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The test of a man’s style is in the size of his zip. If it’s long and slim, that’s brilliant. If it’s discrete, even better. But if it’s small and short, you must run a mile. And fast.
I’m talking about the zip on a man’s chest, by the way, in case you were picturing something else. In the last few weeks, quarter-zip jumpers have been seen swaddling the torsos of men everywhere. The city slickers wear theirs in cashmere: navy, black, and charcoal. The corporate geezers snap theirs up from the high street; Zara sells them in forest green and grey. And the clueless cads who really should know better opt for corduroy versions in beige and pastel pinks.
Like cockroaches, these stubby little zip creations tend to move together, gradually increasing in numbers. Next time you find yourself in a pub, take a look around and play “count the zips”. I guarantee you’ll spot at least three within a few minutes. One or two beers later, you’ll see five. Then possibly six or seven, depending on how close you are to Clapham, a bona fide cesspit for little zips.
Why are they so terrible? Well, let me count the ways. The first is the lack of consideration they suggest about one’s appearance. A quarter-zip jumper is not something you style an outfit around; it’s an afterthought, something you sling on because it’s the first thing you spotted in your wardrobe and you don’t have the energy to put anything better together. It evokes a sense of laziness and aesthetic immaturity that is fundamentally unattractive. The second is the person that has become synonymous with a quarter-zip. He’s the IT teacher with an avoidant attachment style. The sales executive whose mother still does his laundry. The insurance broker who’s having an affair with his 23-year-old assistant. In essence, there’s something slightly pathetic about them.
The movement began last year, when sales soared across the high street – in March 2023, John Lewis revealed it had sold 62 per cent more quarter-zips than crewnecks, while Gant said 10 per cent of its Christmas sales had been quarter-zip jumpers. Elsewhere, the likes of Gareth Southgate, Prince Harry and Rishi Sunak were seen proudly sporting them out and about, leading some to state that the quarter-zip jumper had become officially cool. This was, of course, very incorrect.
I’m not sure who decided these jumpers were an acceptable garment, let alone an attractive one, but they should really be locked in a cupboard full of the things until the summer. Sure, they’re comfortable, and I imagine they’re also fairly warm and hey, maybe they’re even a bit cosy! And I can see how they bridge the gap between smart workwear and casual clothing. But that is where the practical benefits end. Because guess what? Other jumpers do all of those things too. And they’re objectively far less offensive, stylish even!
There are endless options to save you from the sad little zip. What about the humble cable knit? It’s an oversized wintery wardrobe staple thanks to Billy Crystal’s sartorial sensibilities in When Harry Met Sally, and you can pick up something similar in literally any vintage shop. Or you can go for the classic polo neck cashmere option – just make sure it’s not too tight so as not to veer into delusional tech bro territory.
Elsewhere, there’s the classic crewneck jumper. It works in plain black, grey, or even with some sort of collegiate slogan on the front – another retro classic you could find quite easily. And if you really must have a zip because, I don’t know, the thought of putting a jumper on over your head is too much to bear, go for a full-length one aka a hoodie like a normal adult.
This brings me back to the little zip. There is a place for it on an anorak – Frank Ocean wore a Prada one on the red carpet to the Met Gala in 2019 – when it offers a nod to Nineties streetwear. But that’s about it. When on a jumper, what is its purpose, exactly? To give your neck a little air after a sweaty tube journey? To signal your arrival with a snappy little hiss? Or do you just think it adds a little intrigue, offering a peak as to what you’re wearing underneath?
Whichever way you spin it, there is no functional use for a small zip. It’s not going to make any difference to your temperature levels, nor will zipping it up or down change the overall aesthetic. In other words, there is no excuse for it. If it’s a style you favour, I’m afraid it’s time to reconsider. At least it is if you want anyone with a modicum of self-respect to go near you ever again.
