The British class system is a puzzling thing. A hierarchy that divides the populace according to occupation, social status and political influence, it was once locked to hereditary lineage. Since the Industrial Revolution, this social landscape has broken down, like Pangaea to the modern-day alignment of the atlas. However, social mobility often seems to have a fluidity that runs at the pace of a continental plate. In the words of AC/DC, it’s a long way to the top (if you want to rock ’n’ roll).

At the upper strata of this social pyramid, it gets even more complicated. Nobility is sorted by rank and you must be born into it. Which begs the question, does the cachet that comes with social status transfer to namesake objects? Is Queen’s music better than Prince’s? Is a kingfisher beneath an emperor penguin in the avian pecking order? And is a Viscount biscuit lowlier than the Earl Grey tea in which you dunk it?

We ask because the cardigan, named after Lieutenant-General James Thomas Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, has been much maligned in recent years, despite its affiliation with the eponymous military officer and member of the peerage. True, Jim the Bear, as he was known, led the calamitous Charge of the Light Brigade, so his stock isn’t what it was, but is this item of clothing still of greater worth than, say, the leotard, named after commoner Mr Jules Léotard, a lawyer whose career took an unlikely U-turn into trapeze artistry.

Today, the cardigan is more likely to be associated with grandads than mid-ranking noblemen, as are grandad shirts, which were first worn by factory workers who were not of pensionable age, but that’s another story. This is something that the latest iterations of button-up knitwear hope to address. Cut in more contemporary shapes from elevated materials and, in some cases, dispensing with buttons in favour of zips, these are cardigans that shake off the fusty image and maybe go some way to making up for the military blunders of the Crimean War.

On site today, you will find a smart yet sporty silk-blend piece by Peter Millar, a pleasingly rustic flecked Donegal merino-blend item by J.Crew and an easy-going zip-up by Irish woollen stalwart Inis Meáin. If we had to pick a favourite, we’d plump for this number by Oliver Spencer, which jettisons the earl in favour of a strong Charlie Brown vibe.

Even cosy knitwear has its own power structure and, by our count, this batch is somewhere near the top.