Three Wednesdays ago, I found myself in a fashion emergency. My suitcase had decided to holiday in Dublin while I’d flown to Edinburgh for a last-minute work event, leaving me with precisely what I was wearing—jeans, a jumper with a suspicious stain from the plane’s coffee service, and definitely not the outfit needed for a panel discussion on “The Future of British Fashion” happening in approximately four hours.
With limited time and unfamiliar territory, I headed for the safest bet in any British city center: the department store. Edinburgh’s Jenners (now sadly closed, a moment of silence please) saved me with a simple black dress and blazer combo that looked pulled-together enough to convince an audience I’d planned it all along. Crisis averted, £180 spent, and a potent reminder that department stores—those supposedly dated dinosaurs of retail—remain the unsung heroes of British fashion emergencies.
While the narrative of recent years has focused on department store decline (and yes, the closures of Debenhams and Beales were genuine losses to our high streets), those that remain have quietly evolved into something rather interesting. Not cutting-edge, perhaps, but reliable in a way that’s distinctly valuable in today’s hit-or-miss retail landscape.
Let’s start with John Lewis, the middle-class mothership. Beyond their reliable basics and solid homeware lies a fashion department that’s undergone a remarkable glow-up. Their own-brand collections have developed distinct personalities that deliver genuinely good design at fair prices. The Modern Rarity line offers the kind of understated luxury basics that brands like Joseph charge twice as much for—beautifully cut silk shirts around £85, perfect wool trousers for about £110, and knitwear with subtle design details that elevate them beyond generic basics.
Then there’s their AND/OR range—a surprisingly credible collection of laid-back, slightly edgier pieces that wouldn’t look out of place in AllSaints but at significantly gentler prices. Their denim deserves special mention—well-cut, properly finished jeans in interesting washes that look like they should cost much more than their £45-75 price tags. I recently picked up a pair of their wide-leg jeans that have prompted more “where are those from?” questions than items costing four times as much.
What makes John Lewis particularly valuable isn’t just their own ranges but their curation of other brands. They’ve become adept at selecting the best pieces from mid-range labels like Whistles, Jigsaw, and Hush, often stocking them in locations where these brands don’t have standalone stores. For those outside major cities, this provides access to brands that would otherwise require online ordering and the dreaded returns dance.
Moving upmarket slightly, Fenwick remains one of British retail’s best-kept secrets. Their Newcastle flagship is legitimately excellent, while their smaller branches offer carefully edited collections that balance wearability with interest. Their buyers have a particular talent for finding those sweet-spot brands that sit between high street and designer—labels like American Vintage, Ganni, and Stine Goya that deliver distinctive style without requiring a second mortgage.
What’s particularly impressive about Fenwick is their commitment to stocking smaller, less obvious brands that you won’t find in every other department store. Their contemporary fashion departments feature labels like Baum und Pferdgarten, Lily & Lionel, and Essentiel Antwerp—brands with distinctive aesthetics that haven’t yet reached ubiquity. Their Bond Street store in particular deserves more fashion credit than it typically receives, offering genuinely interesting curation that rivals more hyped retailers.
House of Fraser, despite its well-documented struggles, still delivers in certain departments. Their lingerie and swimwear sections remain excellent, with broad size ranges and brands that balance practicality with design interest. Fantasie, Freya, and Wacoal sit alongside their own-brand offerings that provide surprising quality for the price point—their Linea swimwear in particular offers styles that look considerably more expensive than their typical £35-50 cost.
The beauty halls of British department stores deserve their own moment of appreciation. While Space NK and Sephora get the cool points, department store beauty counters offer services that these sleeker operations often don’t match. The staff typically have more extensive product knowledge (many having worked with specific brands for years), and the presence of multiple brands in one space allows for more objective advice than you’d get in single-brand shops.
Liberty occupies a special place in this landscape—not quite a conventional department store, but an evolutionary descendant of that tradition. Beyond the famous prints that bear its name, Liberty’s womenswear floors offer one of London’s most interesting edits of contemporary designers. Their buyers have an exceptional eye for brands just before they break big—they were early stockists of Ganni, Rixo, and Reformation before they became Instagram staples. Yes, the price points are higher than most department stores, but their sales are legendary for good reason, offering genuine bargains on pieces with staying power.
Harvey Nichols, meanwhile, has maintained relevance by focusing on a younger, more trend-conscious customer than some of its competitors. Their Leeds and Edinburgh stores in particular strike an impressive balance between designer aspirations and commercial reality, stocking accessible entry points to luxury brands alongside contemporary labels with more manageable prices. Their Fuse section offers particularly good shopping for those seeking something distinctive but not budget-breaking, with brands like Nanushka, Rejina Pyo’s more accessible pieces, and Rixo sitting between £150-350—not cheap, certainly, but offering genuine design value for investment pieces.
Department store fashion benefits enormously from being seen in person rather than online. The John Lewis website, while functional, doesn’t do justice to how their better pieces look and feel in reality. House of Fraser’s online presence similarly undersells their stronger offerings. These are retailers that reward physical visits—something that perhaps explains why they’ve struggled more in the digital-first shopping era.
The fitting room experience remains one of department stores’ strongest assets. The ability to try multiple brands, sizes and styles in one go, with helpful staff bringing alternatives without the need to get dressed again between shops, is genuinely valuable in an era of endless online returns. I recently spent a productive hour in Selfridges’ fitting rooms with a helpful assistant who brought progressively better options as she understood what I was looking for—a level of service that’s increasingly rare but makes such a difference to finding pieces that actually work.
What department stores offer that both fast fashion retailers and luxury boutiques often don’t is a genuine range of sizes and options. While Zara might stock that trending blazer only in sizes that assume no customer has breasts or hips, and designer boutiques might carry only the smallest sizes, department stores typically offer more inclusive sizing and often alternative fits within ranges. John Lewis’s AND/OR denim comes in multiple leg lengths; House of Fraser stocks brands like Phase Eight in their full size range rather than just the smaller end.
There’s also something to be said for the less pressured shopping environment department stores provide. Unlike specialist boutiques where browsing without buying can feel awkward, or high street stores where the crush of other shoppers creates a grab-and-go mentality, department stores allow for more considered, comfortable shopping experiences. The relative calm of Fenwick’s womenswear floors makes it possible to actually think about purchases rather than making panic buys.
Of course, department stores aren’t without their problems. Inconsistency between branches can be frustrating—that perfect range you found in the flagship might be absent from your local branch. Their online and physical experiences often feel disconnected rather than complementary. And some departments remain stubbornly dated in both stock and presentation.
But as British retail continues to evolve, our remaining department stores deserve recognition for what they get right: reliable quality at fair prices, helpful service from staff who often have genuine product knowledge, and the convenience of multiple brands under one roof. They may not generate the excitement of the latest direct-to-consumer brand launching on Instagram, but there’s something reassuringly solid about their presence on our high streets.
Next time you need something reliable, consider bypassing the online scroll of doom and rediscovering the joy of department store fashion. You might be pleasantly surprised by what you find—I certainly have been. And you’ll be supporting a great British retail tradition that, at its best, still offers something genuinely valuable to our wardrobes and high streets.
