The capsule wardrobe was invented for climates with the decency to commit. A British summer, by contrast, can open with drizzle, peak at 28 degrees, and close with a wind that means business, all before dinner. Dressing for it is not minimalism; it is logistics.

The answer is not more clothes. It is a small set of pieces that layer in every direction.

The formula

Build around roughly twenty pieces. Start with a base of breathable neutrals: two pairs of trousers, one light and one smart, a pair of decent shorts, two skirts or a dress you can walk in, and five or six tops spanning vest to long sleeve. Natural fibres, linen, cotton and lightweight merino, handle the temperature swings far better than anything clingy and synthetic.

Then the layer that does all the real work: one light rain jacket you actually like, one cardigan or overshirt, and one smarter blazer. Every outfit should survive the addition or subtraction of these three items, because subtraction and addition is the entire day.

Colour discipline

Pick a base of two neutrals, then one or two accents, and stop. This is what makes a small wardrobe feel large: when everything coordinates, twenty pieces yield well over a hundred outfits, and packing for a weekend takes four minutes.

The one-in rule: nothing new comes in unless it works with at least three things you already own. This single rule quietly ends most bad purchases.

Footwear: trainers you can walk miles in, one sandal, one shoe that copes with rain and restaurants alike. Anyone who has attempted a beer garden in suede knows why.

The result is not a boring wardrobe. It is a wardrobe with no bad options, which on a morning of horizontal rain and a 3pm heatwave forecast is the only luxury that counts.