God, I still cringe thinking about my first proper afternoon tea experience. Picture this: me at 25, dressed like I was auditioning for a Jane Austen adaptation, complete with – and I’m genuinely embarrassed to admit this – a tiny fascinator perched on my head like some confused bird. I thought I was being appropriately fancy. My grandmother, the guest of honor for her 85th birthday, showed up in perfectly tailored black pants and a cream cashmere sweater, looking effortlessly chic while I resembled an extra from a period drama who’d wandered onto the wrong set.
The whole thing happened because my mom suggested we take Grandma somewhere “really special” for her birthday, and somehow that translated in my brain to “dress like it’s 1875.” I mean, afternoon tea feels like it should come with specific costume requirements, right? All those tiered stands and delicate china cups – it seems like you should be wearing something equally elaborate.
What I’ve learned after approximately forty-something afternoon teas (occupational hazard of working with brands that love hosting these things, plus having relatives who consider it the height of sophistication) is that the sweet spot exists somewhere between looking like you rolled out of bed and looking like you’re headed to a royal wedding.
The venue makes a huge difference in what works. When I’m going to one of those old-school luxury hotels – you know, the ones with marble everything and waiters who’ve been there since the Carter administration – I aim for what I call “polished but not precious.” Think good trousers (I have these amazing wide-leg wool ones from Everlane that I basically live in during fall), paired with a silk blouse or a really nice knit top. It’s put-together without being stuffy.
I learned this the hard way after that fascinator incident. The next tea I went to, I overcorrected and wore jeans and a t-shirt, thinking I was being refreshingly casual. Wrong again. The looks I got… let’s just say they weren’t admiring ones. There’s definitely a baseline level of effort expected, even if the dress code says “smart casual” (which, by the way, is the most unhelpful dress code ever invented – what does that even mean?).
These days, my go-to formula is separates that could work in a professional setting but feel a bit more special. I have this navy shirt dress from Reformation that’s become my unofficial afternoon tea uniform – it’s comfortable enough that I can eat approximately seventeen scones without feeling restricted, but structured enough that I look like I made an effort. The fabric is substantial enough that it doesn’t wrinkle when I sit for two hours, which is crucial because nothing ruins the elegant tea experience quite like standing up looking like you’ve been sleeping in your car.
Footwear is where a lot of people mess up. You’re going to be walking into these places, which often have intimidating lobbies with marble floors (why is everything marble?), so you need shoes that won’t have you wobbling or squeaking. I’ve settled on these block-heeled ankle boots from Nisolo that I can actually walk in, plus they work with basically everything. In summer, I switch to leather flats – comfortable but not too casual.
The more contemporary tea spots – like the ones in department stores or those themed experiences that are all over Instagram – let you relax the rules considerably. I went to this fashion-themed tea last month where half the people were in designer sneakers and vintage band tees, and it totally worked. The setting was more loft-like than ballroom-like, so the vibe was completely different.
But here’s what I wish someone had told me before that first disastrous tea: it’s not about the specific clothes you wear, it’s about looking polished. Like, iron your shirt. Wear shoes that aren’t scuffed to death. Maybe put on some jewelry that isn’t just your everyday studs. These small details signal that you recognize this is a bit of an occasion without going full costume party.
I made so many mistakes figuring this out. There was the time I wore a white shirt to a tea that involved particularly jammy preserves (disaster). The time I chose a dress with sleeves that kept dragging through the clotted cream (also disaster). The time I wore my favorite jeans that look great standing up but create an unfortunate muffin-top situation when sitting for extended periods (uncomfortable disaster).
Now I think about practicality as much as aesthetics. You’re going to be sitting at a small table, probably for at least an hour and a half, handling delicate cups and potentially messy food. Anything with a super fitted waist is going to be miserable by the third course. Anything with trailing sleeves is a liability. Anything too low-cut feels weird when you’re leaning over tiny sandwiches making polite conversation.
The seasonal aspect matters too. Winter teas call for different strategies than summer ones. In cold weather, I love wearing a knit dress with opaque tights and knee-high boots – warm enough for the season but still appropriate for the setting. My favorite is this forest green one from & Other Stories that’s substantial enough to feel special but stretchy enough to accommodate multiple courses of tiny cakes.
Summer tea dressing is actually trickier because you want to stay cool but can’t go too casual. I’ve found that a midi skirt with a nice t-shirt or lightweight sweater hits the right note. Linen works if it’s the structured kind that doesn’t look wrinkled immediately upon wearing. I have this striped midi from Madewell that’s become my summer tea go-to – it’s comfortable, looks intentional, and the stripes somehow make it feel more dressed up than a solid color would.
The accessory question always trips people up. My general rule is one interesting piece – maybe statement earrings or a bold necklace – but nothing so elaborate that it competes with the whole experience. The goal is to look like yourself, just slightly elevated. I learned this watching my grandmother at that first tea. Her single strand of pearls and simple gold watch were perfect because they enhanced her natural style rather than overwhelming it.
Color-wise, I tend to stick with what I know works on me rather than trying to match some imagined tea aesthetic. That said, I do avoid anything too loud or distracting. The focus should be on the food and conversation, not your outfit. Although I will say, there’s something about wearing navy or forest green to afternoon tea that just feels right – classic without being boring.
What about the men who get dragged along to these things? My partner has developed his own tea uniform over the years: dark chinos, button-down shirt, and clean leather shoes. He brings a blazer but usually doesn’t wear it unless the place feels particularly formal. It works everywhere from hotel lobbies to quirky themed spots.
One thing I’ve noticed is that the most successful tea outfits are the ones that make you feel like a slightly more polished version of yourself. Not like you’re playing a character or wearing a costume, just like you took your regular style and turned up the volume a little bit. That’s what my grandmother understood instinctively – her afternoon tea look wasn’t dramatically different from her everyday style, just a bit more refined.
I keep a few pieces in my closet specifically for these occasions now. Nothing so formal that I can’t wear it elsewhere, but special enough that I feel appropriately dressed when the situation calls for it. It’s made the whole thing so much less stressful. No more panicking about what to wear, no more feeling overdressed or underdressed.
The biggest lesson from all my afternoon tea adventures? Leave the costume pieces at home. No fascinators unless you’re actually going to the races. No full vintage looks unless that’s genuinely your everyday style. Just aim for that sweet spot between effort and ease, and focus your energy on the important stuff – like whether the jam or cream goes on the scone first. And yes, I have strong opinions about that too.
Claire started Claire Wears to bridge the gap between fashion media and real life. Based in Chicago, she writes with honesty, humor, and a firm “no” to $300 “affordable” shoes. Expect practical advice, strong opinions, and the occasional rant about ridiculous trends.
