I learned the hard way that you should never wear a Burberry check flat cap into a Glasgow dive bar. Burberry checked everything was everywhere back in 2006, particularly if you counted in football casuals tribes. But my fake Geordie accent didn’t stop me getting thoroughly side-eyed by a bunch of lads by the snooker table, one of whom shouted over that I looked “like a right southern wanker.” That cap didn’t leave my hotel room for the rest of my trip.
That was a valuable lesson in what I’ve come to learn about Britain’s aggressively regional street style. Despite how small the UK is (you can drive from one side to another in less than 24 hours, for fucks sake) there are so many deeply entrenched style tribes that you can usually guess someone’s city of origin within five seconds of meeting them. It’s more than just north vs south divide (although that very much exists); each city has its own distinct aesthetic that’s worn with such pride that should you attempt to wear the style as an outsider, you will instantly be spotted by the locals as a pleb.
I’ve been bopping around all three on weekend trips for years taking notes on how street style in Britain operates differently from city to city. Through rainstorms and flurries of that eight minutes of sun we get a year, I’ve catalogued how London’s street style has changed and stayed the same over the years, I did the same for my adopted hometown of Manchester and just last month I spent a week documenting Glasgow style.
Since 2010 I’ve noticed trends that stay reliably consistent in each city from year to year, and trends that come and go so quickly that the staple of last summer is already being laughed at this summer.
So here’s everything I learned from nearly 15 years of scrutinizing what Brits wear when they leave their houses. Firstly London, because of course London thinks everything starts and ends in London. London street style has always been unique in its fragmentation into so many tiny niches.
London basically has one look, and that look is intimidatingly specific scene kid nonsense. London has its Halcyon days yuppie lifestyle bloggers in grandad shirts and dad-cap progenitors who still think Carhartts count as “streetwear”; it has its Kensington-approved peacocks in ripped jeans and Rick Owens sounding jackets who spend more a month on their Gucci loafers than my entire yearly rent budget; it has its understated-startted Cutter & Buck-filled graduate students who secretly listen to Internet forum music on their commute home; hell it even has its sleek Rainier waistbag-wearing City boys with sockless ankles for days in February. The throughline that connects all these iterations of London style is intentioinality.
There is no casual in London, and anyone who claims they’re not putting thought into what they wear is still secretly plotting out their outfit aesthetic till dawn. Every Londoner I’ve ever seen is curated by committee, even the ones who dress like they threw on whatever they could reach. There’s always a reference being made, always a statement being calculatedly attempted.
That dude who “just wears jeans and a white t-shirt?” His jeans are from some tiny micro-brand with only 420 followers on Instagram and that “white t-shirt” was tailored by a ex-Versace genius and comes with a 5 figure price tag. London street style is exhausting and we love it that way. I roamed freely between Soho, Shoreditch and Dalston for eight days last October to observe.
London’s dominant silhouette right now is anything but – you can’t be baggy if you wanna blend in these days. We went full skinny on everything in the 20teens and now we’re going full baggy. Trousers that sit well above your shoes, oversized jackets that drown your frame, prints and layers that couldn’t possibly fit through the door together.
I hypothesize it’s a mixture of reactiveism to 2010s slim-fit uniformity, Japanese influence, and inevitable fallout from high fashion’s affair with streetwear. Regardless of what you’re wearing, if you walk around London long enough you’ll spot the same exact silhouette on Brick Lane hipsters and Bond Street businessmen. The style bubbles still exist but they’ve never been more welcoming of crossover than they are right now.
Trust Londoners to take a stereotype and subvert the shit out of it. Did you know that London is still very monochrome? Despite every other sixth-form fashion journalist writing about how London is now embracing the “new colorful London look!” London is goddamn greyscale.
People run down Beak Street wearing more black clothes than a Tarantino villain. When colour is splashed across London it’s used as a means of highlighting a single piece; loud beanie, absurd socks, statement bag against an otherwise muted outfit. There are no rules against wearing a raincoat full of colourblocking, but everything else tends to err on the side of not drawing attention.
Where London really shines is in the subtweeting battle that is accessoryGame. Whether it’s some bizarre Japanese tote bag you got on Vacation as a joke, or an Alvarez antique Rolex Sub that you secretly inherited from your dad, or some hand-carved wood birch bark keyring from that weird guy’s Etsy store that you’ve supported twice despite knowing literally nobody that lives near a birch tree. Londoners have always one-upped each other via obscure accessories and I watched two guys do some sort of exchange of acknowledgement over another man’s eye colourway of Nike SB Dunks outside Brewer Street Craft Beer Market.
Eyebrows barely raised. Both of those guys knew their shit. Manchester has never had London’s vibe dilemmas.
My hometown has never suffered from existential crises about our place in the style firmament. Manchester has always known it was the coolest, and acted accordingly. Flashback to the Haçienda scene, or when Tony Wilson and compagnion were at the helm and we inspired Britpop before anyone knew what the fuck Britpop was, Manchester always had perpetual confidence in our own style swagger.
A weekend of trawling the Northern Quarter, Ancoats, and Deansgate is enough to glean a few constants in Manchester street style. For starters there’s a certain hardness to it all. There’s very rarely anything too fragile-looking on a Manchester street be it literal or fashion-wise.
