’t need all those coats,” said my dad at his last visit.

Northern-folk way of saying you’ve got WAY too many without actually saying it. “Yeah well,” I said bitterly, “research. And job requirements.” Truth is, I’m still in the hunt for The One. The Holy Coat Of Rainbows that will perform miracles without costing me a month’s salary, making me look like an idiot outdoorsy lecturer on my way to Sainsbury’s or – crime of crimes – letting me get soaked through.

Alright. Let’s ditch the obvious stuff. Yes.

Burberry make great raincoats. Yes so does Mackintosh. And yes, so does Aquascutum.

We all know this. Those stalwart British heritage brands have been keeping Her Majesty’s arsehole dry since the bloody Victorians. But aside from the small detail of also needing to feed myself and pay rent each month (in addition to dry clothes on my back, heaven forbid), they’re bloody expensive.

Trying on the last Burberry trench coat I deemed affordable enough to try on (£625) felt a lot like buying a car. A really nice car. If, when buying that really nice car, you tried it on in fitting rooms.

Complete with sales assistant asking if you’d “like to try some shoes to go with?” It really is the furthest you can get from buying functional outdoor wear. Yes it’s waxed cotton. Yes it’ll probably last you until you’re wheeled out of MUJI in a box.

But at that price, it bloody better. Mountain brands. As in, companies that specialise in extreme outdoor pursuits, rainwear designed to be at home on an Alpine ridge more than Oxford Street.

Think less Big Agnes tent, more North Face backpack. Now, before you say it. Yes.

I know North Face and Patagonia make great rain jackets. But. These brands are primarily clothes-shop friendly so should also tick your packing/free-up-space-in-your-london-flat boxes.

They also mean you avoid the ‘I stopped hiking/poloing/climbing Mount EVEREST when I moved to London five years ago’’ douchebageroonie vibe that some of the more niche brands project. (Image credits: Mountain Hardware) THE best place to start, in my opinion, is Derbyshire-based Rab. Highly technical jackets built to withstand the lashings of a Lake District downpour (God help you if you wore one of their technical coats to the countryside, they’d laugh you out of shop). Not cheap, more £150-£250 territory.

But then that’s because these are coats that can genuinely save your life out on the fells. Or at least keep you from catching pneumonia on your morning commute. Pick one of their more simple styles – you don’t need fifteen pockets you’ll never use for metropolitan adventures – and invest in something built to last.

Specifically, I’m talking about their Downpour jacket. Technical enough to keep you dry and warm, but also packs down nice and small so it can live rent-free in your suitcase all summer. They do them in bright colours that you’ll look like a child trying to cross the road in, but also in plenty of tones that won’t send you flashing luminously through Piccadilly Circus.

Plus. They actually work. I bought mine three years ago and it still hasn’t failed me yet.

Something that – let me tell you – cannot be said for more than one coat I own triple that price. Obviously, the trick to buying mountain coats is looking at their less technical ranges. You don’t need the escalating plethora of pockets/features on built-for-the-hills coat for urban life.

Cheque out their “lifestyle” collections for simpler cuts and designs that won’t have you feeling like you really are out hiking in the Peak District every time you wear it. Mountain Equipment’s Squall Hooded Jacket has been my go-to on seriously shitty weather days for the last two winters. Retails at around £190 but goes down often enough that you can probably snap one up in the sales.

It’s also possibly the best-performing rain ‘coatcoat’ I’ve ever owned. Plus it doesn’t look too shabby either. Especially in navy.

Ok, so if mountains feels too mountain-y for you (it’s not, I promise!) cheque out some of the traditional British country brands. Yeah yeah, before you scroll on…I know what you’re thinking. Hotdogs-on-a-string romney-lad-weight coats aren’t exactly everyday appropriate, or so you believe.

Trust me on this. Brands like Barbour and Joules have seriously upped their technical rainwear game in the last few years. Barbour’s Bedale Jacket is legendary for a reason – easier to ruin than their classic jackets due to the technical coating, but with proper care (and yearly re-waxing) they’re about as durable as they come.

A bit pricey at £250 but worth it if you can swing it. Not sure about you, but a waxed jacket in June doesn’t cut the mustard when horizontal staircases of rain are blasting down outside. Thankfully they’ve lighter weight Bedale Jr and newer range of waterproof-breathable jackets that look much more modern and start at £180.

Lets say you’re really on a budget (and hey,aren’t we all these days?) Here’s a little secret of mine. Go to actual outdoorsy equipment shops instead of fashion retailers. Hit up Go Outdoors, Decathlon or Millets instead of ASOS or John Lewis.

Stocking brands like Craghoppers and Regatta, you can pick up perfectly serviceable raincoats for £50-£100 that will keep you dry for years to come. Not cutting-edge fashion? No.

