Are you sitting comfortably? (Of course you are, you’re wearing sweatpants.) Then we’ll begin.

Back in October 2019, when MR PORTER launched an investigation into whether a grown man can (and should) wear a pair of sweatpants to the office, it was the sweatpants rather than the office that was the subject of scrutiny. But, after a year of WFH, with proper trousers barely getting a look in, the tables have very much turned (and kitchen tables have been turned into desks).

Now, I can understand the clamour to return to life as we knew it, but that place has gone. Good riddance. Even if the office is still there, we’ve all changed. Our outlooks, yes, but more importantly our clothes. Just as smart employers see flexible working as the future, smart employees have a wardrobe to match. Where we once were resigned to trussing ourselves up in attire that was more about how it looked than what it was like to wear, today, the conversation is all about comfort.

True, style is still important. But now we’ve all been exposed to more relaxed clothing (and waistbands), we’ve come to realise that feeling at ease with ourselves, and what we wear, is the ultimate luxury.

Our loungewear is, in turn, answering this demand. Where I once made do with jersey sweats – hell, if the trousers were able to stay up while I put the bins out, it was enough – the cost per wear of such items now makes cashmere feel like less of an extravagance. In fact, what they actually feel like is good. And I’m not ready to give that up for something that requires a belt.

Thankfully, numerous designers seem to be on the same page. So, while the likes of Balenciaga and A-COLD-WALL* have made sweatpants central to their latest shows, proving that comfy can be cutting edge, most labels have embraced elements of loungewear into their collections. It’s why Ermenegildo Zegna is turning out coats that look like dressing gowns, Fendi and Prada both unveiled knitted onesies and brands as disparate as Dries Van Noten, Dunhill and Junya Watanabe have tailored trousers that draw from sweats, or at the very least feature drawstrings. Louis Vuitton even featured pyjamas with a suit and tie.

When we covered it back in January, we coined this movement “snoozecore”, but this style of dressing is far from lazy. Modern loungewear is not just luxury, it is versatile. Given that you can now wear sweatpants with everything from streetwear to suiting, as well as, obviously, sportswear, they might just be the hardest working articles in your wardrobe. (And you know, this awards season, someone out there is teaming a pair with a tuxedo.)

This genie is not going back in the bottle. Rather than relegate sweats, it’s time to upgrade them, with better cuts and superior, softer fabrics. As Ms Christina Aguilera would undoubtedly have it, if you’re a pair of trousers, you’ve got to rub me the right way.

I was a late convert to loungewear. My comfort zone always tended to be in something a bit smarter – for quite a few years, I didn’t even own a pair of jeans, which, looking back, is perhaps just a bit weird. And I wasn’t much interested in spending money on clothes that I’d more or less only wear at home (oh, the irony). But, about 18 months ago, I caved, and for a little while there I was pretty pleased with myself. I’d added a new dimension to my wardrobe, and enthusiastically shopped for these soft, enveloping garments. I bought sweatpants, dug out old sweatshirts and embraced hoodies with enthusiasm not seen since my teenage years.

It’s not like prior to this I sat around in tweed suits every day. But when there was a chance I’d be doing anything more than schlepping to the supermarket, I always made an effort to be a bit better attired. Now it feels like no sooner had I dipped a toe in this world than Britain locked down against the pandemic, and I was trapped. My willpower faded, my reasons to leave home non-existent, and the sweats that had been my occasional lazy-day option became the norm.

Little had I realised that I was effectively upholstering the cell to which I’d be confined for most of 2020 and beyond. Now that we can see light at the end of the tunnel, I can’t wait to leave them behind.

If I’m totally honest, it was never so much about the sweatpants. As a taller chap, it’s proved nearly impossible to find a pair that doesn’t come to an abrupt, elasticated end somewhere in the mid-shin area. But hoodies and sweatshirts are a different case altogether. I’ve become pretty symbiotic with mine over the last few months. If one item of clothing says “lockdown life” more than any other to me, it’s a hoodie – but I’m ready to fold them up and give them some space.

Although it will be a bit of a psychological wrench. Wearing almost the same thing day in, day out has had an unusual effect, a sort of lethargic numbness bordering on apathy. I’m in stockholm syndrome with my sweats; a prisoner in polyester, a fleece-lined fugitive from fashion. I’m ready to put more thought into what I wear, to bring the rest of my neglected wardrobe back into rotation – even just the idea of wearing a shirt and blazer, let alone a suit, fills me with sunny optimism. The first green shoots of social occasions have now been sighted on my calendar: weddings, baptisms, birthdays – all cautiously booked in for the summer months – and I’m counting down the days.

Others have written about the psychological impact of wearing smarter clothing, and I admit I’ve dabbled, putting on a shirt once or twice for a more important Zoom call, but it wasn’t the same. Your mind knows when you’re trying to trick it – it’s not just wearing smarter threads that’s the issue but wearing them in the right time and place, if you ask me. Equally, I’m not sure that wearing comfy, layabout clothing has contributed to any particularly woolly thinking (that would be quite an indictment of a year’s work), but I’ll certainly feel more professional when we’re all out and about and making more of an effort again. Not too much effort though… I wouldn’t want to break a sweat.