Yaaaaaasss boss. Now this is living. Are you man enough to leave the house in something that’s fundamentally homewear? I think I might be, although I suspect I’d be so corrupted by anxiety as to render the entire activity emotionally ruinous. What will people think? What do I look like? Can I adopt sufficient swagger to imply it’s no big deal I’ve got a rug round my neck?

Of course, it’s not technically a rug, it’s a poncho. And, as ponchos go, a smart one. It’s from the technical masterminds over at Nanamica and is down filled, snap button armed and looks like a quilt. Like How To Make An American Quilt through a Black Mirror lens. Modern and tech-savvy, but you’re never sure if it’s laughing with you or at you. Are you supposed to wear this knowing you’ll look like a berk, but it doesn’t matter because you’re in on the joke? Or are you the joke for thinking that?

Those of more hardy sensibilities might be happy to just shrug this on get on with things. Maybe you could get away with it in the park? Coat-cum-blanket style? I dunno. The more I look at this, the more I think it exists on some ghoulish intellectual plain I’ll never be granted access to.