We’ve all been there. Maybe not Punxsutawney itself, the town in Pennsylvania, US, at the centre of Groundhog Day. More the metaphorical malaise. That sense of being stuck in a rut, like Bill Murray in the 1993 film of the same name. Reliving the same day over and over again. Or at least wearing the same clothes, in the same colours. Having a curated wardrobe that you can rely on is one thing. But a rotation of clothing should never feel like a treadmill.

There was a time when you wouldn’t want to be called a charro. The term first appears in 16th-century Portuguese and Galician to describe idiots or fools. Vicente de Olea, a Castilian writer of that era, defined it as “crazy”. As it filtered into Spanish, it became a synonym for gaudy and tasteless. By the time it arrived in Mexico with colonial settlers, it was used as a derogatory designation for simple country folk, much like “yokel”, “bumpkin” or even “redneck” might be deployed in English.

It seems obvious to say that you should wear your clothes. That’s what they’re for, isn’t it? However, there’s an understandable temptation to preserve and protect certain items, pieces that you’ve spent a lot of money on or that you hope will always look as good as they did the day you bought them. Personally, I’ve always taken a different approach; that to love something is to use it and to use it often. To watch it age, change, fall apart and be repaired. Clothes, like most things, shouldn’t be preserved in aspic and hidden deep in the archive of your wardrobe.

You are a man of many layers, that much is true. And yet, all too often, it’s only the top layer that really counts. It is what most people first encounter, after all. And it’s your first line of defence when it comes to withstanding the elements. Look, we’re not here to delve too deeply into your psychological makeup, merely to point you towards our excellent line of outerwear.

We’ve all been there. Maybe not Punxsutawney itself, the town in Pennsylvania, US, at the centre of Groundhog Day. More the metaphorical malaise. That sense of being stuck in a rut, like Bill Murray in the 1993 film of the same name. Reliving the same day over and over again. Or at least wearing the same clothes, in the same colours. Having a curated wardrobe that you can rely on is one thing. But a rotation of clothing should never feel like a treadmill.

There was a time when you wouldn’t want to be called a charro. The term first appears in 16th-century Portuguese and Galician to describe idiots or fools. Vicente de Olea, a Castilian writer of that era, defined it as “crazy”. As it filtered into Spanish, it became a synonym for gaudy and tasteless. By the time it arrived in Mexico with colonial settlers, it was used as a derogatory designation for simple country folk, much like “yokel”, “bumpkin” or even “redneck” might be deployed in English.