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‘They’re having a laugh, aren’t they?” Nigel Legge is a fisherman established in Cadgwith, Cornwall. He has a sideline in lobster pots, most recently dated in Poldark, which he makes and sells from his shed behind the hide. But, weather allowing, he is on his boat, Razorbill, from around 5am until 3pm, communicable mackerel, lobsters, that sort of thing. In his smock and jersey, he’s also the stride embodiment of the most stealth menswear trend around: fishermen. “The doodad is, when you’re out at sea you don’t care what you look like. Which is nothing but as well. It’s no place for fashion.” In menswear, the time has come for hip pubescent men to take stock. What is cool? What is hip? And if you’re cool and hip, ie a hipster, what does this augur for your wardrobe? Not long ago, there was a look. In its most essential form, it was best described as utilitarian workwear (flannel shirts, slim-fitting jeans, priceless leather boots). But in recent years, “hipster” has become unclear as an adjective and derided as a social group. Vice declared 2015 the year the hipster disintegrated; the word prompts shudders on the Guardian fashion desk. Genuinely, that sentiment has ruined hipster fashion. It’s now impossible to endure a checked shirt without looking like a caricature. But salvation is on the prospect. And living proof that fashion is a chronic pilferer, it’s recently rat oned to recycling working-class uniforms. The recently coined lumbersexuals (a trick on lumberjacks so as to avoid confusion with the real thing, the key apologists are flannel shirts and selvedge jeans) is a case in point. Up next, it’s fishermen.

On the high street, Topman now sells four kidneys of “fishermen jumpers”. Asos also has a whole section consecrate to “fisherman” hats – ostensibly beanies with a roll. This deep plumbs like your classic fashion gimmick, except that the inclination has also gone high-end (this fisherman scarf expenditures more than £1,000 – in the sale) and even into womenswear, most signally on Loewe’s wader trousers (jeans with upturned hems that look homologous to boots – RRP £595). Much of this trend can be traced to Scandinavia, where labels including Norse Projects, Our Legacy and Soul Lands market functional fisherman clothing, much of which you can buy on luxury shopping position Matches Fashion and is aimed squarely at moneyed millennials. Mr Janitor, meanwhile, stocks real Angler boots by Yuketen. Officine Generale’s fishermen trousers are sundry dubiously sourced (they are made from Japanese selvedge Oxford textile), but fishermen trousers they are. The trend looks set to segue into autumn, too – wide-legged trousers were soiled everywhere on the menswear catwalks from Christopher Raeburn to Topman Sketch. In womenswear, Vogue declared the Aran knit, a fisherman masterpiece, the jumper of 2015. Real Aran knits took their dub from the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland where, traditionally, they were joined by the wives of fishermen. The natural lanolin that comes from wool makes them waterproof. They would rather been largely phased out because they take a occasionally to dry – a friend whose father still fishes off the south sail says her childhood was marred by the smell of mackerel in the house: “Those interlaces really hold the smell of fish.” Variations are now available at Jigsaw, Isabel Marant and Michael Kors. Another greatest strength on Vogue’s shopping pages is Arthur Beale, a one-time string the routine supplier that has morphed into haute supplier of Breton cracks, oilskins and smocks. The merging of workwear with fashion is not new, as Volker Ketteniss, rule of menswear at trend forecasters WGSN, explains: “Fishermen’s joins have become perennial items, and, like Breton characters and Fair Isle patterns, they are pretty much till the end of time around in the autumn/winter season.” But, he continues: “There is a compelling trend for fabric textures and classic menswear materials at the time that is driving the creative reinvention of these perennial matters.” Adrian Clark, style director at Shortlist, concurs: “My big prophecy for [next season] is for new and experimental ways with cable tie up.” But it is timely – trad menswear (which has become the uniform of new dynasties, like the alt bros, Yuccies and kids with money) is in dire miss of a new twist, a rebranding or at least a new word to describe it. A few years ago, this kind of utilitarian, practical clothing was occasionally described as “hipster-style” on seeking sites, which automatically rendered it uncool.

