In an age of cinema, media production and consumer product dominated by remakes, reboots and revivals, it is not unreasonable for one to come to the rather gloomy conclusion that we have entered a phase of cultural stagnation. And certainly, it is a development currently being dissected and analysed by a whole host of contemporary philosophers, critics and internet pundits. The implications of this phenomena are perhaps as of yet unclear, but one thing that is clear to me is what these cycles are being driven by: Nostalgia. And this is not very surprising. For as we head further into a world of economic and technological uncertainty, we will inevitably gravitate toward that which brings familial comfort and warmth. In this respect, nostalgia is a particularly sweet tonic for the anxiety addled modern mind.

I myself, am no stranger to the pursuit of such sensations. In fact, I would say a large portion of the last decade or so of my life has involved excavating the various mines of nostalgia that once laid buried in the annals of my subconscious. Yes, with the giant archiving machine that is the internet, I was able to get re-acquainted with all the Tele-visual childhood ephemera that I had once imprinted itself upon my mind. And for me, one of those things was the 1995 animated rendition of that most English of childrens stories: The Wind in The Willows.

I have particularly fond memories of this version of the tale, as I grew up watching it on VHS in a ritualistic fashion every time I visited my grandparents house. This was certainly a more innocent and whimsical era of my life, and so too was this story of Toad, Rat, Mole and Badger. But in between the fun and adventure, and underneath the charm of the voice acting of Rick Mayall and Michael Palin, there did lie a genuinely tangible ideal of English country life, which I do still very much relate to. So this humble gem of an animated film seemed like a natural choice to revisit.

Upon this viewership I was awash with the usual sensations and emotions that come with such nostalgia trips. The awakening of lost memories and the bittersweet reminiscences etc. I will spare you those details though, as today I wish to talk about the one thing that stood out to me in my now sartorially inclined mind. And this is the fine selection of menswear that is on display throughout the film.

As the wind in the willows was conceived in a time in which British life was far more regimented, the wardrobe selection certainly conveys a feeling of belonging and place. The embodiment of a practical approach to dressing, born out of a sensitivity to occasion and tradition. In light of this, you will see Mr Toad in a boating blazer and straw hat when on the river. And when he is engaging in the sport of motoring, he will don a shearling leather car coat, flat cap and goggles. Then for a grand ball at Toad Hall, a tuxedo with a rather daring choice of purple cummerbund (very fitting for the rakish toad).

The real master of ‘drip’ here though is the effortlessly cool Ratty. From the very start of the film we see him in a brilliant light tonal ensemble, with off white chinos, crisp white deck shoes and an ecru shirt with a very distinct pleated chest pocket that references old British army styles. Later he is seen wearing the same outfit with a tan blazer, and also accessorising with a ‘Daisy Mae’ style bucket hat in white. These are clean and elegant looks for leisurely summer days spent in the sun, reminiscent of the styling in Brideshead, but also like something you would find on a Ralph Lauren Purple Label model today.

Other Ratty highlights include his magnificent belted Norfolk jacket, which he wears with boots and gaiters whilst braving the elements in his search for Mr Mole. Later, at dinner in Badgers house, the jacket and gaiters are removed and a cosy ensemble is revealed, consisting of a Navy wool knit vest, Green moleskin trousers and a pair of very distinct Red socks (an esoteric style choice you see quite often on Jermyn Street in London).

At this dinner, badger is shown in a state of evening ease, resplendent in striped pyjamas, a red dressing gown with turnback cuffs, slippers on and churchwarden pipe in hand. Similar getups involving shawl collar robes with rope belts and accented piping appear in other scenes. It all ends up looking like something out of an anthropomorphised New & Lingwood editorial shot…

The ever gentle Mr Mole has one or two memorable fits too. Most notable being a lovely combo of belted overcoat in a royal blue shade, with a contrasting Red scarf thrown around the neck for added warmth out in the snow. The green socks add a further pop of colour and are somehow complimented well by black loafers. To me the eccentric styling here is actually quite Parisian, and channels a ‘French Ivy’ type of look, perhaps comparable to contemporary Drake’s or old Arny’s (R.I.P).

I now conclude my roundup of this wonderfully animated gem from the 1990s. Perhaps this Is all rather silly, musing upon such childish things for stylistic inspiration. But I do believe it warranted a spotlight, as the animators here really did such an excellent job illustrating how these styles moved on the backs of these charming creatures. The whole production to me just really spoke to an acutely British taste in colour and overall aesthetic. And whilst I do not perhaps recommend a Toad-esque Yellow Windowpane suit, I do think the overall spirit of this version is something that any aspiring aesthete can take inspiration from.

The whole thing is available in high quality on YouTube, so have at you!