I spent three days in Cornwall wearing only linen shorts and t-shirts. It was day two, and the sun had just abandoned me forever to an eternity of rainclouds. Those clouds burst open directly above me inside a seaside gift shop where I was frantically buying an £80 waterproof with turning_patches.
Like every true English summer downpour, it was also Selling Ice Cream. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” said the woman at the checkout. She was probably in her sixties, but had the weary-eyed face of someone who’s seen enough numpties try to combat British weather to know she didn’t give a shit. I said something about yeah it was.
This is Britain. I live here.
Which brings me to my original point: Holidays in Britain are complicated, weather-wise. “Changeable” isn’t a forecast, it’s an ontological condition for the climate.
When Meteorologists say it’’re basically saying “Mate, I don’t know. Look outside.” Packing for your British staycation should therefore be approached with the precision of a military operation. I thought so too, for years.
But after nearly two decades of trying and approximately 217 unsuccessful British holidays, I think I’ve finally nailed it. Allow me to educate you. Layering, obviously.
We all know that. But it’s about engineering your outfit so you can change layers easily without sacrificing warmth or decency. My girlfriend Claire likes to refer to my layering technique as “the hedgehog approach”.
Get through the day layering up and down your outfit approximately seven times. It’s both a sight to behold and essential. Start with a quality t-shirt.
Thin cotton ones you can see your nipples through after two washes are useless. Go for something well-made. Uniqlo make some great Supima cotton ones that I’ve been buying for years.
They last ages, keep their shape and don’t look ridiculous if, like me, you’re over 30. Bonus points if you can find white, black and grey ones. Get two whites, one navy, one colourful.
I like burgundy. Fuzzy socksOptional but recommended. Wear this as your base layer but also as the canvas for everything else.
What I like to refer to as “the mid-layer”. Once the temperatures soar above “quite chilly” and dip below “pleasant whilst sitting still”, you’ll be wishing you had packed that lightweight knit. Trust me.
After MANY years of painstaking research (read: forgetting to pack it one weekend in Whitby and wearing a thick fisherman’s jumper that made me sweatbuckets), I can confirm that merino wool is the answer. Lightweight when warm, cozy when cool, and most importantly when stuffing your holiday cottage drawer full of barely worn clothes – it wrinkles like shit. Buy the best you can find.
John Smedley are top notch, but pricey at £175+. Marks & Spencers do some hilariously affordable ones for about £40. Jeans.
No. Shorts. No.
Chinos, weight mid-cotton. You’ll get caught out if you pack one or the other. After your base and mid-layers, these are your workhorses.
As French Touch weighed on my shoulder, I slowly dropped my shoulders and lookedPast. Gap are basically my go-to for holiday packing these days. Their relaxed straight fit in stone or navy are chic enough to not look ridiculous yet baggy enough to let you climb that isthmus without flashing everyone.
Now, hear me out. Gap also do these pretty badass hiking trousers that shorten to shorts at the calf with the squeeze of a button. I know, I was gagging too when I first got them.
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But don’t knock it til you’ve tried them. The updated versions from Roahn, Fjällräven et al. are cut really well these days and when you do inevitably get caught out by that “British Summer” shower midway through your clifftop stroll, you’ll be wishing you opted for these over that baggy old cotton number you got from the Works. Speaking of which… Footwear is where most people go wrong.
THREE pair. Walking shoe/trainers, water-proof trainers/general-day shoe, and finally something smarter for when you don’t feel like destroying your feet but still want to venture out in God-knows-what-topple-your-feet’ll-find weather. Avoid full hiking boots unless you’re doing actual hiking.
Keep it to lightweight trail shoes such as Danner’s excellent range or Clarks’ Outdoor Active shoes for 90% of your British “walks”. For day shoe, Nike make some great Shield range trainers that are actually pretty water-proof. Or googa ones from The North Face range.
