Pyjamas have seen something of a revival these past chilly winters. Not the mimsy ones in pastel colours whose principal existence now is in the parallel world of modesty-conforming television bedrooms, but the full flannel, with stripes, cord and top pocket (for your hanky, of course). What could be more comforting and more secure (so long as you've tied the cord properly) while the ice grips and the wind whistles without?
The teddy bear is optional, as is calling them jim-jams, or PJs. Only slim or brave men wear the top tucked into the bottoms.
The British adapted them from local wear out east, but, as usual with us, the elegance was somewhat lost in the translation, always excepting Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday.
Other role models: Guy Ritchie, the guvnor of geezer chic, wears them, and has not been afraid to display them at his doorstep, while those of Jacob Rees-Mogg MP are said to be double-breasted, but this may be a fabrication. Cocoa, anyone?