More machine now than man. Or perhaps the dystopian fantasies of the darkest corners of cyberspace in flesh form. Either way, this dude is not to be trifled with, trifle being in direct violation of galactic culinary protocol. His coat is less an article of clothing, more an article of Megacity municipal regulation, which he is here to uphold. Certainly, his epaulets are broader than his interpretation of the law. With his draping military robes and serious metal hardware, he’s either an overly embellished fashionista or penal enforcement officer for a Coruscant Subsector junta. Does he think he’s above the dress code? He is the dress code.

At one time or another, we’ve all felt as though we haven’t got a single thing to wear. At the other extreme there’s this guy, wearing everything that he owns, all at once. Base layer, check. Sweater, check. Overshirt, check (and checked). Gilet, jacket and overcoat? Tick, tick, tick. Hat, scarf and gloves, all present and correct. Is the cardigan too much? Thin inner socks worn with thicker woollen socks. A waterproof, in case it rains. And don’t forget the fleece-lined trousers. “Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and remove one accessory,” Ms Coco Chanel supposedly said. Meanwhile, our man, in his ball of clothing, can barely make out the mirror.

Think this geezer looks good for his age? Then a doff of the cap to his outerwear, which is very possibly even older. When it comes to investment pieces, his portfolio is diverse and he’s in for the long haul. His coat is of impeccable pedigree; it was built to last, and will no doubt outlast him. There’s no quick fixes in his wardrobe, although there’s a few patches, darns and repairs. He has the receipts somewhere, along with whittled sticks and candy that should be carbon dated rather than consumed. The faintest whiff of musty garages should fade in the breeze, but good style never goes out of fashion. Or is it a broken clock is right twice a day? In his pocket, he has some spare parts for that, too.

If the world really is on fire, then at least one man is dressed for it. The terminology “global warming” has been jettisoned in favour of “climate change”, which goes further to explain unpredictable weather patterns that stem from the rising temperature of our planet. However, one certainty is that, no matter what freak atmospheric conditions are headed our way, this guy will still be wearing flip-flops in late November. He says he “runs hot”, although, despite the gym shorts, he doesn’t seem to be running anywhere. Energy crisis? What energy crisis? He’s more likely to call his mother than adjust his thermostat. He might reach for a sweater come January. As for the coat, so that he can “really feel the benefit of it”, he’s holding out, possibly until hell – this hell? – has frozen over.