Comment I would like to be emailed about offers, event and updates from Evening Standard. Read our privacy notice . The heat is promising to make a brief return this week.
I’m not normally one for edicts but high summer is its own beast of a style conundrum and it is a fashion editor’s blessing and curse to be the one to hold you all to account for your outfit decisions. Those are the rules — or in the dictatorial spirit of Carmy from The Bear , non-negotiables — and I am here to reiterate them for you. You’re welcome.
In town, one should be dressed properly. Outside of a lido there is no excuse for acres of flesh. Specifically I am thinking of the dismal British trope of a bare-chested man sauntering along the high street.
Men, to be clear: no one wants to see your sweaty, shirtless body. Especially on public transport. Nipples for all genders should be kept firmly under wraps.
If you are wearing a shirt (appreciate you) then keep an eye on chest unveiling. Unless yours is a perfectly buffed, well-kempt example, unbutton with caution. Too much heavage/cleavage or unleashed chest hair is unwarranted.
Excessive flesh in an office is uncouth and uncomfortable for all, especially, I imagine, the chick riffling around in micro shorts on an itchy swivel chair. A general point of a cross-seasonal order is that if you carry a rucksack on any variety of public transport, it is your duty as a Londoner to remove this from your shoulders on board. At your feet, away from other.