The first time I went for a proper fancy afternoon tea—the kind with three-tiered stands, bone china cups, and tiny sandwiches that somehow cost more than an actual meal—I made the rookie error of dressing like I was auditioning for a period drama. I wore a floral dress with puff sleeves, low heels that clicked satisfyingly on marble floors, and even (I’m genuinely embarrassed to admit this) a small fascinator. Yes, an actual fascinator, like I was off to the bloody races instead of just eating some scones at Claridge’s.
In my defense, I was 23, it was for my grandmother’s 80th birthday, and I’d never been anywhere fancier than Pizza Express. My thinking went something like: posh occasion = dress like it’s 1952. My grandmother, incidentally, turned up in sleek cigarette trousers and a cashmere sweater, looking infinitely more modern and appropriate than I did. The waiters definitely thought I was simple.
It’s an easy mistake to make. Afternoon tea sits in that awkward space between casual and formal—a particularly British tradition that feels like it should have a dress code, but actually doesn’t. This creates the perfect conditions for either drastically underdressing (the American tourists in shorts and trainers) or overdressing (me, looking like I’d raided the Downton Abbey costume department). Neither is ideal.
Since that fascinator fiasco, I’ve been to approximately 37 afternoon teas (occupational hazard of being a fashion editor with a sweet tooth and a lot of visiting relatives to entertain), and I’ve developed something of a formula for what works. The goal is to look like you’ve made an effort without looking like you’re cosplaying as the Duchess of Bedford (who, fun fact, is credited with inventing afternoon tea in the 1840s).
First, let’s address the venue question, because where you’re taking tea definitely impacts what you should wear. There’s a world of difference between afternoon tea at a traditional hotel like The Ritz or The Savoy (where some places actually do have dress codes—check before you go) versus a more contemporary setting like a department store cafe or one of the quirkier themed teas that have sprung up in recent years.
For the traditional, old-school luxury hotels, you want to err on the side of smart but not stuffy. These establishments often request “elegant smart casual,” which is one of those delightfully vague dress codes that sends people into a tailspin. In practice, it means no jeans, no trainers, and nothing too revealing or casual. But it absolutely doesn’t mean you need to dress like you’re attending a wedding.
My go-to outfit for fancy hotel tea is what I think of as “polished separates”—wide-leg trousers in a good fabric (wool in winter, linen or cotton in summer) paired with a silk blouse or fine knit. This hits that sweet spot between making an effort and still looking contemporary. Whistles and Reiss excel at exactly this kind of understated elegance—their cigarette trousers or wide-leg crops with a simple silk top create an outfit that works for almost any upscale tea venue.
If you’re more of a dress person, aim for something with a clean line rather than too many frills or florals (unless that’s genuinely your aesthetic). A simple shift or wrap dress in a block color looks far more modern than anything too chintzy or busy. COS, & Other Stories, and Jigsaw all do excellent dresses that have enough structure to feel special but don’t veer into fussy territory.
Footwear-wise, a block heel or smart flat works perfectly. You’ll be sitting down for most of the experience, but there’s always that slightly awkward moment when you first arrive, and you don’t want to be tottering on stilettos or squelching in weather-inappropriate footwear. Russell & Bromley’s mid-height courts or Penelope Chilvers’ elegant flats are ideal—comfortable enough for the inevitable post-tea waddle when you’re stuffed with scones, but still polished.
For more contemporary afternoon tea settings—department stores, modern hotels, those themed ones where everything is shaped like a handbag or whatever—you can relax the rules considerably. Smart jeans (dark wash, no rips) with a nice top is completely acceptable in most places. Personally, I like to wear something with a bit of stretch to these teas, having learned the hard way that fitted waistbands and unlimited cake refills are natural enemies.
A word on accessories: this is where you can have some fun without going full Royal Ascot. A statement necklace or interesting earrings elevate even the simplest outfit and show you’ve made an effort. Just stop short of anything that might take someone’s eye out when you reach across the table for the last macaron (yes, I have witnessed this happen—it was both horrifying and impressive).
Now, what about those themed afternoon teas that have become increasingly popular? The ones based on films, books, or concepts that often encourage a bit more whimsy in your outfit? Here’s where you can incorporate a subtle nod to the theme without going full costume. For a fashion-themed tea, perhaps wear your most interesting architectural earrings; for a garden-themed experience, a botanical print might be appropriate. The key word is “nod”—not “full interpretive dance.”
