You know that moment when someone says “let’s meet for drinks” and you have absolutely no idea if you’re headed to a gastropub with sticky floors or some wine bar where people wear actual jewelry? Yeah, that’s basically every social invitation in Britain summed up in one anxiety-inducing phrase. I spent most of my twenties either massively overdressed for casual drinks or looking like I’d wandered in from the street when “dinner” turned out to mean somewhere with cloth napkins.
The whole thing got infinitely more complicated when I moved to Portland and started earning a graphic designer’s salary, which meant I couldn’t just buy multiple outfits for every possible scenario. I had to get strategic about this stuff, especially since British friends visiting from back home would inevitably suggest meeting somewhere that could literally be anything from a Wetherspoons to that new place that charges fifteen pounds for small plates.
I figured this out the hard way, obviously. There was this mortifying incident about three years ago when my uni friend Emma was visiting and suggested we meet her London friends for “drinks and maybe a bite.” I showed up in jeans and a nice-ish top, thinking we’d be at some casual spot. Turns out “drinks and a bite” meant cocktails at this trendy place in the Pearl District followed by dinner at a restaurant where the server recited a five-minute speech about locally sourced ingredients. I spent the entire evening convinced everyone thought I was Emma’s friend who couldn’t afford proper clothes, which… honestly wasn’t entirely wrong, but still.
That’s when I became obsessed with cracking the code of the one-outfit-fits-all British social situation. Because here’s the thing – when someone says “let’s do drinks” in Britain, it could mean literally anything. Pub drinks. Wine bar drinks. “Drinks” that turn into dinner that turns into someone suggesting we go dancing. The invitation gives you zero actual information about the dress code, the venue, or how long you’ll be out.
After way too many outfit crises and several emergency trips to Target for last-minute wardrobe additions, I finally developed what I call my foolproof British evening uniform. It’s basically one outfit that works whether you end up at a pub quiz or some place where they serve tiny vegetables on enormous plates.
The foundation is always dark jeans – not black jeans, which can look too casual, and not light wash, which screams “American tourist.” I’m talking about those perfect dark indigo jeans that look almost like trousers if you squint. I found mine at a Levi’s outlet for like forty dollars (after stalking them for months waiting for a sale), and they’ve been the backbone of basically every evening out since. They’re dressy enough for most restaurants but won’t make you look overdressed if you end up somewhere with peanut shells on the floor.
The top is where it gets tricky, and I’ve made basically every mistake possible here. Anything too casual and you feel underdressed the moment someone mentions wine pairings. Too fancy and you’re that person drinking a pint in what’s clearly a cocktail dress. I’ve settled on this black silk-ish blouse from COS that I bought during their end-of-season sale. It cost more than I usually spend on tops, but I justified it by calculating the cost per wear, which is now down to something reasonable after two years of constant use.
Here’s the genius part though – it’s the layering that makes this whole thing work. I always bring a blazer, but not one of those structured ones that make you look like you’re about to give a PowerPoint presentation. Mine’s this slouchy black one from & Other Stories that I found on sale (detecting a pattern here?). It instantly makes jeans look intentional and dinner-appropriate, but I can take it off if we end up somewhere more casual.
The shoes were honestly the hardest part to figure out. Heels are a nightmare for British evenings because you never know if you’ll end up walking somewhere, standing on questionable pub floors, or climbing stairs to some basement bar. But trainers feel too casual for dinner. I finally found these black ankle boots with a small heel that work for everything – comfortable enough for walking, sleek enough for restaurants, and the kind of thing that just looks right with dark jeans.
Accessories are where you can really adjust the vibe without changing clothes. I keep this simple gold necklace and small earrings that add just enough polish for dinner places, but they don’t look out of place in a pub either. The bag situation took forever to solve though. Crossbody bags look too casual for nice restaurants, but clutches are impractical for pub crawls. I ended up with this small black leather bag with a long strap that I can wear crossbody or tuck the strap in and carry like a clutch. Cost me more than I wanted to spend, but again – cost per wear calculation made it reasonable.
The real test of this outfit came last month when some friends from London were visiting. The invitation was typically vague – “drinks and dinner, nothing fancy but somewhere nice.” Classic British social planning, giving you absolutely no useful information whatsoever. I wore my uniform: the jeans, the blouse, the blazer, the boots, the convertible bag.
We started at this wine bar that was definitely on the fancier side – exposed brick, servers who knew about tannins, small plates with microgreens. Then we moved to this gastropub for “proper food” where we ended up staying for hours, drinking pints and sharing fish and chips. Finally ended the night at someone’s local where we played pool until closing time. Three completely different venues with completely different vibes, and I felt appropriately dressed for all of them.
What I’ve learned is that the secret isn’t finding clothes that are perfect for any specific venue – it’s finding pieces that are good enough for everywhere. My outfit isn’t the most stylish thing I could wear to a fancy restaurant, and it’s not the most comfortable thing for a pub night, but it’s completely appropriate for both. No one looks at me thinking I’ve misjudged the situation, which honestly is the main goal when you’re dealing with vague British social invitations.
The other crucial element is having a backup plan in your head. I always know where the nearest shops are in case something goes horribly wrong (like the time someone’s “casual dinner” turned out to be their engagement party). I keep a small makeup bag with lipstick and concealer, because pub lighting is forgiving but restaurant lighting absolutely is not. And I’ve accepted that sometimes you just have to commit to your choice and own it, even if it turns out you’re slightly off the mark.
I’ve shared this formula with friends who’ve had their own British social anxiety moments, and it’s worked for basically everyone. The key is investing in a few really versatile pieces rather than trying to buy specific outfits for specific occasions. When you’re working with a limited budget, versatility is everything. Those jeans need to work for everything from casual dates to work drinks to family dinners.
The whole thing has made me weirdly confident about British social situations now. When someone sends one of those infuriatingly vague invitations, I don’t panic anymore. I just put on the uniform and know I’ll be fine whatever we end up doing. It’s freed up so much mental energy that I used to spend worrying about whether I’d be appropriately dressed.
Last weekend, a colleague suggested “grabbing a drink after work” which turned into dinner at this new place, then drinks at three different bars, then somehow karaoke at 1 AM. The same outfit worked for all of it. I felt comfortable and appropriately dressed through every venue change, which meant I could actually focus on enjoying myself instead of constantly second-guessing my clothing choices.
That’s the thing about British social culture – the vagueness is kind of the point. Nobody wants to be too specific about plans because that feels overly formal or presumptuous. But it creates this weird fashion challenge where you need to be prepared for anything while not looking like you’re trying too hard to be prepared for anything.
My foolproof evening outfit has basically solved this problem. It’s become my default for any invitation that includes words like “drinks,” “dinner,” “night out,” or “let’s see what happens.” The pieces work together, they work separately, they can be dressed up or down with minimal adjustments, and they’ve survived countless British social situations without making me feel out of place.
I mean, I still occasionally get it wrong – showed up to what I thought was a casual birthday thing and everyone else was in full party outfits. But mostly, this formula works. It’s saved me from outfit anxiety, wardrobe crises, and that specific British embarrassment of being obviously inappropriately dressed. Plus, knowing I have one reliable option for vague evening invitations means I can say yes to more things without having to stress about what to wear.
Anyway, that’s my solution to the great British “drinks or dinner” invitation mystery. Dark jeans, nice top, blazer, ankle boots, convertible bag. Works for everything from wine tastings to pub quizzes, and you’ll never be the most overdressed or underdressed person there. Which, when it comes to British social situations, is honestly all you can ask for.
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.