We brook no nonsense. Our clothing acts as armour, battered and lived-in because Manc weather will fuck your clothes up and our service industry salaries can’t always afford the highs and lows of dry cleaning. Our colour palette is much richer and darker than London’s – rust reds and burgundies, deep greens and navies over primaries and pastels.
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As mentioned earlier, we hate anything that looks “too done” in Manchester. I watched an entire family of puddles outside YES the other day who literally walk past each other every week and the dad was wearing what I will fight you over was a £500 Maharishi jacket that he had personally distressed and ink-bled with worn-down Maison Martin Margiela Dissent trousers. He paired it with £15 market jeans and a pair of Adidas Sambas that definitely needed to be cleaned.
There’s something tribal about how we dress in Manchester that’s lasted well into the age of the Internet. You’ll still see your indie kids in vintage Fred Perrys and straight-leg Levi’s; your hip-hop heads in big-boy nike sweats and limited-release trainer marriages; you’ll spot your £1000 Italian designer football casuals whose clothes all cost more than your monthly rent but will only wear them in very specific trend-compatible combos that shift each season. They might overlap in the same bars and clubs now but you can immediately tell who’s who based on what they’re wearing.
I’ve noticed recently though that there’s been a softening of sportswear and formalwear combinations. The classic Manchester look used to be pointlessly brash Stone Island tops with shiny baseball caps and trainers. Now Stone Island tops are still in abundance (we adopted Adidas as our uniform when they pretty much stopped making proper streetwear but everyone still loves Stone Island) but tailored trousers have become common, vintage tracktops worn with wool overcoats and classic Chesterfields.
We’ve always loved our sportswear here (we raised Adidas!) but the line between chic and casual has been irreversibly blurred. Vintage in Manchester just means something different to London. I know kids in London who spend their whole weekends scouring Camden and Victoria for the most expensive vintage they can find.
Which is cool! But in Manchester vintage means less chasing after the trends of past fashion months and focusing more on heritage and legitimacy. See original Berghaus jackets from the 80s, genuine Harringtons and carpenter jackets from Manchester’s heyday as the textiles industry capital of the UK, OG tracktops from brands with resonance in the north of England- these will always usurp whatever Japanese label your favourite blogger wore on snapshot last March.
Lastly Glasgow, who’s street style has been criminally underrated for as long as I’ve cared about street style. I first visited Glasgow back in 2010 and fell in love with the city for the same reason I fell in love with vintage; Glaswegians have always known how to wear amazing clothes in freezing cold weather without looking like they tried too hard. Is there something in the water?
Either way Glasgow runs on a frequency all of its own. There’s no London-style cool-pointstaking, there’s no tribal indicator Polo shirts. Glasgow street style is confident in a way that feels immune to the trends of what’s happening around them.
From being squeezed on Buchanan Street to casually brunching it in the East End you’ll see incredible outfits that don’t try to resemble a season playlist moodboard- they’re just amazing. Sewers somewhere are crying crying tears of joy over the Glaswegianigans putting their creations to good use. Layers are key in Glasgow.
And when I mean layers I mean fucking RED STRATOSPHERIC BABUSHKA levels of layers. God bless Scandinavia for letting us nick all their knitwear, but layering a quilted bomber over a delicate lace blouse over a crusty leather jacket over large cargo pants who’s cuffs touch your sneakers is STANDARD OUTFIT 2023. Hard vs soft, expensive vs cheap, menswear vs womenswear.
You’ll see these contrasts over and over again in Glaswegian street style in a way you just don’t elsewhere. And did I mention COLOR? Everyone and their mother is wearing beige and greys in London and MVP-worthy olive greens in Manchester but Glaswegians seem impervious to embracing neutral colour-palettes.
Bright blues, pinks, greens, reds- if it’s colourful you’ll see someone wearing it as soon as the temperature dips below 15 degrees. Not to be trendy, just worn because it looks f**king great. Speaking of trends..
Glaswegians have always had a complicated relationship with trends and fashion in general. We hate things being too expensive but swear by the authenticity of our vintage. We embrace sportswear without looking like we’ve walked out of an Adidas ad.
Hell, we’ll wear pleather dungarees but only if they’re from Filthy Gorilla. Vintage in Glasgow is equally as important as it is in Manchester but there’s more of a focus on the unknown here.
Digging through Mr Ben and The Glasgow Vintage Co. and coming out with an original 19forties Filson rain jacket somebody actually lived in will always win over whichever K-Rated designer everyone pretends to love on the reg.
You’ll spot shiny rare survivor everyday clothes being worn proudly and not as costumes or blog likes- they’re woven into outfits as unassumingly as any High Street piece would be. Glaswegians have always been ridiculously good at style for cold climates. Living in Scotland has taught us all a thing or two about how to look nice without dying of hypothermia.
Insulation is real up north and our expertise in that department shows when it comes to technical outerwear. London kids wear the Stan Smith-adorned Pradas and North Faces like they’re gonna wander round Hyde Park when everyone knows they’re just for shows. A quick wander through Glasgow and you’ll see weathered, loved-in Nike Tech Fleece jackets that people actually put snows on in it.
Not talking about you Rich Franklyn- everyone in Glasgow owns a good Down jacket. London street style is about being ‘in the know’. Manchester street style is about heritage and belonging to your tribe.
Glasgow street style is just being you, only on a goddamn high level. London looks great, Manchester makes you nod in appreciation, but put Glasgow on a runway and they will own it.
