Every time a “new” colour becomes fashionable, ask yourself how much longevity it will have in your wardrobe. Do you have enough compatible items to make it truly useful? Is it summer only, or could you make it work year round? How soon before you get sick of it?
A new shade can be an amazing energy provider, but if it’s too needy, it can lurk, unworn. Don’t even think about it if it doesn’t suit you. Obvious – but seduction is a powerful force.
Buttermilk is relatively easy to find, without being ubiquitous. Here we go, I thought. They’re trying to rebrand cream and make it sound exciting.
But buttermilk isn’t cream exactly. It’s warmer, with a hint of the palest yellow imaginable. Importantly, it’s not beige or taupe, of which you probably already have plenty and which contain brown. It’s a bit confused about its own identity, to be honest. The Reiss jacket I’m wearing is described online as cream. But that makes it somehow more appealing.
Think Grace Kelly on the Côte d’Azur in To Catch a Thief in 1955, Naomi Watts many moons ago at the Oscars, or the Princess of Wales, who has worn it repeatedly. In other words, it’s a classic you could wheel out at any time – unlike full-on yellow, which is stunning on the right person, but requires a very specific set of other colours to make it sing.
Buttermilk is much easier to match. Wear it close to your face and it makes khaki, black and navy look chic rather than draining. With white, we’re in Gwyneth Paltrow’s Talented Mr Ripley territory – her very best in my opinion. Pastel without being remotely sickly.
That’s key. While many pale colours instantly conjure up summer, they can be saccharine and girlish. Butter yellow is more versatile and sophisticated – a pastel with Dorothy Parker vibes. Given how versatile buttermilk is – you could wear it as a suit to a wedding for instance, without offending the bride, which you might in a cream suit – buttermilk can fairly be described as a quiet overachiever of the wardrobe. It’s much more useful than a white suit, which really only works on stage or at the altar. And because it sits in an in between land – not quite cream, not quite yellow – it doesn’t shout “new season”.
Where it’s most useful
The softened suit
Your oatmeal suit is the workhorse, but the buttermilk version is fresh and can be dressed up for just about every summery do imaginable. Keep the lines sharp, then add contrast with a navy knit or chocolate brown belt and shoes. White is a lovely addition. If you’re going to Royal Ascot and considering wearing some tomato red, its first ever colour of the year, you could work a scarf into your look very satisfactorily.
The upgraded neutral column
Head-to-toe variations of buttermilk feel joyous. Mix it with cream or deeper shades of yellow. A light wool coat in pale grey or even navy stops it being bridal. Break it up gently with tan accessories or tortoiseshell frames so it doesn’t drift into blankness.
The jacket refresh
If you already own a classic dark blazer or Chanel-style jacket, buttermilk underneath (a fine knit or simple tee) lightens and modernises it. Think less of a heritage museum, more a contemporary gallery. Show a clean cuff, keep the neckline open, and avoid anything too fussy.
The anti-black evening trick
Instead of defaulting to black at night, try a buttermilk blouse or fluid top with black trousers or a dark skirt. The contrast is flattering near the face and far more interesting than head-to-toe noir.
As a tool, not a statement
It doesn’t have to be a full-on suit or dress. A separate might be enough; use it as good lighting in a badly lit room.
Lisa wears: Silk wool blazer, £395 and trousers, £265, Reiss; 2-in-1 vest, £65 and leather bag, £450, both Me+Em; Suede shoes, £129, Nobody’s Child; Gold plated earrings, £90; cuff, £85 and bangle, £86, all Lines & Current; Polarized sunglasses, £307, Persol