There’s something uniquely British about catching a celebrity in Tesco. Not at a film premiere, not at a fancy restaurant, but standing in the meal deal aisle debating between a chicken caesar wrap and a BLT like the rest of us mere mortals. It’s the great leveler—even the most famous, most glamorous people in the country still sometimes need to pop out for milk and loo roll at 9pm on a Tuesday. And when they do, what they wear offers a fascinating window into off-duty celebrity style that’s far more revealing than any carefully curated red carpet look.
My own celebrity-at-Tesco encounter happened three years ago at the Tesco Metro in Clapham. I was wearing what I consider my “nipping out” uniform—ancient Levi’s with a hole in one knee, a jumper that had shrunk slightly in the wash but wasn’t quite bad enough to donate, and slip-on trainers that had seen better days. As I was deliberating between two nearly identical bottles of reasonably priced Sauvignon Blanc, I spotted Olivia Colman by the cheese counter. The Olivia Colman. Oscar winner. National treasure. Queen of England (well, on Netflix). And she was wearing… almost exactly what I was wearing. Slightly better jeans, admittedly. But still—faded denim, a navy jumper with a tiny coffee stain on the sleeve (I noticed because it matched mine), and what looked like Superga trainers. Her only concession to being a globally recognized face was a baseball cap pulled down low, though even that looked like it had been grabbed from a hook by the door as an afterthought rather than a calculated disguise.
That moment crystallized something I’d been thinking about for a while: there’s a specific genre of celebrity style that only exists in Britain—the “just popping to the shops” look. It’s neither the elaborately casual ensembles American celebrities wear to be photographed buying kale at Whole Foods, nor the perennially chic minimalism French stars deploy for bakery runs. It’s something altogether more genuine, often slightly shambolic, and endearingly relatable. And as someone who’s spent far too much time analyzing celebrity style, I find it fascinating.
The quintessential British celeb-at-Tesco look seems to be largely guided by our unpredictable weather and a national reluctance to look like you’re trying too hard.
Unlike Los Angeles, where “running errands” is practically a photo opportunity, British celebrities at the supermarket often look like they’ve genuinely just thrown on whatever was closest to hand before heading out the door. There’s an appealing authenticity to it—a tacit acknowledgment that some tasks don’t warrant a full styling session.
Take Adele, for example. Before her transformation into global glamazon, she was frequently spotted at her local Tesco in West London wearing what can only be described as proper loungewear—not the Instagram-ready matching sets that constitute “athleisure,” but actual comfortable clothes. Oversized hoodies, loose joggers, a messy bun that looked like it had been slept on. In one particularly relatable set of paparazzi photos from 2012, she’s clutching a packet of Digestives and looking mildly irritated at being photographed in what appears to be her actual pajama top and a random pair of leggings.
Then there’s Daniel Craig, a man who can wear a Tom Ford suit like it was molded to his body, regularly photographed at his local Tesco Express in a combination of faded jeans, anonymous jumpers, and sometimes—in peak British off-duty style—a flat cap. The fascinating contrast between his James Bond persona and his “popping out for a pint of milk” reality makes these glimpses particularly compelling. There’s something rather reassuring about knowing that even 007 sometimes runs out of teabags and has to make an emergency supermarket trip like the rest of us.
British female actors seem to have a particular uniform for these low-key supermarket runs. Carey Mulligan has been photographed outside a Tesco in a classic combination of skinny jeans, Converse, an oversized coat, and what I can only describe as a “don’t talk to me” expression that is deeply relatable when you just want to buy ingredients for spag bol without being recognized. Emma Watson favors a similar look—practical trainers, jeans, an anonymous jumper, occasionally upgraded with a good quality coat that’s usually the only hint of her actual budget. Both opt for minimal makeup and the kind of messy bun that actually is messy, not the artfully arranged “messy bun” that takes 45 minutes and 17 bobby pins to achieve.
Male celebrities at British supermarkets tend to gravitate toward a sort of functional anonymity—the kind of outfits that, if they weren’t worn by someone famous, you wouldn’t look at twice. Tom Hardy, a man who can smolder in a period costume like nobody’s business, becomes practically invisible in his Tesco outfit of choice: nondescript joggers, plain t-shirts, baseball caps pulled low, and the kind of practical waterproof jacket that suggests he’s checked the weather forecast and come prepared. It’s a masterclass in being simultaneously a global sex symbol and a bloke who might live down your street.
What’s particularly interesting about these off-duty looks is how they contrast with the American celebrity approach to being photographed doing everyday tasks. In Los Angeles, “grocery store runs” are often suspiciously well-styled affairs, with perfectly arranged “casual” outfits that still manage to showcase designer items and current trends. The British celebrity Tesco dash feels more genuine—there’s a sense that the outfit really was chosen for practicality rather than potential paparazzi opportunities.
This authenticity extends to how British celebrities navigate the actual shopping experience. There’s a wonderful photograph of Helen Mirren—literal dame, iconic actor, red carpet regular—struggling with a self-checkout machine at Waitrose while wearing reading glasses on a chain and an expression of mild technological confusion that has united generations. Similarly, there are paparazzi shots of Idris Elba—regularly voted sexiest man alive, potential future James Bond, global DJ—looking slightly baffled in the spice aisle of Sainsbury’s, dressed in a combination of gym clothes and a winter coat that suggests he’d popped in directly after a workout when he realized he needed to make dinner.
