The Sloane Rangers are back in fashion, on big and small screens, social media, and the streets of London’s Chelsea. The British old money look that made headlines following the publication of “The Official Sloane Ranger Handbook” in 1982, with the young Princess Diana as its high priestess, has influenced a new generation of image-makers who are celebrating the privately educated, polo-playing, Champagne-anytime set.

Season Two of “Rivals,” the Disney+ series set in the 1980s, based on Jilly Cooper’s steamy novels about posh people in London and the Cotswolds, was released earlier this month. Guy Ritchie’s “The Gentlemen,” which tells the story of a dashing young duke who gets mixed up with a very un-Sloaney criminal gang, will kick off its second season later this year.

The Netflix show, a spin-off of Ritchie’s 2019 film of the same name, unfurls in a stately home that rivals the one in Emerald Fennell’s 2023 film “Saltburn.” Fennell has deep Sloane roots as the daughter of Theo Fennell, jeweler to the posh denizens of West London whose designs have been worn by Sloanes — or wannabes — for decades.

The Kensington Hideaway, a boutique hotel a few minutes’ walk from Kensington Palace, is also having a Sloane moment, offering cocktails such as The Sloane Ranger Spritz, Chelsea Crafted and Trust Fund Mule.

The Berkeley in Belgravia is mixing drinks inspired by society names in the neighborhood. There’s the Anya Sgroppino, named for Anya Hindmarch, whose brand has been granted a Royal Warrant from Queen Camilla; the Double-O, inspired by Ian Fleming’s Belgravia home, and Parvin Pearls, named for Stewart Parvin, the couturier who regularly dressed Queen Elizabeth II, and other members of the royal family.

Sloane style has bounced back, too, and the look has a whisper of the old days. Penelope Chilvers‘ breezy, boho dresses nod to 1980s Laura Ashley, as do the broderie anglaise blouses and lambswool knits from Skye by Brora. Waxed Barbour jackets and Burberry trenches fit for the blustery British outdoors have never gone out of style.

The Sloane look is also stepping back onto the catwalk. Kent & Curwen’s fall 2026 collection, which showed at Westminster School in London in April, was an ode to the posh English collegiate look, full of tennis and cricket sweaters, tweed jackets, and knitwear that sparkled with brooches resembling military regalia. Rule Britannia!

“It’s a bit of nostalgia for the old days when we really ruled the world, and I’m as happy as anyone to indulge it,” says Peter York, who cowrote the original Sloane Ranger Handbook with Ann Barr, former deputy editor of Harpers & Queen.

York added that given the tough times Britain is going through, he isn’t surprised a new generation is looking to the past, and to their parents’ and grandparents’ seemingly charmed lives.

No one is embracing this moment more than Archie Scott Brown, founder of CLJ, or Chelsea Life Jacket, a social media brand powered by nostalgia for the Sloane Ranger era, its people and customs. CLJ makes bright, stripey oversize knits, rugby polos with gold crests and T-shirts with inside jokes, all of which are popular with the original Sloanes’ children, and sometimes grandchildren.

Scott Brown’s videos, which draw inspiration from the slick visuals and dark comedy of “Rivals,” “The Gentlemen” and “Saltburn,” feature his gang of friends and models yukking it up in London, mainly in Chelsea and Pimlico, but also at private estates in the Devon countryside, and Saint-Tropez.

The set’s new London hangouts include basement club The Rex Rooms, formerly 151, on the King’s Road, London’s Sloane highway. The old club was beloved of young royals (Princes William and Harry used to go when they were young, and still speaking) as well as musicians ranging from Mick Jagger and Central Cee to Machine Gun Kelly and Post Malone.

The new iteration of the tiny club has a jungle-meets-the-shires feel with palm trees, vines and dangling wisteria and serves electric bright cocktails like frozen hibiscus margaritas. One of CLJ’s T-shirts references the old 151 and says “I’d rather be in Rex Rooms,” written in the brand’s signature naif scrawl.

Other haunts include the Duke on the Green pub in Fulham, southwest London (not far from The White Horse, a pub still known as the Sloaney Pony), The Cooper’s Arms in Chelsea and Paloma, formerly Boujis, another hangout for young royals and celebrities in the early 2000s.

