It creeps up on you, dressing like an old person. First you eschew the things that make you cold—the thin jumpers, the short-sleeved shirts—then it’s comfort, and out go the shoes that pinch or don’t support your arches, the smart trousers that are too tight, and then you don’t want endless buttons because that’s a lot of faff for your fingers and soon, before you know it, you’re heading, hands outstretched like a zombie, for the sand-colored section of Marks & Spencer’s Very Old Menswear Department for the quarter-zip camel jumper.