The weather plays a significant role in shaping these celebrity supermarket looks. Unlike LA, where stars can rely on sunshine for their errands, British celebrities have to deal with the same meteorological lottery as the rest of us. This leads to some uniquely British styling choices—the layering, the always-present “just in case” jacket, the practical footwear that works as well in unexpected downpours as in brief sunshine. Kate Winslet has been photographed at her local Tesco in the kind of sensible raincoat that could have come from any middle-class mother’s wardrobe, paired with wellies when the weather demands it, looking not unlike she’s about to take the dog for a walk rather than being a multiple award-winning Hollywood star.
There’s also a noticeable difference in accessorizing between British and American off-duty celebrity style. While American stars might reduce the overt glamour for errands, they still often carry designer bags, wear statement sunglasses, or include some element that signals their status. British celebrities at Tesco seem more likely to be clutching the same reusable shopping bags as everyone else, with minimal jewelry, practical watches, and sunglasses that serve a weather purpose rather than a disguise function (given how rarely they’d be needed in British weather).
Younger British celebrities offer an interesting variation on the theme. Those who’ve grown up in the era of constant social media documentation seem slightly more conscious of their Tesco looks, though still within distinctly British parameters.
Tom Holland has been spotted at his local supermarket in what could be described as “elevated basics”—good quality plain items that wouldn’t look out of place in an upscale casual brand’s catalog, but still fundamentally simple. It’s the kind of outfit that wouldn’t draw attention if he weren’t famous but also wouldn’t embarrass him if photographed. Dua Lipa, before her transformation into global fashion plate, was photographed at a London Tesco in 2017 wearing an oversized hoodie as a dress with cycling shorts and chunky trainers—a look that was definitely fashion-forward but still had that thrown-together quality that characterizes British off-duty style.
What these celebrity Tesco outfits reveal, beyond individual style preferences, is something quite profound about British attitudes to fame and public appearance. There’s an unspoken agreement that everyone, no matter how famous, has a right to pop to the shops looking less than perfect. It’s almost a point of pride—a rejection of the idea that being in the public eye means performing 24/7. There’s an authenticity to it that feels particularly British, a tacit acknowledgment that some tasks are simply too mundane to warrant a full styling session.
This extends beyond what they wear to how they shop. Unlike the carefully curated baskets of American celebrities photographed at farmers’ markets (invariably containing kale, berries, and some photogenic artisanal bread), British celebrities seem to buy the same slightly random assortment as everyone else. There’s a wonderful set of paparazzi photos of Andrew Garfield at a Tesco Express with a basket containing White Bread, Crunchy Nut Cornflakes, and what appears to be a multipack of Walkers crisps—the kind of perfectly normal but nutritionally questionable selection that most of us have bought at some point.
My personal favorite celebrity Tesco sighting story comes from my friend Laura, who swears she once saw Judi Dench deliberating between two nearly identical bottles of fabric softener in the laundry aisle, dressed in what Laura described as “exactly what my nan would wear to the shops”—comfortable trousers, a fleece, and practical slip-on shoes. There’s something wonderfully grounding about the mental image of a Dame of the British Empire caring enough about fabric softener to compare options while dressed for comfort rather than style.
Of course, some British celebrities do make more of an effort for their supermarket runs, particularly those with strong connections to the fashion industry. Victoria Beckham is rarely seen looking anything less than immaculate, Tesco trip or not, though even she has been photographed in considerably more casual attire than her usual public appearances—trading her signature heels for (gasp) flat shoes and her structured dresses for simple jeans and tops. Still, her version of “casual” remains distinctly polished compared to most British celebrities’ off-duty look, perhaps reflecting her position as a fashion designer as much as her personal preferences.
Alexa Chung offers another variation on the theme. Her supermarket style maintains elements of her signature look—good denim, slightly retro touches, interesting proportions—but relaxed into something more appropriate for grabbing a pint of milk. It’s like a casual cover version of her usual style—recognizably her, but turned down several notches for practicality.
What I find most endearing about these celebrity Tesco looks is how they humanize people who can seem remote or untouchable in their professional appearances. There’s something deeply relatable about seeing someone who dazzles on screen or stage looking slightly harassed while trying to remember if they need to buy more pasta. It’s a reminder that beneath the glamour and the talent, there’s a person who sometimes runs out of toilet paper or suddenly needs baking ingredients at 8pm on a Sunday.
This glimpse into the authentic off-duty style of British celebrities also offers some genuinely useful fashion inspiration. Unlike their red carpet looks, which often involve designer pieces, stylists, and budgets beyond most people’s reach, these supermarket outfits are frequently made up of accessible items that most of us already own or could easily acquire. They demonstrate how basic pieces can be worn in a way that’s unfussy but still put-together, practical but not completely devoid of personal style.
If there’s a lesson to be taken from British celebrities’ Tesco style, it’s perhaps the value of having a reliable “nipping out” uniform—those grab-and-go pieces that require zero thought but still make you feel somewhat presentable. The comfort of knowing you have a decent pair of jeans, a good quality plain jumper, and reliable trainers that can be thrown on for impromptu errands without any deliberation is deeply underrated.
So the next time you find yourself rushing to Tesco in less-than-perfect attire, remember that somewhere in Britain, a Grammy winner, an Oscar recipient, or possibly even royalty is doing exactly the same thing. There’s something rather wonderful about that shared experience—the great British Tesco dash, uniting us all regardless of fame or fortune, dressed not for the public gaze but for the simple, mundane necessity of buying teabags and toilet roll before the shop closes.
