Try to avoid ever buying a suit. The mere ownership of such a dull garment pushes you closer to a stuffy office with demanding bosses.

However, if someone selfishly dies or gets married and you must succumb, as I did last week, learn from my experience.

Firstly, don't waste time at Debenhams, Marks and Spencer or TK Maxx-imum hassle.

Stepping into Slaters, near St Enoch's Centre, is like stepping into the spiritual home of the suit.

If you can't get one to fit perfectly in this kingdom, you probably belong in a zoo.

Bring your mother along. For me, there was a post-graduation favour still fresh to be milked.

Also, as with when you bring home a girl, she will always be able to spot one that is too loose for her dear son.

Your Dad, on the other hand, will suggest you try Asda's £23 worth of "my first court case" suit. Leave him watching TV at home.

Go for black, charcoal or navy in a classic cut. This will be a Swiss army knife of suits, covering you for all weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs etc for the rest of your life.

Unless you are actually our man in Havana, or you live in a huge mansion in Columbia built from drug money, you can't justify a cream suit.

Use the hairdresser technique to select a shop-floor assistant to aid your search.

As you wouldn't settle down for a haircut if Fun House's mullet-king Pat Sharp was holding the scissors, don't allow a man in an ill-fitting suit to give you clothing advice.

And never trust a chap in a drastic pinstripe. Al Capone only got away with it because no-one had the guts to tell him he looked silly.

The eager assistant may tell you that once the sleeves and trousers are taken up, and the jacket and waistband taken in, the horribly ill-fitting suit you have on will fit like a glove.

This is akin to getting engaged to a girl in the hope she will lose 4st by the wedding. Never going to happen.

Finally, be aware there is a bit of physical contact involved in getting fitted.

Suppress the impulse to lash out or giggle when a male hand moves within a foot radius of your crotch. He's enjoying it even less than you.

And, however uncomfortable, don't crack a joke. He's heard it before.