Everything about the hoodie shows great care and attention to detail. The stitches are flawless and strong, the cuffs – though absurdly long – impart a feeling of permanence that I didn’t believe possible of a stretch material.
But these damn aglets. My left aglet was split wide open from the word go, the lace threatening to spring from its casing with a firm tug. The right aglet, though far more secure, inspired no more confidence than a payless shoelace.
Perhaps owing to a congenital impatience for misbehaved inanimate objects, I attacked the left aglet with my leatherman in an attempt to instill some discipline, but it now shows “bite marks”. Less than stern stuff, these god damned aglets.
Fix them and you’re flirting with perfection.