THE CONFIDENCE JUMPER

Today I'm wearing the Confidence Jumper.

Hey listen, I don't know why it is, but it seems that whenever I wear the Confidence Jumper, I feel super-confident and cool. There's nothing special about the jumper - it's quite ordinary to look at. It's made of wool, it's kind of a deep dark green, it's a little bit scratchy, and it's not noteworthy in any way at all.

Yet when I slip it over my head and push my arms into its sleeves, I'm suddenly like Superman - un-dentable, un-flappable, cool, collected, and invincibly funny.

Yes, funny. Not the kind of funny that gets my teenage niece to roll her eyes, slow-clap and say "Hil-ar-ious" as sarcastically as possible; not the kind of funny that's met with tumbleweed or indifference in response to a jokey email - I'm talking about the kind of thing that makes people chuckle in the kitchen, or cover their mouth with their hand while they shake uncontrollably. And weirdly, it isn't my sense of humour that's changed - at least I don't think so. Same jokes, same me, same old material. Cool.

It's all down to the Jumper.

I wonder though, why all my clothes can't be like the Confidence Jumper? Where are the Trousers of Excellence or the Socks of Sensitivity? Where is the Happiness T-Shirt or the Popularity Jacket? And what about the Shoes of...Peace...oh...

Hmm. Perhaps it's not that original an idea. After all, St Paul wrote about this kind of thing a long time ago. Maybe it's deeper than the jumper.