Aztec sweater: costs £39, or an aorta

Aztecs:  murderous bastards who ripped the still-beating hearts from their victims' chests in an attempt to appease bloodthirsty gods. So, the ideal inspiration for a folksy knitted dress, then.  And quite what are those finger-shaped blocks of colour doing over the chest area, hmmmm?  

Available at Miss Selfridge, which describes this sweater as 'slash neck'.  Most unfortunate. 

Mangled remains of wildebeest

Is there something missing from this?  I mean, it looks like a bust of the Duke of Wellington, his head carelessly removed during an unfortunate encounter with a strimmer in the garden.

Faux fur gilet, £50, River Island.  At least Dick Turpin had the courtesy to wear a mask.

Recycled duvet filling

For the love of God, don't wear this when you go to see short-sighted Aunt Edna, or she will pick you up and attempt to dust the mantelpiece.  And that will be the end of that nice china flamenco dancer she brought back from one of the Costas in 1976, and those castanets she can be persuaded to snap after a couple of Cinzanos at Christmas. Don't shout 'Ole!', as this will only prompt her to get out the Viewmaster and show you her pictures of that 'holiday' in Fuengirola with Ernesto.

And also the lyre bird will want his mating plumage back.

Topshop, £75.

Ideal gift for scientists

Home chromatography kit from River Island, just in case you need to separate chlorophyll.

£40.  It's made from acrylic, which should further excite the home chemist.

Wear this and you'll find yourself circling lightbulbs

I can't tell whether this is a Rorschach test or moth camouflage.

Anyway, it's fifty quid from River Island, money better spent on having your head examined.

Elves knit these for River Island, you know

Older readers will instantly recognise the pattern on these leggings as the static on a badly-tuned television, somewhere between Welsh TV and Channel 4.  The attendant hiss contains remnants of the Big Bang, which is a novel thing to record on a pair of trousers, but we've had all kinds of subatomic and interplanetary garments on here before, haven't we?

I don't think Professor Brian Cox will fancy me in these, though.

£22.  

Oooh, I've come over all tessellated

River Island doing what it does best:  resurrecting seventies fashion badly.

Do, for a moment, imagine if you can turning up to a social occasion in these.   Actually, trying to imagine infinity or the vastness of the universe produces the same giddying effect, and will probably make you fall off the couch.

Staring into one of the black hexagons for long enough will probably induce a similar sense of spiral descent and faint nausea.

£35 for eye-bending strangeness.