menswear is looking to the upper classes for inspiration, argues socialite Henry Conway
Posh is officially en vogue again. Fashion, not just in the UK, but globally, has gone into overdrive, producing menswear trends for the next two seasons that could have been grafted straight off the backs of young things on Kings Road or squires on their Yorkshire estates. By next summer, all chaps of fashion will have a pick of posh clobber that will be second to none.
Never mind the collective national love for the Boden catalogue, the wholesomeness of Dave Cameron, and organic food; the fabric of society that is changing the most by stealth is our clothing. Almost every high-street menswear retailer has a version of the rugby shirt/jeans/ loafers combo that has been the public school uniform of the past two decades, but designer clothing is taking it even further. In the autumn/winter collections, and next spring/summer, too, the diktat is that we should all be dressing as if going to an Edwardian tea party. Three-piece suits in grey worsted, cream or navy linen jackets with white piping, imperialist safari trends and, most notably, the Oxford bag trouser all stormed the catwalk.
The resurgence of circa 1912 toff dressing has a little to do with the new Brideshead Revisited film. The 80s TV adaptation set the tone for a host of the decade's yuppy looks, beginning our appetite for Merchant Ivory reveries starring floppy-haired boys and English rose girls. One look at Hugh Grant, and everyone wanted to live out a country house party fantasy. Chintz manufacturers had never had it so good. If the film has the same effect, the streets will be filled with chaps in white tie, tails, waistcoats and silk pyjamas.
We were already heading this way, because the appeal of toff dressing is an enduring fashion story. Historicist English styling made Ralph Lauren the multibillion-dollar business it is today, Lauren distilling what he saw as quintessential croquet-and-tea-on-the-lawn casual into his enduring east coast preppy. The autumn collection of his Purple line is the quintessence of "posh" dressing, with heavy, school-like knits under blazers and wide, shawl-collar dinner suits with matching waistcoats. What made him so successful was not just the style of the clothes, but selling the lifestyle as a package. Walking into one of his stores feels like stepping into the dressing room of a country house, and one leaves with an unusual urge to play polo and drive vintage cars. Needless to say, both are not only "posh" habits, but also expensive.
Indeed, most large US and British mid-market and designer brands have a diffusion label with the current buzzword "heritage" attached somewhere. This is key to the posh look: the feeling that this style has been boiling away for generations, manufactured or otherwise. Designers regularly use archive pieces as inspiration for womenswear, but menswear is seeing whole historical and societal carbon copies. It's as if Savile Row, Jermyn Street and all of St James' have been sifted for what to wear.
If you are after the Brideshead look, then these bastions of gentleman's attire are where to start. Begin at Huntsman for a bespoke suit. This is not for those with light wallets - it will cost about £2,500 - but you will end up with something so truly magical you'll never go back to off-the-peg. There are two reasons the upper classes have had suits made here for generations - first, the art of the cut is such that you need not worry about unruly lumps and bumps, such corporeal imperfections being hidden in a way no other piece of clothing can match (despite countryfolk's love of moth-holed jumpers, never underestimate the quiet vanity of the aristocracy). Second, the suit will last for ever, provided you look after it. People spend silly money on handmade clothes because they last. I wear my grandfather's old Crombie greatcoat that is so durable it was practically "built" in 1938. He wore it to the races (he was a bookkeeper), and even if the exterior was soaked, the silk lining and everything it protected stayed bone dry. It looks immaculate still, a mark of extraordinary craftsmanship. Think of the cost per wear, and it was a real bargain.
One of my favourite elements of Brideshead dressing is the return of the Oxford bag. I have loved wide trousers for a while, and am delighted I can now buy them rather than having to have them made. I now own two pairs of Paul & Joe high-waisted, true Oxford bags from this summer, and am considering buying the winter versions, too, so I can continue with my Katharine Hepburn fetish. Everyone from Roberto Cavalli to Giorgio Armani rolled out the new leg shape, though Cavalli seemed in two minds, alternating between skinny and wide. I prefer wide: they are flattering, and will make you feel as if you've stepped out of the golden age of Hollywood. Teamed with a Kilgour piped jacket and a Marc Jacobs 2005 Louis Vuitton LV teddy bear, and you're ready to float among the dreaming spires, imagining yourself as Sebastian Flyte. Lanvin's louche, unconstructed suits and Dolce & Gabbana's drawstring trousers provide a delightful variation, should you not wish to look too like an extra from the film.