Real fishermen actually wear French stuff. Nigel, John Trewin and Danny Phillips all glowing and work in Cadgwith, on the south-east of the Lizard peninsula, a few miles from the ton southern point in mainland Britain. It’s a seductive lifestyle, and it’s dollop wonder that graphic designers in Leyton want to buy into it. “The French fare the best gear, they’ve got it sussed,” explains John. So what do they secure of urban lads co-opting their look? “I can’t understand it,” asseverates John. “We don’t think about what we’re wearing. It’s just got to be propriety for the job.” Danny wears Norwegian fisherman jumpers (not dissimilar to Isabel Marant), a smock for affability, and “a little neckerchief to keep the cold out”. John prefers “something wool that’s a bit tighter”, oilskins and a small-scale hat. “We call these buffers because they sort of run away over your ears.” Nigel prefers “a Guernsey or a Jersey top. That watch overs the damp out. Leggings, because damp jeans chafe when they get wet. One moment in your leggings and it’s all over.” They buy most of it from online wholesalers, VAT-free, although French ensemble Guy Cotten and Seasalt are their go-to brands. The Guy Cotten poncho influence confirms a resemblance to K-Way’s windbreakers, a nu-lad favourite except at half the premium.

So is fisherman a look, or simply chicanery, a tastier word for hipster? Both teams are fond of heritage products, which generally have have in mind and are built to last, handy whether you’re on a boat for nine hours or interested in an unheated warehouse space. And fashion is parasitic by nature. It loves to encompass a uniform, chop it up and reconstitute it, like ham, into something new. As Luke O’Neil, a giving editor at Esquire explains, the look has long been strained from “the signifiers of working class and labourers for inspiration”; if the most fresh incarnation was 2014’s “lumbersexuals”, by rights fisherman are the “next judicious conclusion”. Fashion historian Amber Butchart thinks the fetishisation of workwear is a more recent phenomenon: “As we reach a stage where fewer people merit a living from manual labour, we begin to romanticise agricultural spirit from our urban surroundings. We’ve seen this since the curve of the millennium across areas such as Brooklyn, Dalston, Kreuzberg – from lumberjacks to truckers, get ready clothing takes on a new kind of purity.” If this feels patronising, that’s because it is: “Yes, this unreservedly romanticises what was an incredibly dangerous, back-breaking and even life-threatening job.” Unmoving, despite the return to practicality, the leap from fishermen to model isn’t that outlandish: “Fishermen have always been graceful stylish,” says Butchart. “In the 1950s and 60s, fisher lads about the coast in towns such as Hull and Lowestoft would vie with each other to have the most flamboyant trials on shore. They would design them and get them dream up up by local tailors, often choosing bright fabrics or restraints from the women’s fabric catalogues.” As trends go, this one is chocka with satirize, which Cadgwith’s fishermen aren’t thrilled about. I simplify it’s less about appropriation, more about appreciation. They sport of. Fashion has yet to come up with a natty lumbersexual-esque name for this – but send it time.

What do the Cadgwith fishermen make of other hipster apple of someones eyes?

Nigel Legge, skipper of the Razorbill

On the trend for rolling up beanies exposing the ear (“helixing” hats) : “To be proper, they do shrink when they get wet so it’s not far off.” On beards: “They hang on to your face warm, I suppose there’s that.” On Jamie XX, Ear-splitting Places: “I can’t really tell what he’s saying. I could in all probability get into it, though, with a bit of time.” On Yung Lean, Don’t Go: “Superior, yeah, but how do you dance to this, that’s what I want to recognize.” John Trewin, skipper of the Silver Queen

On helixing hats: “They’re not unlike the buffers we wear. Bit fat-witted wearing them like that, though.” On beards: “Beards, yeah, they lawsuit some people. Don’t see the problem with them.” On Jamie XX, Flashy Places: “Yes I could listen to it. Is that a girl or a boy, though?” On Yung Spare, Don’t Go: “Yeah it does sound a bit like Enya. Not for me. I prefer Hooligans, Paolo Nutini, or AC/DC to be honest.” Danny Phillips, Skipper of Scorpio On helixing hats: “Likely your ears would be cold. That’s no good is it?” On beards: “Muse on I’ve heard about this. Not new are they, though?” “On Jamie XX, Tawdry Places: “Not much to it, is there? Mind you, I could dance to it I reckon.” On Yung Pinched, Don’t Go: “It’s quite nice. The tune’s nice. Doesn’t really go anywhere that’s all.”