The Return of the Trench

There is a coat that has been hanging in the back of every wardrobes for the past three years, waiting. The trench. It got crowded out by sherpa fleece and enormous puffers, by colour and volume and noise. But this spring, it has returned — and it looks better than it has in a decade.

What has changed is not the coat itself. The double-breasted front, the epaulettes, the storm flap, the D-ring belt — all of it remains exactly as Burberry fixed it in 1914. What has changed is how we are choosing to wear it. Less as a rain defence, more as a statement about restraint.

The case for the original

I spent three weeks trying to find an argument for the black trench, the leather trench, the oversized-and-cropped-simultaneously trench. I could not. The original — sand, camel, or the very specific greige that only certain mills seem to produce — remains the one to own. It sits above trends. It asks nothing of what you wear beneath it. It will outlive every other coat you own.

The key, I have decided, is proportion. The trench should hit mid-thigh, no shorter, no longer. The belt should be tied — not buckled, tied — at the natural waist. The collar should be up. Not performatively, not ironically. Up because it looks correct that way.

The trench coat does not flatter you. It does something better: it gives you authority.

What to wear beneath it

The answer, almost always, is less than you think. A white shirt. Dark straight-leg trousers. Flat loafers or a heel, depending entirely on where you are going and what your mood demands. The trench handles the rest. Its genius is that it functions as a finished look even when everything beneath it is working clothes.

I have been wearing mine over a cashmere crewneck and cropped tailored trousers. In the morning, it is professional. At eight in the evening with the collar turned up and a small bag, it is something else entirely. That versatility — not just across occasions but across tones — is what no other coat achieves.

On investment

A trench coat is one of the very few pieces in fashion that I would argue justifies significant spending. Not because expensive things are better by definition, but because a trench is worn every day for twenty years, and a poor-quality one shows immediately in the way it hangs, the way the belt droops, the way the cotton softens wrong after washing.

Aquascutum and Burberry are the benchmarks. Mackintosh produces an exceptional version. If you are working with a smaller budget, look at A.P.C. and Margaret Howell — both understand the brief. What you are paying for, in every case, is the drape. A trench that does not move correctly when you walk is not a trench. It is a disappointment with epaulettes.

Buy the best one you can afford. Wear it on the first cold morning that is not quite cold enough for your winter coat. That is what it is for. That, and every subsequent morning of your life.

The history behind the coat

The trench coat was not designed as fashion. It was designed as waterproof military outerwear — the gabardine fabric patented by Thomas Burberry in 1879, the double-breasted cut that allowed extra closure against wind and rain, the epaulettes that held rank insignia, the D-ring belt that carried equipment, the gun flap that rested against the shoulder to absorb recoil. Every detail of the trench coat was functional before it was aesthetic, which is precisely why it has survived aesthetically for over a century. Form that follows function does not become obsolete when the function changes. It becomes available for reinterpretation.

After the First World War the trench crossed from military to civilian wear with extraordinary speed, partly because returning officers brought their coats with them and partly because the coat's silhouette solved the civilian dressing problem of the 1920s as elegantly as it had solved the military one. A woman in a trench coat on the streets of 1920s London was wearing something that communicated authority, practicality, and a specifically modern relationship to her body and her movement through the world. The coat has been communicating the same things since.

The 1960s brought it to cinema and it never entirely left: Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn made it the coat of moral complexity and romantic longing respectively, and those associations have never quite washed out. This is part of what you are wearing when you wear a trench. Not just a well-cut waterproof. A garment with a narrative — one that is yours to inhabit or ignore, but which is there regardless.

Caring for the investment

A quality trench coat needs specific care to maintain its structure and waterproofing over years of wear. The gabardine or cotton twill should be regularly reproofed — the DWR (durable water-repellent) finish that makes water bead off the surface degrades with washing and wear, and without it the fabric absorbs moisture and loses the quality that makes the coat functional as outerwear. Reproof after every two or three washes using a spray-on reproofing product, or follow the manufacturer's guidance. This takes four minutes and extends the coat's performance by years.

The lining — typically acetate or polyester — is the part of the coat most vulnerable to wear because it bears the friction of wearing and is rarely considered in care routines. Turn the coat inside out before washing, wash on a gentle cycle in cool water, and reshape while damp rather than waiting for it to dry in whatever position it landed. The belt tends to stretch unevenly if machine-washed aggressively; washing it separately or removing it during washing preserves the leather or cotton from the worst of the process.

Store the trench coat properly at the end of each winter: clean it thoroughly before storage, hang it on a wide wooden hanger that supports the shoulder seam, store in a breathable cotton cover away from direct light. A coat kept in a plastic dry-cleaning bag in a warm wardrobe for six months will have a different conversation with you next October than one stored with care. Small differences in maintenance become significant differences in longevity over a decade of wearing. The trench you own in twenty years will reflect how you cared for it in twenty turns of every season between now and then.

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