Now here’s a man who doesn’t forget people’s birthdays. An analogue soul, he’s sensitive, well-read (preferring paperback Penguin reissues to any of that Kindle nonsense) and feels passionate about recycling. The type who always wears a bicycle helmet, he needs a bag for life – in heavy-duty canvas. A far cry from the flimsy calico versions given away for free, the Trustworthy Toter prefers something deliberately designed, but reassuringly wholesome, with a logo that’s small enough to guarantee he won’t be accused of being a show-off. Never more than 50ft from the nearest independent coffee shop, you’ll clock him with a decaf cortado, parked next to the café’s long-standing but perennially under-watered monstera, squinting at his phone through tortoiseshell Oliver Peoples glasses.

Equal parts smart and slouchy, the Cross-Body Charmer is a laid-back, fashion-savvy type who retains a youthful glow, regardless of age. A fan of upmarket baseball caps, brand new sports socks and listening to the latest grime mix tapes, diagonal baggage lends his gym-toned torso an edgy flavour, or at least that’s what he thinks when he looks in the mirror. Naturally competitive, he’s a legend in his own bedroom, with a reputation for being the earliest adopter of trends in his postcode friendship circle (an accolade he bears with pride). A former member of the shaved-eyebrow brigade, he’s simmered down lately, but still approaches roundabouts in third gear to keep the old-school thrills alive.

A man who spent his teens on a half-pipe, these days you’ll find the Backpack Survivor smoking a pipe with a pint of obscure craft ale in hand. When the singer Ms Avril Lavigne said, “He was a skater boy,” she was definitely right about this candidate, who perfected the double ollie around the same time he collected his degree certificate. A casual, clean-cut guy with a few faded band T-shirts lurking in the wardrobe, he takes pride in his kombucha scoby and collection of high-end Gore-Tex. Monday to Friday, the rucksack helps keep that feeling of juvenile rebellion alive and doubles up as the best briefcase alternative for carting a MacBook and other work-related guff to the city every day. Come the weekend, it’s transformed into a mobile toddler-assistance unit with ample space for oddments of Lego, a crusty-looking comforter and a microscopic box of travel raisins.

You’ll hear the Bagless Wonder before you see him, thanks to the sound of loose change jangling around. He’s a gentleman who prefers pockets, wears a watch that’s waterproof to 1,000m and can start a fire with nothing more than two twigs and a Snickers bar. The sort of bloke with whom you would (possibly) want to be shipwrecked, his utility waistcoat and combat trousers – all by Snow Peak, And Wander and Hiroshi Nozawa, thank you very much – are packed to bursting with all manner of useful stuff. Purposeful and resourceful, his phone is set to airplane mode to conserve battery life, regardless of his proximity to a charger and power sockets. In his opinion, bags slow you down and hinder your escape. Not what you need when you’ve missed the last night bus and you’re being chased by a polar bear.