That's men for you:Has the man who puts on a cardigan passed a momentous milestone in his life? Is he indicating that he is no longer for the wars and that, so to speak, "home is the sailor from the sea, the hunter from the hill?" Is it time for a good snooze, a mug of hot chocolate and early to bed?
Or is he making an up-to-the-minute fashion statement? To me, wearing a cardigan is something I would have to psychologically and emotionally adjust to in the same way that I would have to adjust to the use of, say, a zimmer frame. I would have to say goodbye to that part of my old identity that had no connection whatsoever with the cardigan and all that it implies.
To my mind the cardigan implies pipe, slippers and your faithful old dog dozing at your feet as you peruse the obituary columns, chortling occasionally to your wife - who is arranging flowers in a vase - at the demise of some old enemy.
The thing is, I could be wrong about all this. In the UK, sales of cardigans have increased tenfold in some leading retailers in the past year. Even David Beckham has taken to wearing a cardigan occasionally. There again, David Beckham has been known to wear his wife's hairband, her knickers and a sari so perhaps he is not the most reliable guide to what's coming next for today's man.
I learnt all this from listening to an item on Woman's Hour on BBC Radio Four. And, yes, I fully realise that this means I should probably be wearing a cardigan myself. But I have resisted and I hope to continue to resist any involvement with this garment.
Who could be buying all these cardigans in the UK? Surely not the big lad with the number one haircut, the T-shirt stretched over the belly and the dozen cans of Dutch Gold in the plastic bag? I think we can safely say that in such an eventuality, John Bull's image would become rather less frightening to the rest of us.
The cardigan does, though, have a link with war. The interknit, sorry, internet informs me that it is named after the seventh Earl of Cardigan and the knitted vest he wore before leading his men to their deaths in the Charge of the Light Brigade.
One wonders whether any of these unfortunates questioned the wisdom of going into battle led by a man wearing a cardigan? There again, the ill-fated charge is said to have resulted from a bungled communication from the British commander Lord Raglan, another chap with the same name as a knitted garment. And, of course, the whole sorry affair occurred in a place called Balaclava. I think we are beginning to get a pattern here, and it's a knitting pattern.
If that's not enough to deter today's man from taking up the wearing of cardigans, then I suppose we must expect matters to get even worse. Will we see a return of the leather patch at the elbow of your tweed jacket? Be warned - the wearing of such patches involves adopting a serious look as though you are so busy studying the Greek and Latin masters that you haven't the time to kit yourself out in decent clothes.
The ultimate degradation would be socks with sandals and, on very hot days on the beach, a white handkerchief on your head with each corner knotted for ballast.
What are the health implications of the cardigan? I suppose you could argue that the cardigan wearer could reduce his stress levels by fiddling with his buttons, like worry beads. And I don't suppose the cardigan wearer will want to go boy racing, take drugs (except those prescribed by his doctor) or drink cider at midnight on the canal bank. All that is to the good. But is it enough to justify the risk of hurtling down the slippery slope towards socks with sandals and handkerchiefs on heads? I think not.
•Padraig O'Morain is the author of Like A Man - a guide to men's emotional well-being (Veritas).
•His blog is at www.justlikeaman.blogspot.com