Finally, I’ve found a nice pair of sneakers or desert boot from Grenson works well for evening/hopping between pubs. Unless you’re rocking up to some cool-housed Airbnb in London with the barbecue. Oh and your outer-layer is key.
The dodgy cagoule you impulse bought in said seaside gift shop might’ve saved you from hypothermia but ruined most of your holiday photos. Get something decent that packs down small. Both Rains and Norse Project make minimal jackets with enough substance that you don’t look like you just gave up.
They usually run small so size up to allow room for your mid-layer underneath. Skip the nuclear green unless you plan on getting lost. Another wildcard I always throw in is the overshirt.
Too light to be a jacket, too slim to be a shirt, it’s the perfect “mmm not sure if I should wear a jacket but fuck it’s chilly” kind of piece. Portuguese Flannel and Universal Works do great ones, but Arket’s overshirts are my go-to at about £90. I will always pack a scarf/bandana.
They come in so handy for tying around your wrists when that surprise sea-breeze hits/being an emergency picnic blanket when the UK ground is perpetually damp (coffee for one PLEASE)/carrying your soggy towels home from the beach/holding everything you cant fit in your pockets…and once as a makeshift sling for my nephew who decided climbing the cliffs was a great idea in South Yorkshire until his arm gave out on him. Speaking of which, a beanie has saved my ears on countless occasions where I foolishly packed only a cap. The UK scoffs at hat enthusiasts.
You think you’re safe, the sun’s shining, you pop your cap on… instant amplify as soon as that gust of coastal wind decides to turn your trip into a Lord Of The Rings tribute. Beanies take up no room and are miles better. Swimwear.
I know. AUK’T SAY NUUUUUUDDS but just chuck a pair of swim shorts in your bag that can double up as regular shorts too. Orlebar Brown do the gold standard here but their pricing is bananas.
At around £65 Finisterre’s Bantham shorts are great for beach/lake swimming AND pub gardens. Socks. Pack loads.
You’ll want to change into dry socks at some point and there’s nothing worse than having to put wet socks back on. Invest in some good ones. Darn Tough make amazing pairs that last forever and are merino wool, so they’re worth it year-round.
Don’t cheap out. You know that thing where you turn up somewhere nice and think “bugger, I wish I’d worn…”? Pack an go-to smart casual outfit you can throw on top of your entire look du jour just in case.
We all have that local that’s slightly nicer than the rest and turns out to live in your holiday cottage neighbour’s actual HOUSE. A navy knit polo and some chinos cover you for 99% of these situations and barely take up any space.
Lastly, and I cannot stress this enough, invest in a proper tote bag.
Preferably one of those tragically practical ones with an obscene number of pockets and a zip all the way across so it closes. Mine’s from Arket but Function Comes Before Fashion do one too I think. Buy it in beige so it goes with everything.
Use it forwater bottles, snacks, that book you definitely going to read top half of holiday/towels/rain cover/jacket and it’ll still have enough room for that shell you found that “looks pretty special and you have to take it home”. Ok so maybe I take the whole packing like aPortable Changing Room situation slightly too far. I get it.
You go to the’.’re sat smugly drinking your ice cream or cream tea watching everyone else run indoors as the heavens open for the fifth time that day. Yeah it sucks. But holidays in this country are a battle against the elements and your suitcase is your arsenal.
And when you’re sat outside the local getting pissed on a Sunday evening properly layered up against whatever bullshit shitty Summer we’ve decided to grace us with, sipping your well earned beer under a potentially ruined raincoat while everyone else is hanging their clothes around their knees trying not to freeze to death, you’ll crack a smile at the lot of them and know YOU HAVE WON THIS ROUND friends, family and finances allow, we all deserve to feel comfortable and at ease when we finally get away. And if you’re stuffing your feet into mold-infestedwellies and huddling under a see-through plastic poncho wondering why the fuck you live here anymore, that’s simply unacceptable.
