You might be a man interested in three-season scarves or someone thinking of buying one as a gift for a man. Perhaps you read my feature article on the return of men’s three-season scarves and found yourself wanting to know more. Or you might have walked into a luxury boutique and been confused or even overwhelmed by the options for men’s scarves. However you found your way here, I’d like to help.

In my previous article, I wrote:

I stand by that advice. As Fred Astaire said:

I don’t think Fred was saying one should dress quietly. I think he was saying that style works best when it belongs to the person wearing it. That’s great advice. And to apply it to three-season scarves, one must be aware of the possibilities—hence this article.

Why spend an entire article on one maison de grand luxe, especially when so many maisons—Brioni, Brunello Cucinelli, Loro Piana, Louis Vuitton, Zegna, and others—make men’s three-season scarves? Because no other luxury brand can match Hermès’ history and their range of options when it comes to the scarf as a luxury item, regardless of gender or season.

Scarf terminology can be confusing, especially from Hermès, so a visual diagram helps to understand the relationships between their types of three-season scarves:

Hermès has five different formats of three-season scarves aimed primarily at men. In descending order of overall fabric area:

Rectangle
Size varies, but typically 63×180 cm (25×71 in). US: $1,175 / EU: 1 040 €.

Carré (square) 100
Always 100×100 cm (39×39 in). US: $1,100–1,250 / EU: 965–1 100 €.

Losange
Size varies, but typically 77×202 cm (30×80 in). US: $730–950 / EU: 640–840 €.

Carré 80
Always 80×80 cm (32×32 in). US: $540 / EU: 475 €.

Carré 65 (sometimes called a bandana)
Always 65×65 cm (26×26 in). US: $530 / EU: 470 €.

The vast majority of Hermès’ three-season scarves for men are made of a silk-cashmere blend. It’s matte, not smooth or shiny like silk; it’s thin but not delicate; and it works in everything from the bright summer sun (keeping the sun off your neck) to brisk late fall or early spring weather (keeping the wind and cold out).

Hermès makes its three-season scarves using a traditional Lyonnais silk-screen process: the design is separated color by color, printed in successive layers under artisan supervision, then finished with hand-rolled or hand-fringed edges.

(Regardless of brand, most anything these days that’s not ready-to-wear is unisex, whether the maison portrays it as such or not. Wear what makes you happy.)

It’s worth noting that the luxury industry doesn’t make it easy to understand what’s going on when it comes to men’s scarves. It seems like every maison uses different terminology to describe them. If you want to go beyond Hermès, you might find it helpful to know some of that terminology, or at least refer to this later.

I promise I’m not trying to be difficult, but if it’s not obvious already, I use my own terminology that I hope is a bit clearer:

A three-season scarf is just that: it’s a lighter weight scarf in any format or size that should, in theory, be comfortable from the spring through the fall, at least in temperate climates. Among luxury brands, the most common materials are silk, cashmere, wool, and linen, often in blends.

If you live someplace especially warm, I’d point you to a summer scarf, typically very lightweight, made of cotton and/or linen, useful for keeping the sun off your neck, dust out of your mouth, and the like. Think of the bandannas worn by cowboys to this day:

A winter scarf is heavier and designed to keep you warm in cold temperatures. The most common materials are cashmere, wool, and silk.

Hermès’ selection of scarves—of all types, not just three-season—is constantly in flux as new designs are added and old designs are rotated out. Rather than point you to a specific scarf that might or might not be available at your boutique, or even in your country, whenever you might read this, I’ll instead just highlight some favorite designs of mine.

In thinking about a three-season scarf, whether for yourself or as a gift for someone you know, start with the format: how much fabric do you (or they) want to work with and manage, and what do you (or they) want to be able to do with it? The print is easier to figure out.

The Carré 65 is Hermès’ most approachable three-season scarf, both in terms of cost (it’s less than half the price of the Rectangle and the Carré 100) and in visual impact when worn. It’s also a bit of a contradiction. On the one hand, the Carré 65 is perhaps the most flexible when it comes to weather, since you can wear it in everything from summer heat to the cool of late fall and early spring, especially if used as a neck warmer peeking out from a high-collared coat. On the other hand, you have the least amount of fabric to work with, so the number of ways to wear it is limited.

The Carré 80 may be the most flexible square three-season scarf format: it’s large enough to drape, but small enough that it doesn’t need to visually dominate one’s outfit. Think of it under a blazer, or even as a substitute for a tie with a two-piece suit in less formal settings.

After saying not to wear a scarf because it looks good on anyone else, including Robert Pattinson, if you want to look like Robert Pattinson—well, sorry, I can’t help you there. But if you want to dress like him, but slightly more conventionally, I’d start with the Losange. It might be Hermès’ most interesting format because it’s their longest three-season scarf, so it drapes extremely well and can be tied into virtually any knot, but it doesn’t have the bulk of a Carré or Rectangle.

Make no mistake: the Carré 100, especially in a bright color, will take over your outfit. It works best in cooler temperatures—think shoulder seasons, long flights, and the like. As Hermès’ flagship three-season format, it’s often available in more designs and colors than any other. It might be the most obvious starting point for a man new to this world, not least because Hermès tends to display scarves in this format so prominently. But that doesn’t make it the right starting point for everyone.

The Rectangle might be the easiest format to understand for men who are new to three-season scarves, because it mimics the general proportions of most winter scarves. Folded lengthwise in half or thirds, it behaves pretty much like a winter scarf, so it can be tied the way many men already tie their winter scarves—including in the Parisian knot, my vote for the most elegant winter scarf knot. The downsides? It’s a lot of fabric to manage. And it’s often Hermès most expensive three-season scarf.

If you’re buying the first Hermès three-season scarf for yourself or for a (fortunate) friend or loved one, I’ll reiterate my strongest advice: start with the format, not the print.

For a cautious first step, I’d start with the Carré 65. It’s the least expensive, the easiest to wear, and the least likely to make you feel as if your scarf has arrived in the room before you have. It’s a small gesture, not a statement.

For the best all-around square, I’d consider the Carré 80. It provides enough fabric to feel intentional without requiring the confidence of the Carré 100. If the Carré 65 is the easiest entry, the Carré 80 might be the most pragmatic choice.

For the elegance of a scarf without the heft of a square, the Losange might be the best answer. It drapes well, ties easily, and avoids some of the bulk and self-consciousness that can come with the Carré 100. If you’re drawn to the idea of a men’s scarf but nervous about looking costumed, this is where I’d look first.

The Carré 100 is the flagship, but I don’t think it should be the default. It’s often spectacular—I mean, Hermès is good at what they do—but it can also dominate an outfit. That’s not a flaw; it’s the point. But it means the Carré 100 works best for a man who already knows he wants the scarf to be a visible part of his style.

For the comfort of a familiar format, the Rectangle is the obvious choice. It’s easy to understand and easy to tie. But it’s also a lot of fabric, and often the most expensive option. I’d recommend it for someone who wears winter scarves regularly and wants a lighter, more luxurious version of something he already understands.

And that brings us back to the tenet of the men’s scarf: wear the scarf you can carry.

Hermès offers the range. Your job isn’t to choose the most beautiful scarf in the case; it’s to choose the scarf that will still feel like you after you walk out of the boutique.

Do you wear three-season scarves, or do they still feel too conspicuous, difficult, or impractical?

If you were buying a first three-season scarf for yourself, which format would you choose?