Every British person has a moment when they realise they’ve been approaching winter all wrong. Mine was 7 AM on a Tuesday morning outside Birmingham’s New Street Station. I’m stood outside waiting for a train wearing what I am certain is a perfectly legitimate winter coat, watching my breath steam out in front of me when I notice this guy jogging past me wearing what looks like three shirts and nothing else.
He looks comfortable. Me? I’m freezing.
It’s not like I haven’t invested in the heavy winter coat. It’s just…heavy.
I bought it that Autumn mostly so I’d have something to wear while “proper winter” arrived.
But here we are in “proper winter” and all the heavy coat seems to be doing is freezing my innards solid. The lady in line at the coffee cart next to me sees my plight and rolls her eyes. “You’ve dressed for a Canadian winter, love, not a Birmingham one,” she tells me before sloshing awful coffee into a disposable cup. “Canadian winter?” Sounds about right. Embarrassing as hell too, considering I’d bought the coat that Fall after googling “best winter essentials.” I start doing some more research, trying to figure out what everyone else is wearing under their myriad jumpers that actually keeps them warm.
British winter is different than other kinds of winter, I discover. Windy? Yes.
Dry? No. Blended with all that lovely London moisture?
You betcha. Somehow you have to dress for that mid-February slog where it’s just chilly enough that you want to wear a sweater but not chilly enough that your sweater actually does you any good. So yeah, Chicago winter taught me nothing about how to dress in Britain.
Because it makes sense to bundle up like an onion in dry, frozen weather. Our weather is designed to slowly suck the life out of you. Turns out my coworker James, who rides his bike everywhere all year-round and never complains about the weather, was wearing basically just one thin sweater and thin jacket to work that day.
All these years, and here I was basically robbing my카지노 sweating under multiple layers of thick fabric and still freezing my ass off. Thinner layers, I learn, are the key. You want to avoid cotton where you can because cotton absorbs moisture and then clings to your body.
You want base layers that wick moisture away and breathe, preferably with some kind of insulation factor as well. James recommends merino wool, which I discover is a miracle textile created specifically to keep James and other Englishmen comfortable all year-round. I buy myself a merino wool base layer that weekend.
Way too expensive for what is essentially a glorified t-shirt, but holy crap does it work. Being able to walk to work without both sweating through my clothes and freezing my legs off was a revelation. And since merino wool base layers can be worn under pretty much any shirt or jacket without adding bulk, I was suddenly opening up all kinds of stylish new possibilities.
Merino wool, as it turns out, is also amazing because it retains heat even when it’s wet. Most of your merino base layers will have some water-resistant treated so you don’t soak through whenever it rains – which happens about ninety-seven percent of the time in the UK – but you also want that comforting sweater layer next to your skin even if your outer layers get wet. I now own three merino wool base layers and rotate through them depending on my mood.
They’ll probably be the foundation of any outfit advice I give from here on out because once you have the right base layer everything else kinda falls into place. Once I figured out how to keep myself warm enough to get to work, everything else kinda clicked. Like picking out the perfect middle layer.
Again, it pays to be British here. We’ve had centuries to perfect knitwear, after all. Don’t worry about tons of flashy logos or bright colours.
You want thick, high-quality wool that will help trap heat against that merino layer. I picked up this lambswool crew neck from a street market in Edinburgh for roughly the price of dinner and drinks. Nothing special about it.
It’s just well-made Scottish wool knit tightly enough that it blocks wind without stopping you from sweating. It’s been my go-to winter sweater ever since, and five years later it still looks better than the day I bought it. The wool has softened with age but the sweater hasn’t lost any of its shape.
Trust me, once you get your layers sorted, building awesome winter outfits is half the fun. That’s why I was so stoked when I discovered quilted gilets. Let me take a moment to sigh knowingly at myself over that remark.
But hear me out! Not only does a quilted vest under your jacket add significant warmth without bulk, it traps heat against your core where you need it without restricting movement in your arms. Mine is basically navy (blasphemy, I know menswear folks) but it’s slim fit so it doesn’t add extra padding under my jacket.
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Speaking of which, now is your chance to appreciate proper layering. When I first started doing this I piled on sweater after sweater until I couldn’t properly move my arms. The trick with layers is that you want those air pockets between each layer to help trap warmth.
