Six simple tricks for staying warm in winter I learned living in Denmark
In Britain, we do many things well: queuing, apologising, sandwiches. But winter? Winter exposes us. Our national strategy – largely comprised of denial, “fun” jumpers and turning the heating up – doesn’t work. More than a decade spent living in Scandinavia taught me another way. A calmer way. A warmer, better-lit way. And while we may not have fjords, district heating or mandatory woollen underwear in the UK, we can absolutely borrow from Nordic winter competence. I returned here from Denmark last year – with new perspectives on how to stay warm and dry in cold weather. Here are my six essential ways to stop suffering this winter.
Stop pretending winter is a surprise
In the UK, we treat ice as a once-in-a-generation meteorological shock. We don’t buy winter coats until we’re experiencing hypothermia and our national snow-readiness plan consists of “hoping it melts”. In Scandinavia, winter prep begins in October. People don’t wait for the first icy morning to panic-buy novelty hot water bottles shaped like sloths. They get ahead of it, like sharpening pencils for the new school term, with an unspoken pre-winter checklist. Living in Denmark for 12 years, I knew I would need: winter tyres, salt, insulated waterproof gloves that fit (not those floppy magic ones sold in petrol stations), a torch with working batteries and an ice scraper that wasn’t a loyalty card. We may not need winter tyres in much of the UK – yet – but decent gloves are non-negotiable. As a Raynaud’s sufferer, I wear wrist warmers at all times from November (Turtle Doves - their Cashmere wrist warmers pictured - have products that are currently 40 per cent off) and favour a mitten or ski glove (Uniqlo or Decathlon have you sorted here). The Nordic approach isn’t overly dramatic or doomsday-ish. It’s practical. Sensible. Routine, even. Winter is simply… coming. As it does every year. Like taxes. Or Strictly. A Scandinavian-style checklist is the winter-proofing equivalent of brushing your teeth: mundane but necessary and undeniably effective.
Don't dress like a Dickensian street urchin
I say this with love: Brits do not dress for winter. In this country, we dress for vibes – with thin coats, acrylic scarves and trainers that absorb water on contact. Nordics, however, treat winter clothing as a non-negotiable system. When things get really cold, many Danes wear padded onesies (like Maggie from The Simpsons). But – and I’ll save you the trouble of wondering – these don’t fly in the UK. I’ve tried wearing mine and got some very strange looks. Fortunately, there’s a Holy Trinity of warmth we can all adopt. Smart Scandinavians start with a base layer (wool or a technical fabric), then add an insulating mid-layer (wool again or fleece), followed by with a windproof, waterproof, bum-covering outer shell. The bum bit is crucial; if it doesn’t cover your backside, it’s not a winter coat – it’s an expensive mistake. Footwear is never an afterthought in the Nordics. Danish friends got me into wool socks (I swear by Smartwool - their Maximum Cushion Socks pictured) and waterproof boots with grippy soles that look as though you could confidently tackle a minor expedition. Most days, I find Blundstones work. For temperatures below five degrees, I’ll switch to a pair of Sorel boots, invested in some years ago (and I haven’t had numb toes since). “But wait,” I hear you say, “I have a sensible job. I can’t go the office dressed as Sir Ranulph Fiennes.” Fear not grasshopper: can you fit a thermal vest underneath your smart work lewk? Excellent. Can you pop on a wool sock? Brill. Pick up a coat with some technical fabric wizardry (Uniqlo offer some reasonable options) and you’re away. The beauty of Scandinavian winter dressing is that once you’ve layered properly, you can stay outside as long as you need to – without moaning, shivering, or contracting pneumonia. Dressing children this way means they can play outside for hours. Making them far less likely to get cabin fever and destroy the house/their bedrooms/each other. I’m not suggesting Brits become a nation of high-performance Arctic adventurers. But a few breathable layers and a coat designed for actual weather? Life-changing.
