They don’t even need to say a word. I know what they’re thinking every time they stare at me as I walk a few metres ahead up the high street. I mean, I know I have great style, but take a picture, please; it’ll last longer.

Or shooting eye daggers in my direction when I’m just trying to pay for a pint. Thanks a lot, mate. And don't think I don't notice them wandering to the other side of the street when they see me approaching from afar. I didn’t even get a chance to ... not do anything!

Sometimes, they do say a word. Or a couple, under their breath, thinking that I won’t hear them. It’s nothing new, but always a bit disappointing when it happens. Karens and Kyles are just drawn to me like moths to a flame. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why that might be.

But before I let my feelings get the best of me and do something that will have our interaction trending on TikTok by this evening,

I look down and realise that I don’t need to say a word, either. Sometimes, staying silent and letting your clothing speak for you is the biggest power move in the world.

As the saying goes, “Forewarned is forearmed,” and I like to wear my warning on my sleeve (or right across my chest, depending on what makes me look the sharpest that day). Oh, were you going to judge me? Not so fast; I’m already a few steps ahead of you. My hoodie is playing offence, so I don’t have to play defence. Most of the time, anyway. I guess you could say that it’s changed the game for me.

No, I’m not thinking what they’re thinking. But if they’re open to it, maybe we can think about finding some common ground together.

I’m someone. Not sūšpect.™