The shirt is made from a high-quality pinpoint cotton — so-called because, looked at up close, it has a texture of tiny pin-size dots. Made by a cotton shirting mill in Cumbria, it has a fine weave and is most commonly a dress-shirt fabric, but here has been washed to give it a softer, more crumpled appearance.

The shirt has a gently rounded penny collar, with a very narrow tie-space. The second-from-top button sits in close proximity to the top one, so if wearers don’t button all the way up, the next best thing isn’t far off. The cuffs on the shirt have slightly rounded ends, mirroring the collar.

The shirt has a half-hidden placket — top four buttons are not hidden; bottom four are — which gives the appearance that the shirt has been pulled on over the head, when, in fact, it hasn’t. Buttons are real horn. Made in the Midlands, they’re light tortoiseshell in colour, and have a dimple in the middle.

The chap here is 5ft 11in (180cm) and wears a size small.

Cloth comes from a British shirting specialist — one of a quarter-handful of such establishments left in the country. They work with a close-knit bunch of producers across Cumbria and Lancashire in the north of England: one specialising in poplin, another pinpoint, another oxford, etc.

The light horn buttons are made — that’s cut, dyed, and polished — by the last remaining manufacturer of horn and corozo button in England. Based in the West Midlands, the factory has been in the hands of the same family since opening in the mid-1800s: five generations of top-quality button-making know-how.

The garment is made and finished in a small factory in North London, which excels with outerwear, shirts, and trousers. It’s a place of meticulous cutters, unflappable seamsters and seamstresses, and a well cared-for and marvellous-looking contraption for making button-holes.