From the Wild West to West London: The indomitable rise of cowboy core

Once upon a time, the Wild West was something we experienced at a safe distance, through books and films, or imagined via the romance of a long railway journey, or a picnic in a grassy meadow.

Right now, it feels as if the West is all around us, in our wardrobes, influencing our interiors and music, and even our language. Suede and well-worn leather jackets no longer read as costumes, but coveted staples. Fringing can be found where tailoring once reigned supreme and double denim is considered streetstyle chic. And our homes are a smörgåsbord of ranch-like textures, from supple saddle leather (John Lewis sells a saddle leather armchair which must mean it’s broken into the mainstream) and rough reclaimed timbers, to silky sheepskin.

Perhaps this new-found longing for a Wild West life is down to the tsunami of Taylor Sheridan television shows, chiefly Paramount+’s Yellowstone, 1883 and 1923 with their panoramic shots of a far-reaching Montana skyline and rustic interiors, themes of land, loyalty and legacy, and the fact that every male character, from the landmen to the lawyers, is clad in chaps and boots. ‘Cowboys,’ goes the popular meme, ‘because no woman has ever dreamed about being swept off her feet by an accountant.’

However, at the centre of Yellowstone is a female character, Beth Dutton — a surly, sultry force, played impeccably by Kelly Reilly and as mesmerising as her male counterparts. Beth stomps from barn to boardroom, dressed in floral dresses and battered boots, tailored blazers and statement outerwear. It’s a look that, in part, Britons have long embraced at summer music festivals, but in recent years has evolved and is at home on the King’s Road as it is on the fields of Glastonbury. That her style has resonated so strongly in the UK speaks to an appreciation of durability and craft, qualities already synonymous with luxury British fashion. Now it just comes with a twist of Americana.

Disclaimer: I am an American, but I have lived in London for 10 years, and I own a pair of cowboy boots, but did not feel inclined to break them out until fairly recently — to a Zach Bryan concert in Hyde Park and to my daughter’s Cowgirl themed sixth birthday, but also to dinner at my local pub and to a friend’s non-cowboy-themed birthday party. What would have once made me stand out from the crowd in a ‘she’s not from here’ kind of way, is now cool.

‘Cowboy boots are the mainstay of our boot business,’ says shoe-designer Penelope Chilvers. The brand has stocked an iteration of a cowboy boot ever since they launched, but 2025 sales were up 48% year on year, and 70% of sales are first-time customers purchasing a pair of the boots. And it goes beyond boots: Hermès and Marie Lichtenberg stock much longed-for Western-inspired bandana scarfs, as do, at the slightly more affordable end of the market, Gigi Hadid’s Guest in Residence’s brand and Kujten.

‘I recently chased the chicest lady down the street to ask where her brown fringed coat was from,’ says Louise Roe, the founder of Sharland England, ‘It was the perfect chocolate brown and slightly oversized on the shoulder. I didn’t think I loved cowboy cool until that moment. There’s a modern, slightly more refined version of cowboy that I’m into.’

Double denim, or the ‘Canadian tuxedo’, is the trickiest part of the cowboy uniform to master, but it, too, is making a comeback (though influential people such as designer Tom Ford never stopped wearing it after its peak in the 1980s). ‘I love the nostalgia a denim shirt brings to a look — it's comforting and casual’ says Pip Durrell, the founder of With Nothing Underneath. The brand’s own iteration was their best selling shirt of 2025 with sales twice what they were in 2024. Brunello Cucinelli sells elevated versions of the denim shirt for both men and women: with mother-of-pearl buttons for the former, and bead embellishing for the latter. Three years ago, Maison Margiela’s collaboration with American textile company Pendleton Woolen Mills made headlines in fashion magazines and online the world over. John Galliano, Margiela’s creative director from 2014-2024, selected three mid-century weaves from the heritage brand’s archive to construct the collection. The plaid, check and fringed pieces are still available to purchase online.

Rooted in American workwear, but long championed by designers such as Ralph Lauren that are popular on both sides of the pond, denim-on-denim has evolved from a utilitarian necessity into a lived-in look that screams confidence. And it's neatly aligned with the British affection for clothes that soften and improve with age. A bit of market research into my own closet reveals that I own five, well-worn denim shirts. One has a pointed yoke and pearl snap buttons; two are from With Nothing Underneath and I wear them every week, in London and the countryside.

For younger generations, Americana feels less like a trend, more a quiet act of rebellion. Gen Z has turned thrifting into an art form, wandering through vintage stores and scrolling resale apps in search of hidden treasures. They’re stepping away from fast fashion and toward pieces with history — clothes that have lived a little and that carry stories in their seams. With its faded denim and weathered leather, Americana feels honest and real. It offers something steady and soulful at a time when so many young people are still shaping who they are and how they want the world to see them. Plus, there’s a lot of it leftover from the late 1970s and 1980s.

The creeping influence of Americana is now so strong that you might even spot a cowboy hat or two while out and about in the capital. Yes, cowboy hats. In London! Don’t believe me? Take a trip to Public House Group’s immensely popular restaurant The Fat Badger when Alan Power and the Take Twos are performing and you’ll spot clusters of city slickers wearing them, slinging beers and singing along as if they were in a Wild West saloon and not an upscale pub on Golborne Road.

Our homes, like our wardrobes, are not immune to the trend. ‘Recently, I’ve been drawn to using handwoven textiles such as quilts and antique rugs as wall hangings, with a beautiful bronze pole,’ says interior designer Natasha Quick. ‘I love the sense of craft involved, and it adds an element of informality.’ It is not the first time that the Brits have sought interior design inspiration from their American friends. Contrary to conventional wisdom, classic American decoration is more than a pale imitation of English: Sister Parish (a decorator, not a nun), Rose Cumming, Dorothy Draper and Billy Baldwin were all innovators rather than pastiche merchants. And then there's the irony that the high priestess of classic English decoration, Nancy Lancaster, was from Virginia, who added wit, humour, comfort and good plumbing to miserable English country houses. At the time of writing, Kendall Jenner’s ‘Cozy Mountain Home’ reveal video has more than four million views on YouTube. The informality, I think, is key. British interiors historically lean towards the more formal, so a touch of the West can help break things up and lend a room a level of accessibility and warmth.

It would be remiss of me to write about Americana’s infiltration into British culture without acknowledging the global dominance of Taylor Swift (above). The American singer-songwriter, who honed her craft in Nashville, the country music capital of the world, recently played eight sold-out nights at Wembley Stadium, the most number of performances at any stadium on her record-breaking Eras Tour. Taylor’s country ballads about achy-breaky hearts, bad boys and fractured friendships have resonated far beyond their American origins. In the UK, her appeal has shaped not only musical tastes and popularised Western dress and friendship bracelets, but pushed a romanticised vision of American storytelling. Sequinned jumpsuits and bedazzled cowgirl hats will forever be the definitive look for generations of women en route to the Eras Tour.

As with most wider trends, it’s likely these cultural touchstones intersect with a desire for authenticity and comfort. Americana through the British lens is more subtle, more layered, maybe even more wearable. From catwalks to country homes, the pull of the Western aesthetic has never felt stronger. It’s “Cheerio” meets “Yeehaw” and I, for one, am here for it. Giddy Up Ya’ll!