Finally Solving 'Smart Casual'

First, stop calling it that-think of it as 'casual chic' instead.

- Simon Crompton

BEING A FASHION writer and a style consultant, the biggest gripe I hear from men has always been some version of: sure, I understand what to wear to work, but how about dressing elegantly outside it? What splits the difference between my custom suits and silk ties and my old khakis and a T-shirt? Except now it’s worse, because even the codes around dressing for the office have collapsed. The frustration at not being able to nail ‘smart casual’ is palpable—and understandable. As the phrase suggests, it’s an in-between approach that requires dressing comfortably yet also stylishly (or is it the other way around?) and without looking like you’ve made much effort. No wonder guys throw up their hands and reach for what they already know.

But it doesn’t have to be so difficult. The good news is that, as with most things in menswear, it’s all happened before— there was an actual point in time during which smart casual as we now understand it first emerged. Just find images of well-dressed men from the 1930s, particularly the moneyed classes flocking to newly fashionable spots on the French Riviera, and you’ll see elegance personified without a suit in sight. The look, which I call casual chic, consists of relaxed, soft-collared shirts, beautifully cut trousers in flannel and linen, and slim, simple loafers or espadrilles. At the time, it was all part of a new category called sportswear, which was to say clothing adapted to an increased amount of leisure time and the myriad activities that came with it, from hiking to tennis. Many staples we know today, from the polo shirt to the plimsoll shoe, date their popularity to this period.