A man’s style journey is, on the whole, cyclical. A few of us get the bug early on and never take our feet off the gas, but most guys dress in epochs; periods of activity and passivity that ebb and flow as life changes. I’ve long had a firm preoccupation with clothes, so would put myself in the former camp, but as I’ve eked into my mid-thirties, disinterest has begun to set in. I still love good garms, but feel less of an urge to actually wear them, often reaching for the same trusted pieces day after day and rarely stepping away from my well-established comfort zone.

Maybe it’s an age thing, or a hangover from lockdown. Either way, it should probably stop – getting dressed is one of life’s great pleasures. And, as a new year beckons, it’s time to get back in the game. So, for 2024, I’ve made five style resolutions – a series of little tweaks and intentions that will help to shake off the inertia. And MR PORTER was kind enough to record it, for posterity.

This is by far the wildest resolution of the lot. I don’t own any leather clothing but have recently found myself pining for a leather blazer. They’re just so brilliantly ridiculous. Not smart, not casual; not quite a coat, but sturdier than a blazer. And they have taken various forms over the decades – in the 1990s, they were boxy and oversized, worn with blue jeans and beaten-up boots. In the 1970s, they were much slicker, with sharp shoulders and lapels like tectonic plates. This TOM FORD number is definitely inspired by the latter, but, thankfully, not completely absurd.

Nothing, I learnt, imbues you with chutzpah like a leather blazer. Few individual garments make you feel so good, like a rough-diamond detective, one day from retirement, about to bust this case wide open. You have to wear a blazer like this with an open shirt, high-waisted trousers and boots, which is why I won’t reach for it every day. It can’t be “dressed up or down”; it’s an all-or-nothing kind of look. But simply knowing you have a leather blazer in the locker gives you a boost.

This is perhaps the easiest style resolution of all, considering that the V-neck is about as conservative and widespread as a sweater can be. However, I’ve long believed that the only acceptable neck shape – for me, at least – was the humble crew. There have been flirtations with rollnecks, and I’ve even considered a boat neck from time to time, but the V always seemed too much like the kind of “smart” thing I’d wear as a teenager interviewing for a job. The less said about the historical “deep-V” T-shirt the better.

Now, though, the V-neck has been wholly embraced by “big fashion”. Suddenly, its virtues are all too apparent. When cut in a chunkier, boxier shape – like this natty Gucci number – the V helps to accentuate one’s shoulders. It also elevates the sweater, from something more basic to something ever so slightly more considered. What’s more, I like preppy style, and suddenly realise that the V-neck sweater is a core tenet of proper mid-century prep. The kind of thing you’d wear with khakis and Converse Jack Purcells.

I share a morning coffee spot with a well-known British actor. And, although our relationship extends to no more than a cursory nod, I am always impressed by his dedication to tailoring. I’m there in my gym gear while he sips espresso in suit separates and beautiful shoes. I have never seen him in jeans, or, god forbid, sneakers.

I love wearing suits, but still associate them with formality. However, I know it’s possible to be a “suit guy” – someone that wears a blazer and trousers every day, without looking like a bank manager – because very cool men do it all the time. The trick is to stay away from business-like fits and finishes (anything too structured in navy or charcoal, with little texture to the fabric) and explore more unorthodox colours, cuts and shapes. And look for brands that cherish elegance over smartness, such as Lemaire, the Parisian outfitter with a cult following among the insouciantly stylish (real or aspiring).

This slightly oversized double-breasted suit in a brown wool-cotton blend doesn’t scream “boardroom”. In fact, it barely whispers “tailoring”, and it’s soft enough to wear with jeans and a knit, but still smart enough to make you stand up straight. I might wear it every day.

Monochromatic dressing is something I’ve come to embrace, provided it’s navy or black. Anything else and you risk looking like you belong to a cult. But double denim is a mono-concept all of its own. I’ve often worried that it only exists as a kind of guy’s-guy cosplay; like you’re trying to make people think you know intermediate carpentry and drive an old Volvo. But I do love denim, and have been gradually incorporating it into looks where denim wouldn’t normally be. A chambray dress shirt (by Oliver Spencer) for black-tie events, for example.

So, now I’m resolved to doubling up on denim, but I think it only really works in stonewashed, mid-blue shades, like these OrSlow jeans and this Our Legacy jacket. I love dark, unwashed indigo denim, but going all the way with it is a bit too boyband. The vibe must be low-key-sartorial – the kind of thing you’d find in an old Polo Ralph Lauren campaign. And I want it to err on the elegant, rather than the rugged. Having said that, I am wearing a Henley, the ultimate tough-guy garment. But allow me a little butchness, will you?

Colour is something I’ve dabbled with over the years. I have enormous amounts of respect (and jealousy) for the likes of Messrs David Hockney and Pharrell Williams, who use colour to maximum effect. However, I’ve always been a bit scared by it. There have been forays into the world of animal print and occasional pops of letterbox-red or bottle green, but generally, my wardrobe is cast in navy, white, black and beige.

A rich shade of purple looks to be one of the colours of 2024, popping up at the autumn/winter shows of JW Anderson, Fendi and Dries Van Noten, among many others. It feels like some shades (such as fluorescent green, perhaps) could never be taken seriously, but deep, saturated purple has a quiet majesty.

Would I wear a purple suit? I don’t own a chocolate factory, so, no. But would subtle accents of purple work as part of a wider look? Quite possibly. Japanese brand Needles is one of my go-tos, and the texture of this shirt offsets the purpleness. Plus, it’s great for layering, meaning I won’t have to go full-Dairy Milk.