A self-proclaimed light packer, I tend to allow myself one piece of outerwear per trip, as it’s often the bulkiest thing I carry. Historically, I’ve stood in front of my closet, doing a whole lot of mental gymnastics while packing—something that can be worn on the plane and go with many different outfits, I say to myself—while my small-but-mighty carry-on watches the drama unfold. But after a few years doing this thing we call travel writing, I think I’ve cracked the code. Unless I’m headed to the Arctic or the Caribbean, it always seems as though my Barbour barn jacket gets a seat on the plane.
The other day, a relatable TikTok came across my desk: “When you only bring one coat with you on your trip,” it read, while a girl in a silk skirt and chic ballet flats descends a flight of stairs, her outfit topped with a waterproof sports jacket. “Ryanair out here creating fashionistas,” someone commented. I am positive that @lilymayb56’s night would’ve been saved had she packed a Barbour, and she wouldn’t have to sacrifice waterproof comfort on her hike the next day.
I’ve always been enchanted by the way Barbour jackets are both a regal symbol of British craftsmanship yet, styled a certain way, can also look kind of grungy. They carry an allegiance to the crown (see Kate Middleton at literally any charity event), but are also a favorite amongst party girls (see Alexa Chung at literally any Glastonbury). You could also say these jackets capture the cottage-core aesthetic of wearers like Martha Stewart, or the status-driven spirit of fast-talking finance bros in New York. I can’t think of another fashion item that’s as multidimensional.
I acquired my Barbour Acorn waxed jacket in the fateful year of 2020. I had just started my first job out of college and was in London visiting my boyfriend at the time; the jacket felt like my first designer, big-girl purchase. To this day, it’s one of my most cherished and memorable souvenirs, not least because it delayed my journey home. Despite getting to Heathrow exceptionally early, I underestimated how long the wait time was in the VAT refund line, and missed my flight for an $11 return on the Barbour (there were many lessons to be learned here, mainly that money comes and goes, but extra time spent with loved ones is priceless).
My beloved barn jacket dates back to 19th-century France—referred to as a chore coat or bleu de travail—where it was worn among farmers and laborers who relied on its tough, moleskin fabric to get them through fieldwork. Historically, these jackets embody a very utilitarian look, with a long, boxy cut and oversized front patch pockets for holding tools. The contrasting collar, usually made of corduroy, is meant to provide soft comfort against the neck.
