Dress appropriately. It’s such a British instruction. Concise yet obscenely vague, heavily loaded with social convention but ultimately of no practical use whatsoever.
Last month I received an invitation to a friend’s birthday with those three words on it. I text him back asking for clarification and he replied “You know… appropriate.” Cheers bud. Thanks a bunch.
But, “dress appropriately” what does that even mean? Appropriate for the occasion?
Appropriate for the people you’ll be with?
Appropriate compared to what? Whoever thought up that dress code has basically baked ambiguity into the concept itself. Which I suppose is the second-most British thing about it.
The most British thing about it is the assumption that you already know what those unwritten rules are. Don’t worry, my many years of anxiety over these kinds of invitations have yielded a comprehensive guide to dressing appropriately across the spectrum of British social occasions. Allow me to be your interpreter. Weddings.
If it’s a daytime church service with dinner or reception in a country house or hotel, you’re expected to wear a suit (dark for winter, lighter is summer) with a tie. Not your everyday suit, though. Your wedding suit.
There’s unspoken art to subtly communicating through fabric textures, shades, stitching and style that this is not a day at the office, you HAVE worn a suit today. A pocket square is useful for this. As is wearing a tie that isn’t necessarily your work tie, but still isn’t too adventurous.
Morning suit vs lounge suit is also dictated by the couple’s respective families. Are they rich and linked with old boys’ clubs? Expect morning suits.
Are they both grads who met at uni and work in digital media arts? Normal suits are perfectly fine. Rule of thumb: ask the best man.
He’ll know. Asking the groom what you should wear is asking too much. He’s probably thinking about that too.
I made this mistake at my university friend Simon’s wedding. I rocked up in what I thought was a sharp charcoal suit only to realise every other guy was wearing a morning suit and I stuck out like a drunken City banker who’d gatecrashed the ceremony. The father of the bride even asked me at one point if I was there to take photos.
Er, no… I was there because YOU invited me. Country house weekends. Now we’re talking about “appropriate” levels of dressing that verge on ensembles.
The reason this works is because you’ll technically be wearing four different outfits in one weekend; day clothes that aren’t too flashy or urban, night clothes (possibly black tie, clarify ahead of time) and then outdoor gear, plus what you wear on Sunday for lunch. Nobody wants to see your Sunday-best clothes dirtied by grass during a spot of poohching. Outdoor gear should ideally not look too new either.
There’s nothing more “posh tourist” than brand new Hunter wellies. Spend a little extra on second hand ones that’ll blend into the array of boat shoes, waxed jackets and BarbourDs you’ll see scattered around any genuine country house. The secret is worn-looking fabric. Nothing too technical, you’re not going climbing Ben Nevis.
A classic waxed cotton jacket or Harris tweed should fit the bill. Ideally in shades of green or brown, to continue the aesthetic. Notice how I said aesthetic?
You aren’t going shooting this weekend. But it helps if you look like you could be asked to at a moment’s notice. I’ve only been to two or three of these types of weekends, being a social climber from nothing family rather than a landed gentry family that regularly weekends away in their second homes that have names instead of numbers.
At mine and my wife’s first country house weekend we stayed at my in-laws holiday home in Norfolk I stupidly wore a new hiking jacket I’d bought from Husky. Another guest noticed and walked up to me as I was examining the fascinating drainage systems of their vegetable patches to pat me reassuringly on the shoulder and say, “Don’t worry you can borrow something of Edward’s.” Mind. Blown.
Gallery openings/theatre premieres/etc. Appropriate for arts events is less about it being formal or informal and more about it signifying that you spend your nights at galleries and theatre premieres. In short: don’t wear your work clothes.
Unless you work in creative industries and actually do spend your evenings at gallery openings, there will be dozens of other guests who look mentally (and financially) well-rounded enough to buy your art without you needing to prove you could do it yourself. One thing I’ve noticed at gallery openings in London is that men like to wear one interesting thing; unusual glasses, old-school army jacket, creative footwear and dress neutrally elsewhere on the body. It’s their way of saying, “Hey, I have layers but this *specific* layer isn’t trying to make a statement about me.” Trying too hard is frowned upon in creative circles, sure.
But so is not trying hard enough. Royal Ascot. Horse racing.
Balls. In-depth, multilayered instructions on how to dress “appropriately” that would make military veterans from more restrictive regimes blush. Let’s unpack all of this.
Starting with Royal Ascot; the pinnacle of social flamingo-ing in the UK. If you’re wearing anything other than a morning suit at Royal Ascot, you’re doing it wrong. There are written rules about what is and isn’t acceptable in the royal enclosure.
Outside of that? Bright colours, hats and dickering about who’s wearing a tie get gradually more acceptable as the race day progresses. I attended The Derby once with some mates.