If you squish everything together by wearing too many layers you lose that insulation. I ended up going full Wax Jacket for awhile because, well, it’s kind of the British Uniform™. Purchased a Barbour at full price because retail therapy is the best medicine and promptly realised it weighed a ton and looked absolutely everywhere but classy Englishman on me.
They’re great jackets if that’s what you’re going for but they’re not really my style. So I went a bit more classic wool overcoat that felt professional enough for work but had enough room for layering underneath. It’s heavy enough to block wind but allows for some breathability so I don’t get trapped moisture smells.
It’s also probably the single most expensive thing I own but when you consider that I wear it damn near every day from November through March it sort of balances itself out. This took me ages to sort out because, shame on me, but I was rocking the same pair of jeans all year round. Did you know that thin denim offers basically ZERO insulation from windy cold?
Like, your legs are basically wearing curtains that happen to look like pants. Heavier fabric weights can make all the difference. I opted for moleskin trousers because they look nearly identical to chinos but feel completely different.
They’re breathable enough for office wear but provide actual insulation where my regular cotton trousers would just draft cold air straight onto my legs. And for weekends I’ve got a pair of heavyweight selvedge denim that actually blocks wind instead of panting onto your legs like regular jeans do. It’s night and day once you pay attention to the fabric weights.
If you thought I was going to skip hats and gloves, you very much underestimated me. Pre-“research,” I would frequently leave the house without gloves only to discover midway to work that my fingers were frozen solid and I couldn’t operate my phone. Soft leather gloves with a wool interior and fingerprint-friendly fingertips were life changing.
Like, who am I that grew up without knowing this information? And hats. Ugh, hats.
I spent so long refusing to wear hats because of hat hair I robbed myself of years of enjoying winter. A simple wool beanie that you wear tilted back keeps your ears warm without adding to your dudebro quotient. Grab something dark so it doesn’t show wrinkles easily and you’re golden.
I’ve got a charcoal one that complements most of my coats and doesn’t make me look like I raided someone’s grandfather’s closet. Footwear is probably the most important element of any outfit, but it’s especially crucial when battling British weather. There are few things more powerful at souring your entire day than cold, wet feet.
It took me learning this the hard way as a wannabe-cool dude wearing regular leather shoes without waterproofing that my first winter in Manchester. By the time I got to work each day my feet would be drenched from walking around soggy streets, and nothing else could ruin my mood quite like miserable feet. Thankfully it doesn’t take long to realise that you need boots with rubber soles and some serious weather resistant craftsmanship.
I opted for these Tricker’s country boots after brand shopping for awhile. They were outrageously more expensive than I wanted to spend but I’ve been through three British winters and they still haven’t let a single speck of water through. Look nice enough to wear to work but heavy enough on the weather resistance to actually do their job.
Speaking of socks, did you know that cotton socks are basically the worst to wear with winter boots? Synthetically insulated socks with at least some wool content are your new best friends. Get ones that have some silicone on the sole to help grip the bottom of your boots too.
I order mine online in bulk since I go through so many throughout the winter. Grab a pair with a lifetime guarantee and you’ll never have to worry about them wearing out too soon. And since we’re on the indoors, let me just say that I was freezing my butt off indoors too before it occurred to me I could layer while inside.
I would crank up the heating in my flat until my electricity bill was through the roof all while wearing filthy old t-shirts that provide zero insulation.
Most of these same rules apply for indoors, too. Better materials will keep you warmer without blasting your thermostat.
I picked up what my girlfriend likes to call my “house cardigan” as sort of a cotton blend sweater with a bit more heft to it than your standard department store rubbish. Big enough to layer under things but not bulky enough that you look like a sack, it became something of a uniform that I even ended up packing for a holiday to Spain (if you’re wondering, it was AMAZING. Went in December and the apartment had no heating so it got plenty of use.) Pulling it back out this Winter was like coming home.
Look, layering correctly actually makes your winter outfits look better than before. You get contrast between different shades of wool, pops of colour you can’t really wear under a big winter coat, personal style that shines through once you start mixing and matching multiple layers instead of hiding under one big bulky sweater. Trust me, once you start layering properly you’ll never want to go back.
If I had to sum up everything I learned about how to dress warm in the UK, it would come down to one thing; the British invented our version of winter. You can’t very well approach British winter with Canadian solutions because Canada’s never got climate figured out quite like we have. It took me nearly half a decade of freezing my soul off every winter but once I stopped trying to dress for Canadian winter and started dressing for British winter, I finally started to enjoy the colder months.
