I first discovered Bill Nighy through his role as the slightly sleazy, washed-up pop star in the British Christmas classic, Love Actually. I was definitely too young to get the jokes at the time, but since that first viewing, I’ve seen it so many times I can recite the entire script—a party trick that’s more impressive to me than to anyone else. While my list of comfort films has expanded over the years, Nighy has always been a fixture. Whether I’m sobbing through About Time or rewatching Emma and Chalet Girl for the umpteenth time, his signature blend of British reserve and subtle style is a constant presence.

Apart from his acting career, Nighy is known for his straightforward take on life and for being a familiar face in London’s cafes. His interest in fashion also led to a collaboration with the heritage knitwear brand John Smedley. Though he’s been wearing their clothes for over fifty years, he’s only recently moved from loyal customer to creative partner, helping design a collection of 1940s-inspired twinsets and long johns, alongside their classic merino and cashmere pieces.

The collection features subtle doodles and a “Stay Modern” theme woven into the designs. Nighy hopes he “hasn’t done anything to upset the regular customers,” noting that “John Smedley fans are very loyal, but I’ve been known to take risks.” For those craving more of his witty insights, he’s just launched a podcast called Ill-Advised by Bill Nighy, where listeners can call in for advice on any topic, no matter how small. Ahead of the launch, Vogue chatted with Nighy about his mod roots, what makes a good pair of trousers, and why going sockless is never okay.

Photo: Charlie Gray

Vogue: What was your first experience with John Smedley?
Bill Nighy: When I was young, I wanted to be a mod—but my hair wasn’t cooperating, which held me back a bit. A key item back then was the John Smedley three-button leisure polo. They were pricey, so I’d save up for them—I had a jar on my shelf where I’d stash money each week for a new color. Irrational as it sounds, part of me thinks I pioneered wearing a John Smedley polo under a jacket.

Vogue: How did you find collaborating on the collection?
Bill Nighy: When John Smedley reached out, I thought it was an April Fool’s joke. It felt like a perfect full-circle moment—the brand has been part of my life since I was a teen. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t just a figurehead, so I told my agent to suggest shortening the men’s cardigan by four inches, mostly to get their attention. I’ve always thought cardigans were too long—you end up folding them or fussing with the hem.

Then there are the birds. I’ve always doodled birds on my scripts when I should be learning lines—it’s my way of sneaking a break. They asked if I doodled anything, and I sent them my favorites. They’re now named Peter and George, and they’re subtly placed on the back of some pieces. It’s not a logo, just a quiet “hello.” I hope people find it stylish, not strange.

Photo: Charlie Gray

Vogue: Is there anything from your wardrobe you’d love to bring back or banish forever?
Bill Nighy: Years ago, I splurged on a dark-blue double-breasted Giorgio Armani suit. I wore it until it fell apart and adored it. I’d bring that back, though I might need to narrow the shoulders to fit through today’s doors.

As for banishing, I’d get rid of those shiny black leggings—the rock chic kind that look like PVC but aren’t. And shorts. I haven’t worn shorts since I was a kid, and I don’t see any reason to start now.Knees are a private matter. I have no desire to impose mine on the world.

Speaking of trousers, you mentioned you’re quite particular about them.

Yes, I love trousers—generous ones that swing and flow, not the kind that cling. When I do period films, I’m always relieved if the story is set after 1814 so I can avoid wearing breeches. I’ve managed to steer clear of knickerbockers throughout my entire career.

Are there any historic trousers you’d like to wear, either metaphorically or in reality?

Metaphorically, I’d love to wear the trousers of David Niven. The man had impeccable style and exquisite manners. Physically, I’d choose the high-waisted, pleated trousers from the 1940s—wide, elegant, and practical. No one has improved on them since.

Does your approach to getting dressed change from day to day?

No, I’m quite consistent. The only real decision is whether to wear a suit or not. I remember reading how Andy Warhol would go to Bloomingdale’s every year and buy a hundred pairs of identical white Y-fronts. He’d look at all the colorful options but always ended up with the same ones. I was impressed—both by his commitment and the fact he could afford a hundred pairs. When I was young, my friend John had seven suits—one for each day of the week—and I vowed that if I ever made money, I’d do the same. Eventually, I did.

The photographer Angela Hill does that: she buys seven outfits a season, one for each day of the week.

That’s an excellent idea. I admire that kind of discipline.

Let’s talk about your podcast. It’s about advice—giving it, receiving it, and bad advice. How do you feel about dispensing wisdom?

The idea is that I don’t have the answers—I’m just talking. I try not to sound profound; it’s bad manners to pretend to be wise. I mostly answer trivial questions—about socks, plants, things like that. Someone once asked if it’s ever acceptable to go out without socks. Obviously, the answer is no. I’m amazed anyone has to ask.

What about flip-flops?

Flip-flops are fine—they’re honest. But shoes without socks? I just don’t trust you.

What’s the worst piece of advice you’ve ever received?

People don’t give me much advice anymore. That’s the downside of getting older: people start asking you for advice. When they ask me for “advice for the young,” I always say: don’t take drugs and pay your taxes. It sounds flippant, but it’s solid. Advice is a risky business. I wish someone had told me that clearly when I was younger.

The Bill Nighy X John Smedley collection is exclusively available to pre-order at John Smedley stores and www.johnsmedley.com.

Ill-Advised by Bill Nighy is available to listen now.

Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about Bill Nighy on the specified topics with clear and concise answers

Bill Nighy on Trousers Advice Knitwear

BeginnerLevel Questions

1 Why does Bill Nighy think good trousers are so important
He believes a great pair of trousers is the foundation of a sharp confident look and can make you feel instantly puttogether

2 What does he mean by awful advice
Hes referring to the common often unsolicited career and life advice people give that is usually generic unhelpful and doesnt apply to your unique situation

3 What kind of knitwear does Bill Nighy like
He has a wellknown passion for highquality comfortable knitwear particularly cashmere sweaters and cardigans

4 Has he ever given any specific style tips
Yes his main style philosophy revolves around simplicity quality and comfort favoring welltailored classics over trendy pieces

Advanced Practical Questions

5 What makes a pair of trousers good in his view
Its all about the fit and fabric They should be perfectly tailorednot too tight not too bagyand made from a highquality material that drapes well and lasts

6 Can you give an example of the awful advice hes received
A classic example is being told to have a backup plan or to be more practical about an acting career which he sees as discouraging passion and ambition

7 Whats the benefit of ignoring awful advice according to him
It allows you to trust your own instincts follow your genuine passions and build a career and life that is authentically yours rather than one designed by committee

8 How does he incorporate his love for knitwear into his style
He often uses a fine knit sweater as a versatile layer pairing it with his signature wellcut trousers and a shirt for a look that is both sophisticated and relaxed

9 Whats a common mistake people make with trousers that he would likely advise against
Wearing trousers that are the wrong length or fit poorly around the waist and seat He would emphasize the transformative power of a good tailor