10th February, Manchester
Cold. Properly cold. That damp chill that gets into your bones before you’ve even had a chance to zip your coat. I’d come up for work, meetings in Deansgate, and had an hour to kill before the train home. Wandering Oldham Street, I ducked into a little streetwear place just to get out of the wind. Tried on the Essentials Hoodie. Didn’t even check the price properly. Bought it. Wore it out of the shop. Felt like I’d had it for years by the time I reached Piccadilly.
3rd March, London
Woke late. Grabbed the Essentials Hoodie from the back of the chair, the one with yesterday’s train ticket still in the pocket. Chucked it on over a white tee, black jeans, trainers. Rain halfway to the Tube — the sort where it’s barely visible but you feel it in your hair. Hoodie dried before I’d even got to Oxford Circus.
Mid-March, Liverpool
Match day. Streets buzzing near Anfield. My cousin’s in full Essentials Tracksuit — top and bottoms, both jet black, trainers spotless. I’d borrowed the tracksuit bottoms from him the night before. Didn’t want to give them back. There’s something about the weight, the cut — no sag, no cling, just easy movement. Bought my own set the next week.
23rd March, Brighton
Evening light gold on the water. Hoodie round my shoulders, chips on the beach, gulls doing their usual. Friend says I’m “ridiculously attached” to the thing. She’s not wrong.
5th April, Glasgow
Wind straight down Sauchiehall Street. Hoodie under a flannel, tracksuit bottoms on, coffee cup warming my hands. People here have layering down to an art. Parkas over hoodies over knits, all working together like they’d planned it. My hoodie fits right in.
Side note on fabric: Both pieces — the hoodie and the tracksuit — handle UK weather better than most jackets I’ve owned. Damp mornings, mild afternoons, sudden bursts of sun — they breathe without losing warmth. That’s rare. I’ve had cheaper versions that either trapped heat like a bin bag or went limp after one wet day.
April in York
Station clock ticking. Me in the Essentials Tracksuit bottoms, waxed jacket over a jumper, waiting for the 09:32. Rain streaking the glass roof, the tannoy announcing “minor delays due to signalling issues”. I’ve got a coffee in one hand, train ticket folded in the other. Comfort matters on mornings like this — the tracksuit’s soft enough for sitting still but doesn’t look like pyjamas when you stand up.
Late April, Cornwall
Windy cliff path, hoodie hood up, watching white foam crash against rocks. I’d stuffed the Essentials Hoodie into a rucksack in London and pulled it out hours later. Still looked fine. That’s the difference between this and the bargain-bin hoodies — you can shove it in a bag and it bounces back.
Random conversation in Cardiff
Burger place queue. Guy behind me asks if my tracksuit’s Fear of God. Told him it was the Essentials Tracksuit, got it online after trying a mate’s. He says he’s been thinking about it. I tell him it’s worth it if you wear it — really wear it — not just keep it for “best”.
June, London heatwave
Well, “heatwave” by UK standards — 27°C and everyone’s acting like Spain. Hoodie tied round my waist for the morning commute, swapped for the Essentials Tracksuit shorts (yes, they exist) later in the day. That adaptability’s the point. Same cut, same comfort, just less fabric.
August bank holiday, Margate
Full tracksuit in soft grey. Stupid choice for the beach? Maybe. But the weather turned halfway through the day — hot chips in the sun, hoodie back on by the time we were walking the pier. That’s UK summer: never trust it.
Why they last: I’ve not babied either piece. Hoodie’s been through the wash more times than I can count, air dried on a clothes horse in the hallway. Tracksuit’s been on trains, buses, coaches, chucked on pub benches. Seams still tight, cuffs still elastic. The prints haven’t cracked, no loose threads. I’ve had “designer” bits fall apart faster.
December, Birmingham
Christmas shopping chaos. Hoodie under a heavy coat, scarf tucked in, moving from overheated shops to icy streets. It’s the middle layer I keep coming back to — never too bulky, never too thin.
One last note on cost: Not cheap. I hesitated before buying the tracksuit, less so the hoodie. But if you’re measuring in cost-per-wear, they’ve both paid for themselves. I’ve worn them to the point where they’re part of my default wardrobe. That’s the test for me — when you stop noticing you’ve chosen them.
