Dressing Gown - A return to more civilised times?

As any fashionable young blade will tell you, dressing-gowns are making a comeback. Mark Palmer needs no converting

Dressing-gowns mean dressing down, don't they? Not at all, actually - quite the opposite. These wonderfully idiosyncratic garments that nod quietly in the direction of gentler, more civilised times - and have a distinctive whiff of Britishness about them - can be as smart as you like.

Indeed, I am writing this at 7am on a Sunday morning while wearing a full-length pink and white-striped woven silk creation from Emma Willis, the Jermyn Street shirt-makers, and it feels extravagant, luxurious and just a touch decadent.

This evening, after a hot bath and with hopes of an early night, I will appear in the kitchen for supper in a reversible dressing-gown jacket - cashmere on one side and silk on the other - by Mariano Rubinacci, the Italian designer based in London and Naples. It's, so is. It reminds me of a velvet smoking-jacket and certainly would not look out of place at a smart dinner party. But, then, I've always been a huge dressing-gown fan.

My mother ran a tight sartorial ship when my brother and I were growing up: there were strict rules about what to wear at any given time and general decorum was afforded a high priority. When, on occasion, she said, "You may come down in your dressing-gowns", something lifted in our spirits because it meant the rulebook had been abandoned temporarily. Coming down in our dressing-gowns meant hot chocolate in the kitchen or watching television in front of the fire way beyond bedtime.

Today, sales of dressing-gowns are on the rise, but no one seems entirely sure why. They were popular in the 1950s and 1960s when most homes did not have central heating but, over the past few decades, they've appeared to be surplus to requirements. Not any more. Today, Marks & Spencer stocks nine different styles, ranging in price from £12 to £45, and reports a mini surge in sales, particularly of its "fluffy fleece" line. There has been a trend away from towelling dressing-gowns, a spokesman says, and now the company has launched a "quick-dry robe" to get you from the bathroom to the bedroom, or anywhere in between. It apparently diffuses water in such a way that it feels dry to the touch and doesn't stick to the skin.

"Dressing-gowns are a much-overlooked accessory that can make a man look fabulous," says Emma Willis. "When I think of my dressing-gowns, I imagine a man having breakfast on a balcony somewhere hot, with views of the sea. They represent time out."

Emma says that a certain type of younger man - the metrosexual, perhaps - has begun to see the point of dressing-gowns, now that pyjama bottoms, or boxer shorts and a T-shirt, have become their bedtime fashion of choice. Throw on a dressing-gown in the morning and you are presentable without having to get dressed.

Oscar Humphries, the 25-year-old son of Barry Humphries and man about town, recently bought two dressing-gowns - an Italian Oxford silk for £500 and an Italian linen and cotton design for £320. Indeed, he is something of a connoisseur.

"Dressing-gowns are the Ferrari of clothes," says Oscar, who runs a PR company and lives in London. "They're slightly unnecessary, but essential at the same time. I wouldn't say they are sexy - and certainly not the equivalent of a woman's negligée - but they're elegant and stylish. A dressing-gown draws a clear line between work and play. They are the antithesis of a nine-to-five uniform."

Although educated at Stowe, Oscar is Australian - and not altogether proud of his antipodean roots. He thinks a dressing-gown makes him more English. This, I suggest, might be because he's watched My Fair Lady too many times - particularly the scene where Rex Harrison is flicking through books in his library wearing a long, silk dressing-gown. He may also have been impressed by Daniel Craig in his 007 dressing-gown in Casino Royale.

"Being an Australian makes me feel a bit naff, so I want to be associated with anything that makes me more English," he says. "A dressing-gown serves this purpose perfectly. But there is also a practical point to them. You can keep things in the pockets: sleeping pills, contraceptives, a pencil, a panic button." Er, quite.

There are, of course, questions of etiquette concerning dressing-gowns. Is it acceptable to greet people at the door in one? Should you impose a cut-off time during the day?

Oscar says he wouldn't greet anyone at the door in his gown if he knew them socially, but would accept a letter from the postman. He also advises against wearing one for long on a weekday because, before you know it, it will be teatime.

He never packs one when he goes away because, he says, "it's like a piece of furniture and it belongs at home". But Emma Willis believes a dressing-gown comes into its own when staying in someone else's house, especially if there is no en-suite bathroom.

"Dressing-gowns simply cover you up - and that's no bad thing when you are a guest," she says. "There's something sad about a grown-up man going down to the kitchen at night for a glass of water wearing only boxer shorts."

For designer Mariano Rubinacci, it is the quality of the dressing-gown that makes it an indispensable item.

"Every man should have at least one - and I would advise one for winter and one for summer," he says. "There is nothing better than coming in after work, removing your jacket and putting on a dressing-gown over your shirt and tie. Dressing-gowns are incredibly comfortable, but also very dignified. And once you have got into the habit of wearing one it's very difficult to stop."