The 24-year-old Scott Brown, a serial entrepreneur and one of Sloane bible Tatler’s most eligible bachelors in 2025, launched CLJ five years ago with the idea of showcasing a long-ignored slice of British culture and seeing how many views he could generate on TikTok.

“The King’s Road is iconically British, and there’s nowhere in the world quite like it. Until now, what brands were even leaning into this neighborhood?” he asks over a pint in Sloane Square.

“All of them are trying to do edgy East London, but who’s leaning into the culture of Chelsea and the Sloane Ranger? That’s why I wanted to recreate the vibe,” adds Scott Brown, who’s wearing a jaunty periwinkle sweater, white jeans, brown snaffle loafers and signet ring (of course).

Post-shoot, he’s carrying the stripey sweaters in a weathered Louis Vuitton Keepall that looks as if it’s seen many a country house party.

He’s also bringing the classic Sloane aesthetics up to date, drawing on a wider range of inspirations, including Matthew Vaughn’s recent TV series “Layer Cake,” and musicians ranging from rappers to Dua Lipa.

“Music artists and rappers have some of the biggest and most engaged audiences on social media. I’m always looking at what’s going on with the music world, what the artists are wearing right now — and it’s not suits and ties. It’s colors, it’s fun, it’s loose — they’re not too serious. They’re juxtaposing things — which leads to topical conversations,” he says.

Gone are the days of Sloaney red trousers and the gilet, a countryside staple that became briefly fashionable among the finance bros in London, post-lockdown. Those gilets were known as Chelsea life jackets, but Scott Brown believes they’ve had their day. “Not cool anymore, in my opinion,” he says.

Instead, the sweaters, rugby polos and T-shirts take center stage in more videos he plans to film this summer. Scott Brown is returning to the Hurlingham Club for the Polo in the Park in June, and is hoping to film friends and models in Ibiza later this summer.

Lottie Cecil, a makeup artist who writes for Tatler, says there’s a lot of mystery around the CLJ brand. “At first, I didn’t even know it was a clothing brand. I was looking at the Instagram reels thinking, ‘This is cool — but what’s going on here?’” she says, adding that Scott Brown has a knack of being able to look at the old money life through the lens of different decades.

HIs films conjure “different eras and worlds,” but they’re all distinctively Chelsea Life Jacket, adds Cecil, one of many friends, models and creatives who take part in part in the CLJ videos and adore Scott Brown for his kindness, sense of humor and razor-sharp take on popular culture.

While the future might be Sloane in spirit, it won’t necessarily be so in style and the striped sweaters and rugby polos could one day be a thing of the past. “I always want CLJ to be creative, but in the future it could be something bigger, maybe even a production company,” says Scott Brown.

While York finds the Sloane revival amusing, he doesn’t think it will last. Sloane culture, he argues, was already in decline in the late 1980s after London became an international financial capital, and new wealth started flowing in.

Many of those Sloane bankers, lawyers and Sotheby’s and Christie’s executives who had the same accent, went to the same schools, belonged to the same private clubs, vacationed in the same places and who were accustomed to dashing to the country for shooting weekends, found themselves in a globalized London — and were forced to adapt.

“If you were a Sloane who worked in the City of London and your employer was American, Japanese, or German, they would not have given a fig for how you pronounced something, or what you were good at. They would have wanted a financial return — only that would have mattered,” York says.

So the Sloanes started being a bit more careful. “They’d say ‘toilet’ instead of ‘loo,’ and all these little subtleties were changed. When they were at work they had to be a bit cool, modern and internationalized,” says York, who’s also moved on from his days of studying Sloane behavior.

Today he writes mainly about politics and media and has a podcast called “Peter York’s Culture Wars House Party.”

In Britain, things have gotten progressively worse for the Sloanes, and the middle classes generally. The Labour government has whacked levies on private schools, introduced mansion taxes and is attempting to redistribute the nation’s wealth at a pace that would make Vladimir Lenin weep with joy.

It’s no wonder that York sees this recent Sloane revival as a yearning and a feeling of “nostalgia and loss” among middle class Britons.

“It’s not quite the same as in ‘MAGA land,’ but there is this feeling of loss, that things were better in the past. You always find it in societies with real problems — and we’ve got real problems,” he says.

Those problems — social, political, financial — aren’t going to get better anytime soon, but how comforting to know there will always be a stripey sweater, a glass (or three) of Champagne or lungfuls of fresh air from Devon or Saint-Tropez to ease the pain.