Clogs, chore jackets, straw hats and woven baskets are the look of the season. But are the brands and people embracing this aesthetic really doing any gardening?

Lately, it feels like you can’t move for clogs. Everywhere you look, it’s straw hats, dungarees, floaty dresses, chore jackets and basket bags – and that’s in city centres, not garden centres. This is the rise of “allotmentcore” – somewhere between the linen-clad luxury of the “coastal grandmother” and the whimsical outdoorsiness of “cottagecore” – and it’s coming for all of our autumns.

“I’d describe it as Little House on the Prairie meets Felicity Kendal in The Good Life, meets Bill and Ben,” says Mal James, professor of fashion design at the University of Edinburgh. “With the overall style of an imaginary love child of Monty Don and Pamela Anderson, the reinvented queen of garden chic.” It’s true that Anderson – once most famous for sporting a high-leg red swimsuit – has more recently become a pioneer of the allotmentcore style, living “romantically” in midi dresses and bandanas, frequently clutching floral bouquets. Popular brands include the family-run Carrier Company from Norfolk, Danish designers Skall Studio and Welsh-founded lifestyle label Toast. As online fashion publication Who What Wear put it: “If it looks like you’re ready to sport a pair of pruning shears at any moment, you’ve got the look right.”

Cook up mushrooms, leeks and foraged chestnuts, pick fruit, sow broad beans for spring and harvest squash

Quince
Hard as a baseball and initially unpromising, quince are at their best cooked until beautifully aromatic. To save the torture of peeling (thank you, queen of preserving Pam Corbin), poach whole until soft, cool, then discard the core and blitz.

Leeks
Try cooking these sweet, oniony joys in a moderate oven, wrapped in foil with just a dash of olive oil and a sliced garlic clove per leek, until soft and luscious – about 40 minutes, depending on thickness.

Most allotment holders say the heat has meant more work for smaller crops, although some have found a silver lining

After a summer of repeated heatwaves and exceptionally dry weather in the UK, rain has brought some relief this week, but drought remains widespread and experts warn it will take weeks of sustained rainfall for water supplies to recover.

For people growing their own fruit and vegetables, it has been a challenging and sometimes surprising season. The Guardian spoke to growers across England about how they are adapting to a hotter, drier climate.

Tomatoes, samphire and basil bloom in summer – as, of course, do the essential strawberries

Basil
The scent and flavour of summer: keep stems cut-end in shallow water, and out of the fridge. If you have a pot plant, stand it in a saucer and water from below in the morning as basil hates having wet feet overnight.

Community gardens are flourishing as people seek a positive, productive space beyond the political noise. Just don’t express any strong opinions about gravel

What do you do when it feels as if the world has lost the plot? There are various answers to that question, but one of the more wholesome (and legal) is this: secure your own little plot of earth and cultivate your garden. But that’s sometimes easier said than done. In the UK, more than 170,000 people are reportedly sitting on council allotment waiting lists. A controversial scheme nicknamed “WeWork for allotments” has even sprouted up to rent out green space and fill the gaps.

I know nobody wants to come to the US at present, but, based on a sample size of one, the allotment situation seems rather better over here, where I live. It took me only a year or so to get a plot in a community garden (what Americans call allotments) near me in Philadelphia, which felt miraculous.

From tender broad beans and cheek-puckering rhubarb to nutty new potatoes, make the most of the season’s best

Elderflower
Pick on the sunniest May days, when their scent is heady and sweet, to infuse for cordial. For a truly special tipple, pour a litre of gin into a large, shallow dish, and stand as many elderflower heads, florets down, as fit for two hours. Drain, bottle, and enjoy with tonic and ice on a warm evening.

Attenborough, 99, enthuses about tube-riding pigeons, foxes, parakeets and others in Wild London for the BBC

Filming the wildlife of London requires an intrepid, agile presenter, willing to lie on damp grass after dark to encounter hedgehogs, scale heights to hold a peregrine falcon chick, and stake out a Tottenham allotment to get within touching distance of wary wild foxes.

Step forward Sir David Attenborough, who spent his 100th summer seeking out the hidden nature of his home city for an unusually personal and intimate BBC documentary.