Posh is the new alternative, too. As the Sloane uniform transforms into a classic preppy look, the creative slice of society has been looking back to the old school for sartorial credibility. Waistcoats are now seen as an integral part of a "rock" look, and though teamed with skinny jeans, I'm sure Sir Hardy Amies would have approved. Reading Amies' ABC Of Men's Fashion, he endorses much of the current "indie" trends as correct form. Desert boots and Chelsea boots are considered fine with a slim-cut trouser suit. Emulating the landed gentry seems de rigueur in pop - from the Arctic Monkeys accepting awards in plus-fours to Madonna taking to playing the grande dame on her country estate, and through to Alex James leaving behind sex, drugs and rock'n'roll to live the life of a gentleman farmer.
For all these cultural and fashion synergies, defining "posh" and posh style is not as black and white as it seems. There are different tribes within what might be generically termed "posh", from the Brideshead look to the folk revival style so loved by Sienna and her A-list/Sloane hybrid groupies. However, henna-ed, bohemian, angst-ridden toffs are still viewed with suspicion by Great Aunt Agathas up and down the land, so if you want to fit into a better sort of tribe, here is a crash course.
A general "chap" can be polished when he's on duty and slightly scruffy when not. He can be groomed (generally at Trumper, whose shaving lessons are something in which every gentleman should invest), but whatever posh is, he isn't over "done" - that would be a bit Posh Spice.
You could do no better than to look to that master of style, and one of Eton's best-loved old boys, James Bond. Ian Fleming's glamorous spy should be held up as someone to aspire to. Masculine yet immaculate, discreet yet slightly raffish, he is most definitely a gentleman - 007's simple dressing, with his plain suits, dark denim, handmade shoes and his ever sharp iconic black tie, could form the cornerstone of any chap's wardrobe. In Diamonds Are Forever, Fleming describes the contents of Bond's summer suitcase including "two pairs of the long silk pyjama coats he wore in place of two-piece pyjamas". Pyjama coats? I don't just want some, I need some.
Sloane dressing has gone about some serious reinvention, and has crossed the threshold into mainstream fashion. For Sloane women, the ubiquitous ballet pump replaced the 80s penny loafer as the shoe to wear. The general populous has got so in on the act that there has been an about-turn, and now fashion is all about the loafer (I've seen more in Bungalow 8 than in the whole of Kensington and Chelsea). For chaps, tassels are back with a vengeance, and if the Prada ones you had your eye on are far too expensive, then try the more affordable, old-school Shipton & Heneage, who have been shodding the well-heeled for years. Oh, and just so you know, Tod's have replaced the Gucci loafer.
For the more theatrical among you, take a leaf out of the book of the Bright Young Things, infamous 30s socialites who were a theatrical extension of Edwardian louche, building on the lavish entertaining of their parents with post-great war-troubled hedonism. With Cecil Beaton and Stephen Tennant as your pin-ups, a few organza scarves here, a Harlequin costume there and some dashing foppery mixed in, you could beat the Ryders and Flytes of this world into a cocked hat (which, of course, you must then wear at once).
I would advise entertaining in an Edwardian manner, and though the Queen Mother and her immaculate lunch parties are sadly gone, you could look to Prince Charles and his 21st-century interpretation as a reference point. The man has done for the dove-grey morning coat what Edward VII did for the Fair Isle jersey.
Though this trend for dressing like a toff may be expensive, the classic nature of the styling, and, more importantly, the quality, mean that these items are the ultimate investment pieces. The old adage of "Buy cheap, buy twice" does stand. No matter how much of a Primark devotee you are (shame on you), and if you can't afford Huntsman (which, let's face it, most of us can't), then be like your grandparents and buy the best quality you can afford. Posh is now such a fashion-forward choice that it will be hard to ignore.
One last piece of advice: if you want to be "posh", you'll have to forget that word - the truly posh never use it. Instead, try looking "smart", then maybe you'll stand a chance of getting in with the Mitfords.