The new popover sure has divided opinion. There are, on the one hand, several already who deem it the best thing since cut bread. But there are at least as many others, not backward in coming forward with the view that here is a thing that should never’ve been conceived, let alone made.

Little more need be said about the popover, indeed, than the following — qualitative feedback from fifty percent of the earliest of early adopters of the debut linen version.

“Have you ever involuntarily gasped out loud, like when you’re punched, for example, and winded? Does that also happen to you often? I’ve always wanted a blazer in this exact colour from your good selves to satisfy some subconscious desire to look like a geography teacher, but this new pullover thing — when it was unwrapped, unplanned exclamations abounded. Never mind the constant reminding to oneself to empty the giant pocket before taking off the piece or suffer a deluge from a comedy waterfall of personal object d’art. That minor point aside, this popover thing, with its half stand-collar and glorious longer end bit — why that’s so attractive I’ll never know — and that wraparound game pouch that you’d usually find inside a hunting jacket, proudly displayed all marsupial like in front. I love it. I love the design. I love the fabric. Is it a pullover? A shirt? A chore thing? You’ve only gone and invented and designed something new no one knew they needed and now must have. Goodness — its gorgeous and absolutely crucial. I haven’t stopped wearing it, and at home all I can think of is putting it on. You should be placed on a crowd’s shoulders and paraded around town so people can properly celebrate you for this incredible feat in design. Bravo.”

— A man from Brixton.

“Picked this thing up at the weekend and what a marvel of engineering it is. Over one person has made mention of the quality of its cut. I feel like I could be resident on one of those utopian planets in Star Trek. Sweating it out in 30-degrees and 80% humidity in Geneva.”

— A man from Newcastle, in Geneva at time of correspondence.

“Really not sure about this one. It’s just not for me. Sorry. I think I need to send it back.”

— A man from Keighley.

Your mileage may vary, but it will probably align with one of the above rather than anywhere in between. What we have here, after all, is a garment neither shirt nor pullover, whose pocket occupies a third of its total surface area, with a three-panel body, a drop hem, a two-piece split sleeve, and a few other facets guaranteed to attract or repulse.