March 18th 2025
Introduction
I’m watching the weather for warmth. Today it’s ten degrees not five which it was last week. I sometimes think of this as an elemental battle or as the Greeks understood it, with the gods. Beira is the Scottish goddess of winter. A few thousand miles away, this is the story of Persephone reappearing in spring.
It is warming, but slowly, so I don’t trust it. That happened a few years ago after a Siberia influenced season. Normally I embrace and enjoy the better weather when it arrives. I didn’t feel that ease initially then after many weeks thought to myself: why aren’t you enjoying this in a tee shirt? It was warm, but I hadn’t relaxed into it.
A New Jacket
I went into a men’s clothes shop for a look around more than anything, because of the expense. Two or three hundred pounds for a jacket. I was wondering about sale items but there weren’t any and even then, it would cost too much. I bought a sale jacket from Debenhams last week, £25 reduced from £145. There were similar fabrics in the shop. A few years ago I bought a fine wool Italian jacket for £15 from Marks and Spencer. Midnight blue it’s called, slightly lighter than navy. I don’t know the original price, probably £200. I started thinking about this subject and realised it connects with the outdoors.
I said to the man in the shop, admiring his stock, “it’s subtle but beautiful” which it is. The fabrics I like, which he had, are found in traditional British but also Italian tailoring. I don’t really notice men’s fashion as such, in regard to the current trend. Jackets and sleeves are short in relation to narrow trousers, shop man explained, because that works best for the overall shape. The effect is one of contraction. I’ve never thought about men’s clothes as an indicator of social mood (it’s more apparent with women) but it obviously applies.
What does the trend mean? Are men withdrawing, or trying to escape confinement like the Incredible Hulk becoming enormous leaving ripped clothes behind? I remember an astute young comic fan say, somewhere on the internet, yeah well that doesn’t make sense, because he’s still wearing the trousers.
I think men are feeling constricted within society and wanting a little more freedom. I tread carefully because this topic gets emotive for some people. Think of it like this. Early feminists said patriarchy also oppresses men. Which it does. What if you’re not Springsteen Dancing in the Dark, Brad Pitt as Achilles, 007 with Pussy Galore, Honey Ryder, and her Aphrodite emergence from the sea: did those names really happen?
You might be like Bertrand Russell, imprisoned for six months after refusing to fight in the First World War. Or Wilfred Owen, devastated because he had to be there when men were shot for cowardice, transormed into haunting art: “I am the enemy you killed, my friend.” Or there’s Woody Allen, making millions because of witty beta compensation. La-dee-da, la-dee-da.
I notice women’s fashion, and at the time of the pandemic they were baring their bellies. Still are, but that’s when it started. The psychology of it was obvious. Millions have died, we’re trapped and alone, let’s solve the problem and, so to speak, get in there. Not even a preliminary aesthetic. Skirt lines up, skirt lines down, have a well known economic correspondence. It’s about mood, optimism, and the stock market.
When summer arrives I like slouching around in shorts, sandals, and a vest or tee shirt. There’s a feeling of freedom where I don’t care what I’m wearing, I just love the sun and thus minimal cover.
Which leads me to the outdoors. I’ve heard people say there’s an elitism and judgement in regard to kit and clothing. Perhaps there is for some, but I think it’s mostly imaginary. I never think about it, notice it, or met anyone who did. Which over the years – the Lake District, Snowdonia, Scotland, Peak District, Corsica, Alps, Pyrenees – is a lot of people. I think it’s a story confected for other reasons. They like their politics, not the simplicity of the hills, so it’s an obsession.
Even if it’s imaginary, what it suggests is a social competition when you’re walking and camping, which is ridiculous. If you like expensive hill kit, for the sake of it, that replicates a society dynamic which for me is the opposite of the hill experience. I understand enjoying a new walking jacket when you’re warm and dry in the rain after years of discomfort (I did) but that’s not what I’m referring to.
Then there are people who wear outdoor gear in society, and indeed the sub-culture of sports wear for the street which means logos, trainers, and a football related style. I know nothing about it except for the trainers and parental complaints, when children want the latest expensive whatever.
Here’s where I reach my philosophical finale. What you wear is about identity. I like my new green jacket, which is normal in society, and don’t care about kit in the hills as such. If you do care – the latest season Arcteryx? – it’s because you want an outdoors persona.
I find this a problem with the outdoors industry and related social media, presenting the subject like it’s a lifestyle, with fashion aesthetic advertisements. It’s the opposite for me, because hills are about less not more.
We also have city lives and might ask the question: I like to walk but then what do you do indoors? I like books, films, art, jazz, and so on, and will speak of this occasionally at my Footnotes. I like reading outside in select places amongst trees, beside a river, and where it catches the sun.
As with A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you escape society and find magic in nature. But then come back from a wild place, into inescapable urban living.
Featured Walks
I‘ve walked this a few times in the Carneddau and it’s good. I set off after lunch, arrive in the afternoon, walk for less than two hours and arrive at a lake, before any climbing. Have a cooked dinner made the night before, heavy but I haven’t carried it for long, a good sleep, then I’m in the hills for the next day.
That was the plan anyway. A fierce wind started up in the night, flattening my tent onto me, which I became resigned to because I had no choice. It’s not too bad. You’re protected from rain (that came later) and sleep like you’re in a bivouac bag.
There’s a bothy nearby but I’ve never used them. They feel too much like a disused cellar with a muddy and dusty floor. Harsh bare walls, a window which needs replacing, and you can’t walk upstairs for a shower and the fridge.
At the top of the route, on the plateau, there are marvellous views across to the Devil’s Kitchen where mist often hangs. That’s what you see in the photograph.
There’s a problem every seasoned walker knows about. Don’t tell everyone about the good places and more recently, definitely not where to camp. Vandal campers will go there with beer, a barbecue, and disregard for the landscape. There’s a subtlety however with some places, which won’t appeal because they never have.
The vandals sometimes climb. I saw a terrible picture after the pandemic of a discarded tent, chairs, and assorted mess at Angle Tarn above Glenridding. But no one would choose Scoat Fell and Red Pike at Wasdale when the greater attractions, for the wrong kind, are presumably like flashing night club neon after a few cans.
It’s grotesque. The beautiful places are other, and that’s the point of it. Don’t take the streets into Wasdale or Glen Etive. Keep the rowdy behaviour in the city, if you like it, because that’s where it belongs.
Additionally, beautiful Etive is where Deirdre and Naoise retreated and found safety:
Glen Etive, O Glen Etive,
There I raised my earliest house,
Beautiful its woods on rising,
When the sun fell on Glen Etive (link)
As you see, I tread carefully, and know there are also decent people who feel as I do and would enjoy Glaramara as a new discovery. It will never be a popular hill. Even for myself, I didn’t go there for years, because of the striking drama nearby. I went there when I felt don’t do the same thing again, have a look around, and find a hidden, quiet, indeed silent place.