Okay, I need to come clean about something that’s honestly kind of embarrassing for someone who supposedly writes about budget fashion – I am completely obsessed with that whole Cotswolds aesthetic thing. You know what I’m talking about, right? That ridiculously perfect Instagram fantasy where everyone’s wandering around honey-colored villages in pristine linen, collecting eggs from photogenic chickens, discussing their barn conversions over artisanal cheese. It’s so manufactured and I know it’s manufactured but… I can’t help myself.
The reality of my summer is pretty different from all that pastoral perfection. I’m in a third-floor apartment in Portland where the air conditioning is basically a Target fan pointed at my face, my weekend adventures involve overcrowded beaches and maybe house-sitting for friends just so I can pretend I have outdoor space for like, three days. But somehow I’ve managed to convince people on Instagram (and sometimes myself) that I’m living some kind of English countryside dream through very strategic outfit choices and careful photo cropping.
What’s funny is that most of what we think of as “authentic” Cotswolds style is actually just rich Londoners cosplaying rural life on weekends. Real farmers aren’t wearing $400 linen dresses to feed livestock, you know? But the fantasy is so appealing – this idea that you can be both down-to-earth and luxurious, rustic but still Instagram-ready.
My whole obsession with this look started about three years ago when my friend Sarah (who writes about food and somehow actually knows people with money) invited me to this birthday weekend at her friend’s actual Cotswolds house. I know how that sounds, but whatever. I packed what I thought was perfect countryside-chic stuff, only to realize when I got there that there’s this fine line between looking appropriately rural and looking like you’re in a costume.
The people who were actually good at this – Sarah’s friends who genuinely did split time between London and various ridiculously picturesque villages – had figured out this thing where they looked dressed up and dressed down at the same time. Not trying too hard but still very intentional. I felt like such a try-hard in comparison with my carefully planned “countryside” outfits.
That weekend taught me that the secret isn’t going full theme park with the look. It’s about having a few really good anchor pieces instead of trying to cosplay as a lifestyle blogger. Good linen shirts rather than head-to-toe rural fantasy. Well-cut jeans plus one expensive statement thing instead of trying to channel some kind of English country garden catalog.
Since then I’ve gotten way better at capturing that Cotswolds vibe without actually needing to own a cottage covered in roses or know anything about sheep. Whether you’re planning to visit somewhere actually rural or just want to pretend your urban life has some pastoral charm, here’s what I’ve figured out about looking like you summer in the Cotswolds even when you definitely don’t.
First thing – linen is everything, but it has to be the right kind of linen. This was honestly a learning curve for me because cheap linen looks cheap and expensive linen can look too precious. You want that sweet spot I call “intentional rumple” – pieces that look lived-in and soft but still have some structure. I learned to pre-wash everything before wearing it, and I stick to heavier weights that don’t turn into a wrinkled mess after ten minutes.
Color-wise, you want to think about actual countryside colors – wheat fields, old stone, faded brick, lavender, soft greens. Stark white linen screams “I’m on vacation somewhere expensive” rather than “I casually live somewhere beautiful.” I go for oatmeal, cream, pale blue. Solid colors work better than prints most of the time, except for occasional florals that look like they might be vintage or inherited rather than bought new.
The one piece that instantly gives you countryside credibility is a really good oversized linen button-down. Sleeves rolled up, top few buttons undone, looking like you just threw it on to go pick flowers but somehow ended up looking effortlessly put-together. I’ve had good luck with brands like Everlane and COS for this – their men’s shirts often work better because they’re cut more generously and have that casual vibe that women’s versions sometimes lack.
Jeans are crucial too, but they have to be the right jeans. Nothing too trendy or too perfect. You want either straight-leg in a medium blue wash with just a little natural-looking fade, or wide-leg crops that suggest you might actually garden in them but could also wear to some fancy farm-to-table place. I found a pair at Madewell that I wear constantly – they look like they’ve had an interesting life without being actually distressed.
Even though it’s summer, you need some kind of sweater situation because let’s be honest, even August gets chilly sometimes. The key piece is an oversized neutral cashmere that you can throw over your shoulders or wrap around yourself while pretending to watch sunsets from gardens you don’t own. Navy, cream, or sage green. I saved up for one from Quince that I basically live in – it’s substantial enough to look expensive but not so bulky that it overwhelms everything.
Footwear is where this whole look can go wrong really fast. Hunter boots or those expensive country boots can make you look like you’re in costume unless you’re actually walking through mud. Instead I stick to leather sandals from brands that sound old and established, or well-worn white sneakers – Vans or Superga rather than anything too athletic. For cooler weather, suede ankle boots that look like they’ve seen some countryside walks without being completely beat up.
The accessories are where you can really sell this whole thing or completely blow it. Straw hats are like, the most obvious Cotswolds signifier, but they can’t look too perfect or too structured. You want something that looks like it’s been tossed around and maybe sat on a few times but somehow still holds its shape. I found mine at a farmers market for twenty dollars and then basically ignored it until it achieved the right level of casual wear.
Bags should look practical rather than decorative – canvas, woven straw, worn leather. Like they might actually contain garden tools or farmers market finds instead of just your phone and wallet. I use this canvas tote from a local brand that cost almost nothing but looks appropriately low-key.
Jewelry should be minimal and look meaningful rather than decorative. Single gold chains that could be family pieces, simple studs, maybe one ring with some kind of story. The whole vibe should be “I don’t really think about jewelry” while actually being very specific about it.
What to avoid is just as important as what to include. Don’t coordinate everything too perfectly, don’t wear obviously expensive pieces all together, don’t go for anything too trend-focused. The authentic version of this look involves pieces that seem like they’ve lived interesting lives before reaching your closet. No visible logos, no obviously new items worn all at once, nothing that’s trying too hard to look rustic.
The real secret is mixing expensive and cheap pieces in unexpected ways. That good linen shirt with boots from the garden center. The nice cashmere throw over a basic cotton t-shirt from Target. It’s the combination that makes it look unconscious rather than studied.
Last summer I wore my most convincing Cotswolds outfit – oversized linen shirt, straight jeans, leather sandals, market basket – to meet friends for lunch in downtown Portland. My friend Maya looked at me and said “You look like you should be picking herbs somewhere.” I took it as the highest compliment while knowing the closest I’d been to herbs that day was the dried basil in my kitchen cabinet.
Maybe that’s what I actually love about this aesthetic – it suggests a life that’s both simpler and more luxurious than reality, this fantasy where practical and beautiful exist in the same space. My wardrobe now contains several pieces that would work perfectly in some photogenic English garden, even though they’re mostly worn on my tiny balcony while I pretend my neighbor’s potted plants are my own thriving herb garden.
The truth is that really stylish people probably aren’t thinking about “Cotswolds style” at all – they’re just dressing for their surroundings and activities while staying true to what they actually like. But there’s nothing wrong with a little fashion escapism, especially when your reality involves more concrete than countryside. Sometimes pretending you live somewhere more beautiful than you do is exactly what you need to feel good about getting dressed.
Madison’s a Portland-based designer who treats thrift stores like treasure hunts. She writes about dressing well on a real salary—think smart buys, affordable finds, and brutal honesty about what’s worth it. Stylish, broke, and proud of it.