Will probably keep you dry until the heat death of the universe? You betcha. One of my mates is a cameraman so spends pretty much 24/7 outside filming.

Usually while stood in a field in the rain waiting for horses to jump over things. He’s been swearing by his £60 Craghoppers jacket for years. “Mate, five years and not a drop through,” was his answer when I burbled on about how much my £300 bastard let me down. Sound like it can handle your journey from Central Line to work?

It can and will. (Image credits: finisterre) Buy from actual outdoor gear companies, basically my point here. Specifically, buy military surplus gear. Tommee tips: your local army surplus shop.

Trust me on this. Tested by men and women who have to operate in the mother of all weathers WHILE carrying heavy kit AND potentially being shot at. You, meanwhile, just have to cycle to work and back.

So go full Rambo with your gear shopping. British military grade Gore-Tex jackets retail from as little at £100 inc tax on sites like Silvermans and are about as waterproof as things come. Caveat?

They’ll probably be camo. Or olive. But trust me, spending an extra tenner on an ex RAF green cotton duck jacket on ebay is worth it when your blowinglywetting-through-best-friend’s-wedding-blazer raincoat gets you drenched.

Plus, mine’s only cost me £85 and has seen me through enough storms to last three lifetimes. If it’s something you actually want to wear to the office without screaming ‘Hi, I DO Mountain-marathons EVERY weekend’ clap your hands together then UNIQLO is your secret weapon. Their BlockTech range of coats for about £90 offer pretty dang impressive levels of waterproofing for such a minimalist jacket.

They won’t cut it for actual mountainous terrain or staring glumly at people playing football through November, but they’re great for the city. The cotton blend options have that MAC feel instead of hiking-gear rookie and are slim enough that you can layer under coats without bulking out like The Michelin Man. Basically, outstanding value for money for what they are.

Of course the high street *isn’t *all terrible when it comes to rainwear. Don’t @ me. Marks & Spencer has really stepped up it game over the last few years.

Stormwear isn’t an exaggeration – the coating actually WORKS. Pick up one of their solid macs for around £80-£120. I was scathing until a lovely stylist friend recommended their nylon cotton blend rain mac in navy.

Now I’ve bought two. Will they completely sodding fell apart next time it buckets down? Possibly.

Are they 100% adequate at protecting me from most British ‘rain situations’ and won’t make me stick out like a sore-thumb in the office? You betcha. Now hear me out on this one.

I feel slightly ludicrous writing about sustainability given how much outdoor/coated I buy. But y’know what? Quality lasts longer and if you treat it right, you won’t be buying a replacement every year when your £50 ‘raincoat’ falls apart.

Brands like Finisterre, the Cornish benefactors of everything windswept and rainy up and down the country, start at £150 and offer lifetime repair guarantees should things go wrong. So instead of expected you to just buy a new coat, they’llpatch you back up. Over in the US, Patagonia run a similar program called Worn Wear.

Some parting advice on raincoat essentials that apply whatever budget you choose… Seams, sealable or taped. Non-negotiable. No amount of waterproof coating is going to help if your raincoat’s got Actual Stitching That Rain Can Leak Through.

Ask me how I know. A hood that actually stays up, and isn’t one of those little bib-style fashion things that merely LOOKS like a hood in the changing room but will flap around your head in any kind of gust. Length matters too.

Remember when cropped jackets were the devil because men had been tricked into thinking they’d still look stylish with their thighs exposed? Wear a hoodie. All of them.

Every.single.one. Thighs get wet FAST when it’s raining sideways. Cover yours. (Image credits: Rains ) Speaking of which, my go-to everyday raincoat is this Rains jacket I picked up about three years ago.

Proper投资公司 in matte black that goes with everything. Jeans, suits, dress trousers. Doesn’t matter.

It’s gone through so much that the coating is starting to wear off in patches but for about £110, I can’t complain too much.

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Not the best on the market by a long shot but 99% of days, it’ll keep me bone dry. Packs down super small too, so lives permanently in my bag ready for action.

Truthfully, I think we’re all still hunting for that Holy-Grail coat. Britain has defined us as a nation from our very core – not just geographically but sartorially. But that doesn’t mean you have to spend more than your monthly food shop to avoid looking like a drowned rat on your way to work.

A little know-how, digging through technical brands vs actual clothes shops, and maybe just accepting that sometimes form DOES have to bend to function. Because trust me on this. There’s nothing more office-awkward than huddled around the remnants of your tea in a meeting while a rapidly-expanding puddle forms at your feet. *Buy*umbrellas, guys.

Umbrellas. With vents. Ones that won’t invert on you the second you open them.

Belt and braces, eh Britain?

Author carl

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