In Sir Paul Smith’s office, you will find: a rubber chicken, a photo of David Bowie, a photo of Paul Smith with David Bowie; roughly 500 vintage cycling jerseys; countless books, on subjects that include Giacometti sculpture, British female artists from 1520 to 1920 and memorable Volkswagen adverts; a framed pair of swimming shorts signed by Martin Parr; a phone shaped like Snoopy; a set of Estonian dominoes; a giant Anglepoise lamp; lots of paintings; and a six-feet-tall pencil.

In the days of more rigid dress codes, the demarcation between striped and checked shirts was a line you wouldn’t cross. Stripes were one of the few embellishments permitted in a business setting, and even then only in certain shades. Checks meanwhile belonged in the countryside, usually worn during outdoors pursuits or – god forbid – for manual labour. But the world has moved on, and the old edicts about what to wear where no longer apply.

On paper, men’s blazers should conjure the same reaction as florals in spring. Predictable. Sensible. Even the not-really-a-blazer guy will have one reserved for weddings and work, before quietly returning it to the back of the wardrobe. But in recent years, something’s shifted. The blazer has slipped free of its formal straitjacket and stepped into a more relaxed space.

It seems almost cruel that the first major event of the year is Valentine’s Day. Especially for those in the initial throes of a relationship, because you’re at that stage where you’re not quite sure just how big to go. Is it flowers and a card? Maybe a trail of rose petals to a candlelit table for two? Or do you go all out on the romantic weekend break to Rome? And, crucially, what should you wear?

In Sir Paul Smith’s office, you will find: a rubber chicken, a photo of David Bowie, a photo of Paul Smith with David Bowie; roughly 500 vintage cycling jerseys; countless books, on subjects that include Giacometti sculpture, British female artists from 1520 to 1920 and memorable Volkswagen adverts; a framed pair of swimming shorts signed by Martin Parr; a phone shaped like Snoopy; a set of Estonian dominoes; a giant Anglepoise lamp; lots of paintings; and a six-feet-tall pencil.

In the days of more rigid dress codes, the demarcation between striped and checked shirts was a line you wouldn’t cross. Stripes were one of the few embellishments permitted in a business setting, and even then only in certain shades. Checks meanwhile belonged in the countryside, usually worn during outdoors pursuits or – god forbid – for manual labour. But the world has moved on, and the old edicts about what to wear where no longer apply.