Jess Cartner-Morley on fashion: butter yellow is the colour to be seen in this summer

What’s up, buttercup? Yes, I’m talking to you in that delightful yellow you are wearing. Please tell me you are indeed wearing yellow? Because unless you have been hiding underneath a rock for the past two months, you can’t have failed to notice that butter yellow is the new black.

The “new black” narrative is one of fashion’s most familiar plotlines. Big explosions, dramatic music, and – bam – we all stop wearing the nice normal blue jeans and black jackets that we (a) like and (b) actually own, and start wearing a completely different colour instead. This is fundamentally a bit implausible on many levels. But then, so is the story of Cinderella, and that hasn’t stopped “rags to riches with a side order of fairy godmother” from being the plot of a million films.

My point is this: I don’t expect you to take the butter-yellow trend completely literally, but I do suggest you take it seriously. It is not necessary to wear it head to toe, but you would be wise not to laugh it off.

Butter yellow is the best “new black” we’ve had in years. If you are going to give a colour a headline slot in style, then it needs to own the stage. Butter yellow is ideal: this is not a colour that one tends to wear by accident.

It is a fashion statement that tells the world that you are up to date with pop culture. The backstory begins at Paris fashion week last year, where Chloé led a revival of sunshine-coloured bohemian holiday dressing. I remember two divine, long sunshine-yellow dresses on the catwalk, a slip and a tiered gown, both trimmed with ivory lace. I also remember an oversized yellow parka jacket that was giving that’s-what-I-want-to-wear-at-Glastonbury vibes all the way back in October.

Around the same time, the world became obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter’s hair – not only a creamy yellow, but curled in the elaborate licked whorls of a butter dish delivered with room-service breakfast in a fancy hotel. Fast forward to the 2025 Oscars, and Timothée Chalamet brought butter yellow to the red carpet. As the first public Givenchy moment by new creative director Sarah Burton, Chalamet’s butter yellow was colour as fashion moment. An intentional choice by one of fashion’s most beloved designers and one of its hottest celebrities. Obviously, he looked great, and butter yellow was thickly spread all over the high street pretty much by breakfast time the next day.

I know what you’re thinking: it doesn’t suit me. Nobody thinks they look their best in yellow. People will tell you it brings out the worst in their skin colour. Yellow is blamed for making blond hair look brassy. For making serious people look unserious. Frankly, no one has a good word to say for it. But while sharp, blue-tinged citrus yellow has an acidic harshness that feels unrelaxing to look at, warm butter yellow is softer, with a golden-hour mellowness to it.

If you are still concerned about how it reflects on your colouring, just add a pop of a different colour at the neckline. This could be a crewneck white T-shirt layered underneath your butter-yellow sweater, so that a ribbon of white dazzles at your throat like a string of pearls. (T-shirt not sitting high enough? Carefully snip the label out and wear it back to front.) Or it could be a navy sweater tied around your shoulders. And besides, as we said already, you can take the butter-yellow trend seriously without taking it literally. In other words, you don’t have to wear it as a dress or a suit. You could do a lemon-yellow shoe. A basket bag would be cute.

Anyway, the fact that it might not make you look good is exactly why butter yellow does make you look good. It makes you look bold and brave. It might not reflect well on your complexion, but it reflects well on your personality. Butter yellow is the colour of spring, of daffodils and speckly Mini Eggs. A butter-yellow shirt will be a brilliant beach cover-up this summer, but in the meantime you can wear it with jeans. It will look great! She says, buttering you up.

Model: Teesta at Milk. Styling assistant: Sam Deaman. Hair and makeup: Delilah Blakeney using Nars. Blazer, £249 and trousers, £149, both John Lewis. Top, £28, Asos