Don’t oscillate between hot and cold
Scandinavian homes benefit from something we don’t have here (sadly): district heating. Giant underground pipes circulate heat from a central plant to entire neighbourhoods, creating gloriously even warmth. Many more modern homes also have underfloor heating. But there is still a lesson here for the UK: consistency beats chaos. While many in the UK crank the thermostat to 24 degrees for an hour, then panic and switch everything off until the inside temperature resembles a crypt, Scandinavians keep things steady. No indoor temperatures that fluctuate between “I can see my breath” and “Mediterranean villa”. Just a comfortable temperature all year round. We can mimic this in the UK by choosing a reasonable thermostat setting and sticking to it (19°C round our house – friends go warmer, but my husband’s from Yorkshire…) whenever anyone’s home. Upping the tog count for warmer bedding helps too. And for the love of Odin, buy decent slippers. Scandinavia is a shoes-off-indoors culture and everyone – from toddlers to grandparents – owns proper slippers. Warm, supportive slippers with arch support that will make your feet weep with relief. If you take nothing else from this article, try slippers (Birkenstock or FitFlop - their Shearling Suede Slippers pictured - are excellent UK options). Your feet – and possibly your back – will thank me within 48 hours.
Light well, live better – and yes, candles count as therapy
There is nothing guaranteed to chill to the core like walking into a living room that resembles an operating theatre. Scandinavian homes, by contrast, glow – with lamps everywhere and warm-toned bulbs (not the blue-white ones that could double as floodlights). To make a space feel like home rather than an interrogation chamber, you need lamps. Plural. A lamp for every corner, nook and mood. Candles are lit as standard in Denmark, and Vikings learn from an early age how not to set fire to themselves. The optimum number of candles varies by taste, but somewhere between “moody Scandinavian novelist” and “full séance” should do it. Soft light is essential to psychological survival in the Nordics – not an optional design flourish. So reframe “mood lighting” as “convincing your brain that everything isn’t terrible”. Switching just one bulb can make you 15 per cent happier (probably). Adding three lamps is practically a personality makeover. (Photo: Getty)
Ventilate and get out more
This is the part where the British gasp: Scandinavians open their windows in winter. On purpose. Daily. It’s called shock ventilation – known as sjokklufting in Norway and vädra in Sweden. It involves throwing the windows wide for five minutes a day, letting the cold blast sweep through, then close everything up again. Yes, it’s a faff (depending on how many windows you have…) but opening at least every bedroom window daily in winter blasts away the cobwebs beautifully. The house resets. The mould retreats. And the air stops smelling like old socks (I have three children and a dog: this is an ongoing concern). Shock ventilation (also popular in Germany as Stoßlüften) doesn’t make the house cold; it makes it fresh. It also helps with concentration, sleep and the general sanity of everyone trapped indoors all winter. And another lesson the Nordics swear by is friluftsliv or “free air life”. Getting outside daily, even for 10 minutes, even when the weather’s grim, has been proven to make us happier and healthier. So get out more this winter. Face the weak daylight and soak up what little vitamin D the sky is prepared to offer. Scandinavians don’t wait for “good weather” to go outside (if they did, they’d be waiting until April). They dress the part, then get out anyway. (Photo: Christopher Hopefitch/Getty)
Accept that winter is a season, not an obstacle course
Winter shouldn’t be something to endure: a long damp tunnel between autumn and hope. Winter should be (*whispers it*) enjoyed. Whenever possible. In Scandinavia, winter is for thriving, not merely surviving. It’s a season with its own rhythms and rituals: short walks outside even in awful weather (head torches on, dignity optional); excuses for gatherings and general cosiness; the quiet celebration of slivers of daylight. Living in the Nordics didn’t make me immune to British winter’s peculiar brand of sogginess. But it has given me a blueprint for surviving it – with less complaining, fewer chilblains, and an ice scraper that isn’t my Nectar card. (Helen Russell is the author of How to Raise a Viking and the bestselling Substack, Living Danishly with Helen Russell) (Photo: Imgorthand/Getty)
