With the arrival of midsummer, I am mostly to be found in my seasonal uniform of borderline-too-short shorts, Henley tee, boots and a fisherman’s smock.
It was my stepfather, Ian, who bought me my first smock – he was getting a new one for himself, so he picked up two and gave one to me. It was a great sack of a thing from Yarmo, with a big patch pocket on the front and weirdly short arms. As a man with a 42-inch chest at the time (age and self-indulgence have since broadened me to a 44), I considered XXL a little excessive, but he explained that you’re supposed to wear them well oversized.
I think he envisaged me putting it on for chilly days sitting at my laptop, but in fact I found myself wearing it all the time, because it is a useful garment for doing useful things. It softened and faded, and I started putting it under my buoyancy aid when I went out kayaking on flat water. It wasn’t waterproof, but it kept the wind off, dried quickly and was much comfier and more breathable than my spray top.
Over the years I’ve amassed a collection of several more, and there’s usually one billowing on the washing line – bleached, frayed, salt-washed, and splotched with old spots of oil or wood stain.
I wear a smock for gardening, cleaning, gutting bunnies, DIY and dog walking. I’ve worn one for strimming the churchyard and dry-stone walling in the Dales. I fish off the pier in one, and wipe my oily hands on it when I’m doing jobs on my car or bicycle. Most of all, I like to go paddling my kayak in a smock on summer evenings, bobbing around in the bay on a rising tide with the smell of wildflowers coming off the headland.
Where to get one
Because smocks are simple working garments, they still seem to be quite a cottage industry. Mine are all UK-made, mostly by small family businesses. You can get some really nice upmarket versions from the likes of Carrier Company, Yarmouth Oilskins or Berties of Bay (I love their ticking stripe cuff turn-ups), but you can also pick up a perfectly serviceable one for 40 quid or less. Mine are at the cheaper end of the scale, so I don’t feel bad about ruining them a bit.
My original Yarmo smock (still going strong) is made in a tactile crinkly sailcloth – and some makers use denim or linen – but most people run them up in cotton drill. Different companies use different weights of fabric, and they all have their place. My lightest one is from Newlyn Smocks, and the heaviest is from Elgar Shirts (they normally use midweight twill, but this one was a sale-page cheapie patched together from leftover bits and bobs of trouser material). Some of my favourites are from the Smock Shop in Penzance – the fabric is quite thick and it isn’t the softest when it arrives, but it wears in beautifully. I’ve got one of theirs in Breton red that’s starting to look really good after about five years.
Sizing and style
Ian was right – you do need to get them oversized. Knowing better, as a younger man always does, I once bought a lovely Norfolk slop (a regional term for the round-necked version) from Carrier Company, but I ordered my actual size. It looked super when it arrived, but after a couple of years of saltwater soakings and regular washing, it got too tight across the chest and I ended up eBaying it to a smaller man. Even if the website tells you they’re pre-shrunk and true to size, I’d go at least a size up – possibly two.
The sleeves are usually cropped deliberately short to keep them out of the way, and most people seem to turn them back to three quarter length anyway. If you want them full-length, have a shop around – some makers do cut them longer.
Apart from that, the main choice is what sort of neckline you want. Broadly, there are the traditional round neck versions, or collared V-neck ones, often with inset neck gussets or lacing. I’ve tried a few of them and I think I like a simple V-neck best – it slips on easily without snagging on my specs, the collar protects my neck and stops my buoyancy aid rubbing. I’ve had a couple with laces at the neck, but they get in my way and I always end up cutting them out eventually.
I do think it’s a bit of a shame that most companies have done away with the big envelope pocket across the front and now just have two smaller hand-size patch pockets instead. Even Yarmo now configure theirs that way, but I like the single bigger pouch because it’s almost like having a satchel stitched onto your chest. I’ve filled mine with elderflowers, rosehips, apples and other pilfered delights while I’m out walking – and even if you’re just pottering in the garden it’s nice to have room for your secateurs, weeding knife, twine, wire and all the other odds and sods.
How many is too many?
As usual, for something that you should really only need one of, I’ve ended up with five. I keep seeing them in new colours, styles or fabrics and thinking, ‘well, another one will always come in, won’t it?’ Currently I’m contemplating a linen one to make me look like a member of the Staithes Group, or a multicoloured patchwork version like a Flowerpot Man. Too far? Possibly.