An American friend of mine decided that “dress appropriately” meant his smart clothes. Which is what we Americans call nice trousers and a collared shirt. We were all wearing suits and ties; he wore chinos and a polo shirt.
Now, with every gin and tonic he consumed after the race started he gradually looked more and more appropriate until by the end of the day he was the correct shade of saturation. Lesson learned. Cricket matches. Test matches at Lords and The Oval are smarter-casual.
Chinos or nice jeans, shirt or crisp polo shirt, jacket if it’s cool or you’re in the gods. County games are more casual but wearing a shirt you’d chuck on to watch your local footie team would look out-of-place. Football.
I saved the easiest one for last. Going to watch your local premier league football team is one of the few occasions where “dress appropriately” actually means dress comfortably. Wear your team’s kit if you want to, though newly purchased kit that smells like it’s been hanging in a sports shop cellar for the last twelve years is a giveaway that you’re a fair-weather fan.
Tone it down a few years and wear the older shirt. Real fans have shirts covered in updates from previous champions leagues and world cups. Supporting your team at the footy is about as casual as dressing appropriately gets in the UK.
You can take the shirt off after about 75 minutes if you’d like to smarten up for the game’s end, sure. But walking around Liverpool sporting Evertonian colours would be a grand mistake. Ah, the Pub.
Appropriate for pubs can vary wildly from place to place. A rural IPA-focused pub in the middle of nowhere expects different attire to some hipster micro-brewery off Brick Lane. The old-boys-local is going to want to see clean clothes with no obvious logos or flashy pieces.
The indie beer spot will take that as an invitation to dress like you walked straight out of Topman’s 2014PortraitOfANavySeal shoot. A delicate balance, if you get it wrong you’ll either be outright refused entry or welcomed with looks andBehaviour that ensure you never want to return. I once wore to a “proper pub” in Yorkshire what I thought was casual attire; slim fit jeans, desert boots, plain white t-shirt under a denim jacket.
BIGGEST.MISTAKE.EVER. If looks could kill I would have been dead within the first five minutes of arriving. Lesson learned.
Unless the pub has a theme. Golden boot in Wigan basically demands a suit and tie. Full that is. Pubs in London are smarter.
Especially in places tourists frequent. You won’t get away with ratty jeans and an old England shirt in most areas below Elephant and Castle. Dark wash jeans or chinos, smart-ish shirt, proper shoes (not trainers unless you work in advertising where ostentatiously expensive trainers are formal wear) and you’ll blend right in.
Dinner parties. Dress appropriately for dinner invites in London is effectively smart casual with leaning more on the smart side. Dark jeans or chinos, proper shirt or hell of a good t-shirt, nice shoes (trust me, you know what trainers are when you see them).
If someone goes full Alex Cooper from Mad Men on your dinner invite and wears a suit you can relax; they live in Islington and have never worn a suit to anyone’s house other than themselves. Outside of London people still make an effort for dinner guests but not as much as they would in the capital. It’s still smarter-than-you’d-usually-be-in-your-own-home.
Don’t outdress your host. If they reply to your invite text with “dress how you like, just come over” and you rock up in a suit while they’re in jeans and a shirt you will both be disappointed and uncomfortable. Literary events/book launches and such.
If you’re hobnobbing with real writers and publishers at say, a literary festival event or a book launch you’ll quickly notice that some of the gentlemen wear VERY DAN SLEATOR-esque clothing. Tweed with elbow patches isn’t dead… yet. As a general guest though, err on the side of smart-casual with maybe one token artsy item.
An indie bookstore tote bag. A book printed paperback turned jacket. A pair of semi-tortuous glasses.
Party conferences/fundraising dinners. Similar to the above but with political leanings applied to what “appropriate” means. Conservative leaning events will generally be smarter and more traditionally-dressed.
Tie required. Women will be wearing dresses or skirts with blouses. Labour leaning events have a bit more wriggle room but will still generally lean on the smarter side of things.
Dress to impress that you know what’s what.
Small parties and activist groups often wear their politics on their sleeves-literally. Green party functions are never complete without someone wearing sustainable clothing that they think looks like vintage.
Nationalist parties love tartan. All of this, of course, sacrifices comfort for the sake of looking like you know how to fit into your environment. You’d be surprised how many social situations in the UK come down to ‘does this person belong here?’ as the primary question hosts and guests ask themselves about each other.
So there we have it. Dressing appropriately across Britain; what it means, when to do it and what the fuck you’re wearing tomorrow. Just remember.
When in doubt, slightly overdressed is infinitely better than slightly under. Because that way if you’re too smart for the occasion at least you have a jacket and tie you can remove to fit in. Underdressed and there’s no way for you to pretend you wYou weren’t obviously throwing on some chinos because you didn’t look things up first.
