Serious times demand serious discussion. So let’s talk about white denim: why it’s so good and how to wear it best this summer. I love white denim with an unreasonable verve and a sentimental passion that I feel might never ebb. Slipping on a pair of ivory pantaloons isn’t like hopping into a pair of jeans ordinaire, oh no – these make me feel ready, lithe, panther-ish, Jagger-y. They’re dandy in their aesthetic overtures, which is probably why they’re so damnably impractical. Zip the fly and suddenly I’m a spoiled princeling who knows the value of everything and the price of nothing – but mostly gets away with it. Think of Blackadder’s Prince George: silly, wilful and more angry at the loss of his silk socks than being threatened with bankruptcy by Pitt and parliament.
 
White-denim disciples know that prancing around worrying about dirty seats is death – so ride that dusty old log flume of a subway seat without a care, kick-start the sticky-seated motorbike of life and fling yourself across bar banquettes with abandon. White denim implores us to bring it on!

As the regular codes of sartorial conduct don’t tend to apply to such a one-off fabric, white-denim wearers can write their own rules. But there are a few basic tenets that are worth running with before choosing to unleash some white-jeaned goodness on the world. 

First of all, don’t go super-white or super-tight. Too brilliant a white makes you look like a dentist. The correct hue can be found somewhere between writing paper and a cricket jumper. On fit, controversially, you can afford to go a little tighter than you might with ordinary jeans or trousers because if, like me, you are the careful owner of a rower’s bum, tennis-pro thighs and a coquettishly well-turned ankle, you might as well put on a show. Woof. If not, let out a little sail.

You’re picking up a vibe, aren’t you? You think white denim’s a little sleazy and that nights in it are fever dreams of thirsty besmirchment and gooey folly; the one-night-only glamour of vulgarity. Well, you’re right and wrong: it’s in the eye of the beholder. White denim can possess an admirable loucheness while exhibiting weapons-grade preppiness, too: there are hectares of advertising imagery of Ralph Lauren families dressed for chic lobster-shack hominess in casually weekending white denim. It’s all about how you wear it.

Pair your white denim with brown shoes of suede or canvas (or boots for a twang of western suggestion) and a collared shirt in any dark colour that isn’t black and with three buttons loose. Find a jacket that matches your shoes and wear that hat that you might judge to be too much. You look great. White denim tidies and makes trim while suggesting summer softness and rock-star holidays remembered in Super 8 – a tough trick to pull off. 

A couple of weeks ago, I was reporting a story with a cool French photographer who wished that he was better at hiking and climbing. How did he judge his progress? Well, he had recently scaled a considerable summit and, on reaching the top, found an Italian guy standing there in a jumper, trying to get a phone signal. “Just, you know, chilled and smoking and wearing white jeans,” the photographer grumbled. “Some people make it look easy,” I said. “White jeans, that is.”

And finally, when you’re walking into a room, remember to channel the opening lines of white denim’s unofficial anthem: “You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht…” No, you’re so vain. 

Robert Bound is a contributing editor at Monocle. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.
 
Further reading:
- Embark on a grand tour of European retail with Monocle this summer

- Black has had its day – here’s why the world’s best-dressed are turning to brown

- Feel good summer fits: Three fashion designers defining warm-weather style in Rio, Milan and Palma

France has spent much of 2026 punching above its weight on the world stage, reminding other countries that there’s more to influence than GDP and increased military spending (writes Alistair MacQueen). The opening of Air France’s new lounge at Heathrow’s Terminal 4 is another example of such statecraft. Flag-carrying airlines remain one of the few areas where nations can still project their values abroad but too many lounges feel increasingly samey, with Scandinavian-style interiors, artisanal coffee and anodyne buffets. Air France wants more theatre during departure; it wants to bring premium long-haul experiences to medium-haul departure gates.

Featuring expansive windows with runway views, the lounge interior was designed by creative agency Marks Brandimage and furnished with pieces by Margaux Keller, Pierre Paulin and Christophe Pillet. 
 
During Monocle’s mid-afternoon visit, one traveller is answering emails with a glass of Laurent Perrier while another makes a beeline for a second helping of tarte tatin. Meanwhile, an unhurried traveller heads into the Clarins spa for a rejuvenating massage before catching a connecting flight en route to Cairo. 
 
“A lot of our customers are flying to Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport to connect and fly on to elsewhere in the world,” says UK and Ireland general manager Jerome Salemi. “It’s important that the lounge is not just a waiting room but also an expression of our values as a global brand: the authenticity, the elegance and the French way of living well.” It’s a fil rouge that we can all get onboard with.

It’s Friday, so let’s start things off on the right foot. If you had plans to stay in tonight, forget them. Here are three stories that might just sway you.