I have always been fascinated by the way fashion serves as a bridge between, at times, seemingly opposing worlds. In my journey through style, I learned that there’s a peculiar magic in marrying the ruggedness of a well-worn boot with the sleek lines of a luxe silhouette. I had the exact opposite outfit to the one I put on for that brisk evening in East London when I proudly stepped out in a pair of Dr.
Martens but traded my pristine Reiss blazer for a T-shirt I was about to ruin with paint. That’s my weird, work-in-progress life—a blend of the stylish and the not-so-stylish, the thought-out outfits and the slapdash, with a not-so-cool music studio in between. My romance with urban elegance started while I was still finding my way in the fashion industry.
I had always admired the effortless cool of British beauty icons like Rosie Huntington-Whiteley and the stellar taste of influencers such as Susie Lau, whose boundless approach to style is always pushing new edges. But what I wanted wasn’t just to play my part in someone else’s fantasy of endless style possibilities. I wanted the essence of my working-class past to mingle with the really great, sophisticated style I had picked up over the years.
And I wanted my wardrobe to be the canvas upon which I painted the story of my life. I started to pair distressed denim with cashmere sweaters and leather jackets with trousers. Layering these textures is an art, one that I have mastered so well, I think, that my outfits pass for good storytelling.
And not just for good storytelling: for conversations with the past—about who wore what and how long ago and with what sort of attitude. I remember well one outfit in particular, that vintage leather jacket I paired with a modern shirt from Ted Baker a couple of years ago when I attended the opening of a new art space in Manchester, England. It had me navigating an art world I hadn’t seen since the late ’90s.
And I must say: I was engaging with an art world that hadn’t seen my outfit in a long time. What I find to be an excellent tactile experience is when I combine various textures. I am often attracted to the touch of rugged, untreated denim, with the smooth, almost ethereal quality of a silk blouse.
But I rarely wear either of those items without the pleasing juxtaposition of the other. One afternoon, while wandering around a quaint boutique in Camden, I discovered a pair of distressed jeans that appeared traditional yet had the ideal amount of vintage character. & Other Stories is a brand I associate with understated luxury, and on the day I wore the silk blouse I have from that line, I felt rebellious yet refined.
Recently, I’ve been trying to identify the spirit of urban elegance, and to me, each of these looks was just that, a kind of urban-elegant moment on the street. The journey to create this aesthetic was not always straightforward. I had my trials and errors, and I have many memorable evenings trying to mix things that just don’t go together.
One of those evenings was spent in Brighton, and I can still see it clearly in my mind. I had a heavily textured tweed jacket that I thought would look good with a dress I owned that was delicate and lace-trimmed. I wore both pieces on that evening out, and even now I shudder a little when I think of that outfit.
My unforgettable Brighton evening was simply a fashion faux pas. However, it taught me a valuable lesson about the balance and proportion necessary to achieve urban elegance. One of the most thrilling parts of this style evolution is uncovering the local British designers who are really pushing the envelope when it comes to fashion.
I remember meeting a young designer at a London pop-up fashion store. She blew my mind with a line of garments that combined beautifully tailored silhouettes with industrial fabrics that were anything but ordinary. Picture the textiles used for the sturdy body of a fashionable British Kensington waterproof rain jacket.
Now, imagine a wool overcoat that could stand out as anything but standard issue. This young designer was making textures work for her. She was also playing with form in a way that made me think the first time and the tenth time I looked at a piece.
It’s not only the attire; it’s about the attitude—an unimpeachably bold and exquisitely refined way of presenting oneself that is urban elegance. I have always felt that what you wear can say just as much about you as if you were to come forth with a spoken or written statement. I could easily rattle off a list of high-profile events that my style has allowed me to slink in and out of.
But I could just as easily regale you with tales of pots and pans, of the way that my short-lived stints in the kitchen have taught me to appreciate the quiet beauty of the Shoreditch café. Ours is a world that too often draws a style line in the sand, either casual or couture; I’m in favor of the unexpected fusion. My styling adventures have often taken me to explore the different, sometimes distant, corners of the UK, from the historic streets of Newcastle to the cosmopolitan buzz of London.
Each city offers its own story, its own inspiration. In Newcastle, the industrial grit of the urban landscape often pushes me to reach for more rugged, utilitarian pieces. Meanwhile, in London, the pace of the city, its ever-evolving nature, propels me to gravitate toward the more polished, sophisticated silhouettes that I could see on a catwalk or in a lookbook.
I’ve learned that urban elegance can’t be pinned down; it’s a universal language that stretches across different altitudes of urban life and speaks to the very notion of contrast—an idea that, when taken to its limits, can result in that ne plus ultra of fashion: life itself in unexpected combinations from moment to moment. I’ve also grown more and more aware of how this approach to style can operate as a form of self-care and empowerment. Curating outfits that not only look good but also feel true to who you are can ignite some serious thrills.
The act of dressing, of thoughtfully selecting each piece to create a coherent look, has become a ritual—a way to prepare myself for the days ahead. I stand before my wardrobe every morning and remind myself that what I do is not merely about aesthetics but about connection, identity, and yes, even the celebration of a certain kind of individuality. Every garment I’ve chosen to keep has a story—a history, really—that makes it worth wearing.
My exploration of urban elegance has deepened my understanding of the ethical dimensions of fashion. I am now more aware than ever of the importance of investing in long-lasting, high-quality pieces. When it comes to style, I’m not so much a devotee of “the look” as I am of the kind of holistic, responsible fashion philosophy that combines aesthetics with ethics.
For me, that means choosing brands like Burberry and Reiss, whose commitment to craftsmanship is rivaled only by their embrace of that most timeless of fashion components: the classic. It also means directing a good portion of my style capital toward the emerging local talents in and around London who are redefining the very notion of sustainable style while maintaining an edge as bold as the best looks I spot on the streets. Mixing rough textures with luxe silhouettes is definitely more than a trend.
It’s a personal evolution, embracing all aspects of your identity—the wild and the wise, the past and the present. And it’s not always pretty; I don’t kid myself. This is far from a conventional way to style.
Despite not always having the freedom (or the guts) to do this in the past, I’ve decided that every outfit is a testament to the journey I’ve undertaken, a celebration of the transformative power of style. When I consider the looks I’ve layered together in this post, contrasting all of the above with, say, a denim-on-denim outfit, I’m reminded that urban elegance is much more than just a look you can cop in the city. Category: City Chic
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