MAKING THE ‘ TOWN TO COUNTRY’ LEAP
Considering a move to a rural idyll? You’ll need a wardrobe that doesn’t mark you out as a citified try-hard
Can you hear that distant rumble? It’s the stampede for the M25, as beleaguered Londoners make a beeline for the Cotswolds and beyond. Even before the move to tier-two restrictions, one in 10 city dwellers were planning to up sticks to the countryside in the wake of the pandemic. There’s been a rise in “cottage core”, a trend across social media fetishing the bucolic life, photos of ivy-strewn cottages and trundles in orchards neatly bypassing the more visceral aspects of country living. It’s telling that the barometer of how British men dress – David Beckham, face of millennial metrosexual men – has adopted a “down on the farm” wardrobe in his online updates from his country home, admittedly a grand Oxfordshire compound.
So, how do you assimilate yourself as you crash land into a chocolate box village clutching your almond milk frappuccino and Uber Eats account? Beckham is a case in point; from slickly suited and booted in London, he’s veered into comical country squire territory. Well curated for the Instagram illusion, but not what actual country folk wear.
Not that I would know, as a confirmed townie. I enlisted the help of a friend more accustomed to grouse shoots than fashion shoots for advice. “No Hunter wellies or Barbour jackets, you can spot a wannabe a mile off in them,” she advises of the Disneyfied version of country attire that rocks up to Soho Farmhouse asking for chai tea lattes and the Wi-fi connection.
So what should you wear if you’re making the move? It’s important not to look too first-day-at-school; shiny and proud of your new country uniform. First off, wellies are for practical purposes on the farm, not parading down your village high street – opt for robust boots instead. For walks, Le Chameau wellingtons are both beautifully handmade and discreet.
For outerwear, steer clear of anything heavily-branded; obviously, buying British-made is advisable. On a visit to an aunt’s house in the undulating Gloucestershire countryside, she vetoed my trench coat in favour of a battered, tattered, olive Mackintosh so as not to embarrass her down the local pub. Well-weathered is preferable.
Despite my passionate loathing of hunting and shooting, just as pheasant shoots decree no bright colours, I tend to agree that garish hues aren’t fitting. A lotto rob us technic alhil outerwear comes in solid slabs of primary colour, but steer instead towards the moss and mustard tones of our green and pleasant land.
And while it might be tempting to indulge in some tweedy dress-up, bear in mind the adage from Maggie Smith’s character in the classic film Gosford Park: “Always very plain for country”. Fussiness is generally frowned upon, so don a tweed blazer by all means for a drink in your new local, but do away with the pocket square, tie and general faff you might have applied in town. Locals will still refer to you as the newbie in 20 years’ time, but at least your wardrobe will help you assimilate somewhat.