What’s in a name? For sweaters with extended neck lines, everything. I fail to see why rollneck is the term preferred by most style writers; it’s one typo away from neck roll. I have heard these sweaters called polo-necks, which is obviously another attempt to anoint a garment with the allure of the sport of kings—an increasingly crowded category considering how few people play polo. All these permutations are intentionally less evocative of this noble sweater’s best name; the turtleneck is cool precisely because it is sort of square. Anyway, what’s the problem with turtles, creatures that symbolize the archetypical male characters famous for having worn them—tough on the outside, all pulpy within?

No conversation about turtlenecks could possibly take place without acknowledging Steve McQueen in Bullit (1968). The British racing green mustang was cool, but it’s McQueen’s navy turtleneck beneath his brown tweed that remains the enduring symbol of the film. Of course that’s also the problem; style writing in major media likes to reference Bullit, treating the film and its lasting aesthetic as validation for the turtleneck’s existence. As compelling as McQueen is, so thin a treatment opens the turtleneck up to similarly cheap negative judgements. As even a casual internet search for turtlenecks reveals, images of guys doing their best McQueen account for about a third of the result; the other two-thirds are humorous memes and catastrophic attempts at style.

So the turtleneck is divisive, perhaps more so than any other traditionally male garment. But I’m convinced the division isn’t the love/hate sort. Rather, I think turtlenecks are just more susceptible to disaster, and many have made up their minds based upon a single train wreck. Too skimpy and they look like thermal layers; too thick and the wearer appears chin-deep in quicksand; not formal; not entirely casual; often too warm; never invisible. At the center of the difficulty is the fact that great variety exists in turtlenecks; choosing wisely requires a little experience and a good deal more common sense.

Sunspel makes terrific lightweight knits in every imaginable sweater-configuration.  King among them are the turtlenecks. — Sunspel makes terrific lightweight knits in every imaginable sweater-configuration. King among them are the turtlenecks.

I wear two types of turtlenecks, but there are probably three or four categories. By a considerable margin, the easiest to wear are lightweight turtlenecks of fine merino wool. These work especially well beneath navy blazers and tweed jackets where they appear casual because of the nature of the material (a knit), but cleanly delineated and somehow more serious than expected. It is a good look for a cool-headed antagonist—one who creates rather than follows rules, all while warding off the damp chill of his underground lair. At the other end of the spectrum are the heavyweights with texture or knitted patterns. These are worn on their own or, if outside in the real cold, a heavy overcoat or shell. The look is more hero-poet than bond-villain, but either are smart change-ups from the usual coat and tie. In between lightweight and heavyweight, however, is a no-mans-land of middleweights that are too bulky beneath jackets, but not substantial enough on their own. And lurking throughout are all manner of misguided variations: stubby-little mock turtlenecks, stitched-down faux rolls, droopy and feminine cowl necks. The real thing has a densely knit tube that doubles over on itself to create the clean, masculine band around the neck, accentuating the jawline and drawing attention to the face.

There are some practical matters to consider. Collars, of course, don’t work, which leaves the habitual shirt-wearer with two options: wear nothing, which is possible with the lightweight merino variety, or buy some closely fitting undershirts. Remember that turtlenecks are warm, and often too warm for crowded dining rooms or bars. Holiday parties in private homes seem like the correct venue, but all those roaring fireplaces and tankards of glühwein will have most men quickly overheating. I wear mine when I know I will be mostly outdoors—sporting events, long walks, picnics, visits to drafty museums, trick-or-treating with the kids, shopping at the farmer’s market. But the very best excuse for a turtleneck, as McQueen demonstrates so well, is a car chase. Short of that, a leisurely drive with the windows down will do fine.