So there I was last month, standing in Edinburgh airport watching my suitcase disappear onto the Dublin carousel while I was supposed to be speaking at a sustainable fashion panel in exactly four hours. Perfect timing, universe. Thanks for that. I’m wearing coffee-stained jeans and a jumper that’s seen better days, and I need to look like I know what I’m talking about when discussing the future of ethical fashion. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
You know what saved me? Jenners. Yeah, the old department store that’s sadly gone now (pour one out for another retail casualty). Found a simple black dress and blazer combo that made me look like I’d actually planned my outfit instead of cobbling it together in a panic. Cost me £180, which hurt a bit given my usual thrifting approach, but honestly? Sometimes you need retail that just works.
That whole experience got me thinking about something I don’t talk about much in sustainable fashion circles – the weird, underrated brilliance of British department stores. I know, I know. They’re not exactly the cool kids of retail right now. Everyone’s talking about the death of department stores, the closure of Debenhams, the general doom and gloom of the high street. But here’s the thing – the ones that are left have quietly become something pretty interesting.
I mean, let’s be real about this. I spend most of my time advocating for secondhand shopping and ethical brands, researching supply chains and calling out greenwashing. But sometimes you need a bra that fits properly, or a decent pair of work trousers, or you’re having a suitcase emergency in Edinburgh. And you know what? Department stores are still really good at solving these problems.
Take John Lewis. God, I used to think it was just where middle-class people went to buy expensive kettles and feel good about themselves. But their fashion departments have had this quiet glow-up that nobody seems to talk about. Their Modern Rarity line? I picked up this silk shirt there last year for £85 that gets compliments every time I wear it. It’s the kind of piece that looks like it should cost twice as much – well-cut, lovely fabric, proper French seams. I’ve seen similar shirts at Joseph for £200 that aren’t nearly as nice.
Their AND/OR range surprised me too. I was in there looking for something basic (mistake number one – never go to John Lewis for “something basic” because you’ll leave with three somethings and they won’t be basic). Ended up trying on these wide-leg jeans that looked way more expensive than their £65 price tag suggested. Bought them, obviously. Now I get asked about them constantly. “Where are those from?” “Oh, just John Lewis.” Watch people’s faces change. Nobody expects good denim from there.
What I’ve started appreciating about John Lewis isn’t just their own-brand stuff, though. It’s how they curate other brands. Living in Seattle, I don’t have easy access to brands like Whistles or Jigsaw – I’d have to order online and deal with international shipping and returns. But when I’m back in the UK visiting family, John Lewis has edited selections from these brands that save me from decision paralysis. Someone else has done the work of picking the best pieces, which honestly? Sometimes I need that.
Fenwick is another one that flies under the radar. Their Newcastle store is genuinely excellent – like, fashion week level curation in some departments. I discovered Ganni there before it became the Instagram darling it is now. Their buyers seem to have this talent for finding brands right before they explode. Baum und Pferdgarten, Lily & Lionel, Essentiel Antwerp – labels with actual personality that you won’t see in every other store.
The Fenwick on Bond Street doesn’t get nearly enough credit. I was there last time I was in London and found this Danish brand I’d never heard of making the most beautiful minimalist pieces. Not cheap – around £200 for a sweater – but the quality was there, proper construction, interesting details. The kind of find that makes you feel like you’ve discovered something special.
House of Fraser is trickier to defend, honestly. They’ve had a rough time, and it shows in some departments. But their lingerie section? Still excellent. Proper size ranges, brands that actually understand how bodies work, staff who know about fitting. I bought this Fantasie bra there that’s been a game-changer – sometimes you forget how much difference properly fitting underwear makes until you find it.
Can we talk about department store beauty halls for a second? I know Space NK is cooler and Sephora has better Instagram presence, but department store beauty counters have something these sleeker places often don’t – staff who’ve been working with specific brands for years and actually know what they’re talking about. The woman at the Clarins counter in my local John Lewis has been there for probably fifteen years. She knows skincare. When she recommends something, I listen.
Liberty occupies this weird space that’s not quite a traditional department store but comes from that tradition. Their fashion floors are basically a masterclass in curation. Yes, it’s expensive, but their sale periods are legendary for good reason. I got this Rixo dress there for 60% off that I still wear constantly two years later. Sometimes investment pieces actually are investments, you know?
Harvey Nichols has done something interesting by skewing younger and more trend-conscious than some of their competitors. Their Leeds store in particular strikes this balance between designer aspirations and reality – you can find entry-level pieces from luxury brands alongside contemporary labels that won’t require selling a kidney. Their Fuse section is great for finding something distinctive without completely blowing your budget.
Here’s what I’ve realized about department store fashion – it really benefits from being seen in person. John Lewis‘s website is functional but doesn’t do justice to how their better pieces actually look and feel. The fabric quality, the way things hang, the little details that make something special – you miss all of that shopping online. These places reward actual visits, which maybe explains why they’ve struggled in our click-and-buy world.
The fitting room experience is honestly one of their biggest advantages. Being able to try multiple brands and styles without getting dressed and undressed between different shops? Having helpful staff bring you alternatives? I spent an hour in Selfridges recently with this amazing sales assistant who kept bringing better and better options as she figured out what I was actually looking for. That level of service is becoming rare, but it makes such a difference when you find it.
What department stores often get right that both fast fashion and luxury boutiques don’t is inclusive sizing. Zara stocks that trending blazer assuming no one has curves. Designer boutiques carry mostly size 8 and 10. But John Lewis stocks proper size ranges, often with different fits within the same style. House of Fraser carries brands like Phase Eight in their full size range, not just the smaller end. That matters more than people realize.
There’s also something to be said for the less pressured environment. You know that feeling in a fancy boutique where you feel like you have to buy something or the staff will judge you? Or the chaos of high street stores where you’re basically shopping in survival mode? Department stores let you actually think about purchases. Browse. Consider. Take your time.
Look, I’m not saying department stores are perfect. The inconsistency between branches can be maddening – that amazing section you found in the flagship might not exist in your local store. Their online and physical experiences often feel completely disconnected. Some departments are definitely stuck in the past, both in terms of what they stock and how they present it.
But as someone who spends a lot of time thinking about sustainable fashion and ethical consumption, I’ve come to appreciate what these places offer. Quality at reasonable prices. Staff with actual product knowledge. Multiple brands under one roof so you can comparison shop without traveling across town. They’re not generating Instagram buzz or launching viral TikTok trends, but there’s something reassuringly solid about their presence.
I’m not suggesting we abandon ethical fashion principles or stop supporting smaller brands. But sometimes you need something that just works, and department stores are still really good at providing that. Next time you need something reliable – whether it’s a wardrobe staple or an emergency Edinburgh outfit – consider skipping the endless online scrolling and rediscovering what these places actually offer. You might be as surprised as I’ve been.
Riley’s an environmental consultant in Seattle with strong opinions on greenwashing and fast fashion. She writes about sustainability without the guilt trip—realistic tips, honest brand talk, and a reminder that progress beats perfection.
