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Undercover: Yank it on, you’re good to go

Storms in London. Good. I’m tired of lying starfished on my bed, my finest underpants sodden, glued to me like molten tar. I don’t do heat. But I’m no hypocrite. I’m not one of those people who whines that it’s not sunny, then whines that it’s too sunny. I  never want it to be hot.

The thing is, my entire sartorial ethos is built around layers. One layer, a t-shirt or the aforementioned underpant, is not layers. It’s just a single layer, worn only to conceal my erotic dignity. I need more than that. I need to wear piles of clothes dammit. This Undercover knit would be a good start.

What I like about a rollneck is that you don’t have to worry about what’s underneath. No one’s going to know what’s under there — could be a 3D Hulk Hogan t-shirt or you might be nipples-free. Doesn’t matter, yank it on, you’re good to go.

There’s part of me that still likes the look of a rollneck under a blazer. Sure, it’s all sorts of GQ-ish, Steve McQueen channeling snooze, but under the right circumstances, with the right company, at the right dog track, it can work.

In fairness though, this number doesn’t need a cover up. It’s a show piece. And according to retailer End, fashioned in “variegated vertical stripes.” (But then if you were trying to shift 365 quid rollnecks, you’d probably reach for a thesaurus too.) Put more simply, it’s light grey, camel and ecru. It’s made of wool. And it’s got a little ‘Prince Charles’ style pocket. Which is useful for little except marathon games of I’m A Little Teapot. Say what you like about Undercover’s design choices, but they do consider every eventuality.

Insert the usual cavat of ‘if money was no object’ and I’d have a slice of this. It’s a little left-field-preppy. It’s got a bit of Arthur Fowler’s alotment about it. But still, I do dig the colours and the fit looks appropriately loose. I’d quite like to be able to stand with a single hand in that single pocket, if for no other reason than I might look a bit avant garde. I’m not sure that’s entirely worth the £365 swing ticket. But who cares. The weather is back to being grey and moist and I’m smilling again.

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