Racing Green

A Baracuta G9 in racing green and the story behind the colour

When I think of British racing green, I straight away think of two things. The first one, and I don’t really know why, maybe because I think it’s one of the most beautiful designs to have ever existed, is the British racing green Jaguar E-Type. It’s such a synonymous shape with that late 60s design. It really belongs to that era, in the same way a Supermarine Spitfire belongs to the 1940s in British aviation. For me, the Jaguar E-Type is that. It’s quintessentially British. And racing green, I always think, yes you get red ones, but the racing green E-Type is the one for me.

The other, just as quintessentially British in a different way, is the Baracuta G9.

I’ll admit my Baracuta collection is getting pretty strong at this point. Some might say excessive, but to me every colour serves a purpose. The navy one, well, that’s just an obvious classic isn’t it? But I think once you own one, you end up going down a bit of a heritage menswear wormhole, experimenting with colour and different ways to wear them. Baracuta is one of those brands where you can find a million ways to play around with what’s already in your wardrobe.

To be honest, the Baracuta was one of the first things that properly got me into menswear. I’ll try not to dive too deep into this because it’s already been documented to death, but yes, I’m going to mention Steve McQueen. I’d be lying if I said I never looked at photos of him when I was younger and thought, that’s the coolest guy in the world. I want to dress like that.

But I think there’s an important difference between inspiration and imitation. You can try to dress like Steve McQueen all you want, but you’ll never actually be him. The real takeaway from the way he dressed was how effortless everything looked. Understated, clean, classic. Nothing screamed for attention, and because of that, none of it has really gone out of style. And right at the centre of that wardrobe was the Baracuta G9.

The racing green version might honestly be my favourite one yet. It’s the colour I’d always wanted, but only recently ended up getting, and it was worth the wait. It’s a genuinely stunning jacket.

But what I really started thinking about once it arrived was the colour itself. What actually is British racing green? And where did it come from?

British racing green is one of those colours that people instantly recognise, even if they don’t know the history behind it. It feels unmistakably British in the same way a wax jacket or a weathered Land Rover does. But the origins of it actually come from motorsport.

Back in the early 1900s, different countries competed in international racing using designated national colours. Italy had red, France had blue, Germany eventually became associated with silver, and Britain adopted green. The story goes that Britain chose green as a tribute to Ireland during the Gordon Bennett Cup, as the race was held there due to motor racing restrictions in Britain at the time. Over time, that deep green became inseparable from British performance cars and engineering.

And eventually, it stopped just meaning motorsport. It became shorthand for a certain type of British design. Something understated, elegant, traditional, but still sporty underneath it all. Which is probably why it works so naturally on something like a Baracuta G9.

I think racing green works especially well with denim. As much as I love the classic navy Baracuta, wearing navy against indigo denim can sometimes become a little too monochrome for me. Racing green solves that problem perfectly.

It’s not a million miles away from navy tonally, which is probably why it feels so wearable, but it has just enough contrast that you actually notice it. And importantly, it isn’t a loud green. It doesn’t feel flashy or overdesigned. It’s subtle, but still eye-catching in a way that makes people look twice.

Out of all the shades of green you could choose from, I’d argue British racing green is probably one of the most versatile. It keeps the same understated feeling you get from navy, but adds a bit more depth and character to an outfit without tipping too far into something overly casual.

And I think the heritage behind the colour only strengthens everything the world of Baracuta already represents. The G9 is already one of the strongest pieces of British menswear heritage there is. A jacket born in Manchester, worn across generations and subcultures, already carrying decades of history behind it. Pairing that with British racing green almost feels inevitable. Like the two were always supposed to exist together.

Yes, I already had a few G9s in my wardrobe, but I never had the racing green one. And the moment I took it out of the box, it almost hit me straight away. Oh wow. This is a beautiful piece.

There’s something genuinely special about that shade of green. It has a depth and sheen to it that photographs almost struggle to capture properly. It feels rich without being loud. Confident without trying too hard.

And maybe that’s why British racing green has survived for so long. It represents a quieter kind of confidence. Something understated, rooted in heritage and style rather than trends.

Which is probably why it works so perfectly on a Baracuta G9. A jacket already synonymous with British menswear heritage somehow feels even more complete in racing green. Almost like the colour strengthens everything the jacket already represents.