Let me share some specific examples of afternoon tea outfits that have worked well for me across different seasons and venues:
For winter tea at traditional venues, I love a slim wool trouser in navy or forest green with a cream silk blouse and ankle boots. Add a good blazer (removed and hung up once you’re seated) and some gold jewelry, and you’re sorted. In the depths of winter, a knitted dress with opaque tights and knee-high boots offers warmth without sacrificing style. Jigsaw and Hobbs do excellent versions that aren’t too bulky.
For summer tea situations, a midi skirt with a simple t-shirt or light knit looks effortless but considered. Arket and COS do great directional but wearable options, while Boden’s offerings tend to be more colorful if that’s your preference. A jumpsuit can also work brilliantly for tea—it’s comfortable for sitting but still pulls together an outfit with minimal effort. Just make sure it’s not so complicated that bathroom visits become a high-risk activity.
What about the younger tea-goers? I recently took my niece for her first “proper” afternoon tea for her 13th birthday, and the outfit question nearly derailed the whole operation. She veered wildly between wanting to wear her party dress (very sparkly, very short) and her everyday uniform of leggings and an oversized hoodie. We compromised on black jeans, a pretty blouse she’d been saving for “a special occasion,” and her clean white trainers. She looked appropriate but still like herself, which is really the goal for any age.
For the men in your life who might be accompanying you to tea (and who inevitably ask “Do I need to wear a suit?”), the same principles apply—smart casual that errs on the smart side for traditional venues. Chinos or wool trousers with a button-down shirt or polo is perfect. A jacket is good to have but can be removed; a tie is almost certainly overkill unless the venue specifically requests it. My partner has a standard “tea uniform” of navy chinos, a light blue Oxford shirt, and desert boots that works everywhere from The Wolseley to a National Trust cafe.
What I’ve gradually realized about afternoon tea dressing is that it’s less about specific garments and more about the overall level of polish. Iron things that need ironing. Make sure your shoes aren’t scuffed. Consider a lipstick if that’s your thing. The small details signal that you recognize this is a bit of a treat, not just a casual coffee.
The best afternoon tea outfits also consider practicality alongside aesthetics. You’ll be sitting at a table for at least an hour, possibly longer, so anything that’s uncomfortable when seated is a no-go. You’ll be handling hot drinks and potentially messy food, so sleeves that dangle in the clotted cream are problematic (learned this one the hard way). And you’ll almost certainly leave fuller than when you arrived, so anything with an unforgiving waistband is setting yourself up for misery.
There are also a few specific things I’d recommend avoiding:
1. Anything too revealing. Afternoon tea has a certain genteel quality that makes very low-cut tops or super short skirts feel a bit jarring.
2. Very casual items—hoodies, flip-flops, sports clothes, anything with obvious logos or slogans.
3. Anything that restricts movement or comfort. Tea is meant to be enjoyed, not endured while you discreetly try to undo the top button of your trousers.
4. Overly formal attire. No floor-length gowns, cocktail dresses, or black tie, please. You’ll look like you got the wrong invitation.
5. Strong perfume. This is more of a general etiquette point, but worth mentioning—when you’re in close proximity to food, especially delicate flavors like those found in afternoon tea, heavy scents can interfere with the experience.
The most successful afternoon tea outfits I’ve worn have all shared a common quality—they made me feel like a slightly more polished version of myself, rather than someone playing dress-up. My grandmother understood this instinctively. Her afternoon tea outfit that day—the cigarette trousers, the cashmere, the single strand of pearls—wasn’t a costume; it was simply her regular style with the volume turned up slightly.
I now have a couple of dedicated “tea dresses” that hit this sweet spot. They’re not so fancy that I can’t wear them elsewhere, but they have details that feel special—interesting sleeves, beautiful buttons, exceptional fabric. One is a navy shirt dress from Toast with covered buttons and a slightly fuller skirt than their usual offerings; the other is a green wrap dress from & Other Stories with a subtle abstract print. Both make me feel appropriately dressed without feeling like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes.
So if you’ve got an afternoon tea in your diary and are staring into your wardrobe with mounting panic, remember: you’re aiming for “elevated everyday,” not “meeting the Queen.” Unless, of course, you actually are meeting the Queen, in which case ignore everything I’ve said and get yourself a proper hat.
For the rest of us, leave the fascinators for the races, embrace the smart-casual middle ground, and focus your energy where it belongs—on deciding whether the jam or cream goes on the scone first. (It’s cream first, fight me.)
