The gift of the garb

Practicality and royalty have been major influences on sporting clothing down the decades. Sam Carlisle is a dedicated follower

- Sam Carlisle

Freezing fog hung in the air and snow was forecast for later in the day. I was facing the prospect of five hours standing on red alert on a slightly raised platform in a German forest, hoping that a wild boar might trundle past.

Having looked at the forecast and watched the whole series of Wild Boar Fever on YouTube, where every member of the cast is decked out in the latest technical garb, I’d gone and bought myself some new shooting clothes. My matching trousers and jacket were fleece-lined, thornproofed, Gore-Tex membraned and will-certainly-make-you-better-at shootinged to the hilt.

At breakfast, I realised I’d misjudged the mood. Everyone else was clad in elegant loden and my compatriots were head-to-toe in tweed — except one unmentionable Scot, who insisted on wearing a kilt despite it being -5°C.

“I’m surprised you’re wearing such new clothes,” said an amiable German. “I thought Brits were the most traditional of all when it came to shooting.” I surveyed the crowd, all of whom wore ties, formal German jackets and lederhosen. Clearly, I’d overstepped the mark. But, shooting pheasants back home, the only thing that would have been remiss were my trousers. Given snow was forecast, even they might have been forgiven.

How did we get the reputation of being the most traditional of all in our sporting dress? And how did we end up with the ubiquitous fashions you see in the field today?

The Georgians