“Back in December 2005, Monty Don, the British horticulturalist and human Peter Rabbit, wrote a delightful little essay for The Guardian on how to dress as a gardener.” (Derek Guy, ‘Why We Dig Gardening Style’ Mr Porter, Fashion)

Writing my almost overdue post about March bulbs flowering now felt like getting blood from a stone and, as a writer and gardener with deadlines that are all self-imposed, I was delighted to be diverted in an unexpected quarter. Monty Don as a human Peter Rabbit, you say. Tell me more.

The writer is a US – based master of sartorial elegance and expertise, Derek Guy. This is not a subject of great interest to me in the greater scheme of things but Derek Guy had come to my notice through Bluesky. Social media gets a bad rap these days when, at its best, it can open us up to new ways of looking at things. Having dabbled in and out of Guy’s posts, I have learned things I never knew about quality men’s tailoring and why the Spanish king – I think it is the one from Spain – always looks so beautifully attired while our PM, try as he might, is more like a sack of potatoes in a blue suit jacket without even a hint of Peter Rabbit’s charm.  Social media makes my world bigger, as I say.

Having perused these witty dissertations from both Guy and the Monty Don himself, I am forced to admit that we let the side down badly here. Mark manages the ‘rumpled corduroy trousers’ as long as I can continue to source this item of clothing. They are much scarcer than they were 50 years ago when I first had to shop for them, replaced, I guess, by the unpleasantly named ‘sweatpants’. But there our flirtation with classier garden-wear ends.

I have noticed that English gardeners often adopt a higher standard of dress code. I think that is due to tradition and to the recognition of gardening as a higher level skill and a profession. We have to look to earlier generations where there was some crossover to those who gardened in the far-flung colonies.

Mark’s dad, Felix, always wore a tweed Trilby hat outdoors and his winter gardening attire included a wool tweed jacket. He always wore shirts – olive green for the garden – and woolen trousers. Very brown and green he was, more leprechaun than Peter Rabbit.

Fortunately, women have escaped the scrutiny of both Guy and Don. There is a certain genre of English lady gardeners, photographed tending their gardens while clad in pastoral themed, artful ‘peasant style’ dresses. In my mind, I associate them with growing the dahlias that are so in vogue these days but that may just have been a photo I saw which made me wonder if these charmingly attired women ever did any digging or kneeling in their gardens.  

My rule of thumb is that if the clothing is old, comfortable, has pockets, is easily washed and dried and is suited to the weather, it can be considered gardening clothing. Upon occasion, I ask myself, “Would I be embarrassed if an unexpected visitor turned up and saw me wearing this?” If the answer is yes, it is usually a sign that it is time to consign that item to the dustbin of landfill.  That is as far as sartorial garden attire goes here. But I do feel a little pang that we have failed dismally to establish any reputation at all for our garden clothes.

I sign off without photo but can offer the alt text: ‘Abbie Jury is wearing a bottle green, stretch cotton, sleeveless dress with deep pockets from the defunct label of Ezibuy and battered woollen Allbird lace-up shoes in beige.’