LONDON - JUMPERS MAKETH THE MAN

More than anyone we know, the illustrator Ted Pearce loves scouring charity shops and eBay for horrible jumpers that people have died in. When he's poncing around at gallery openings as a Team Mega Mix DJ, Ted will, without fail, be sporting a piece from his massive collection of garish knitwear. Here we quiz him about his obsession…

Vice: Hey Ted. So, jumpers?
Ted Pearce: Yep. I love them. They have a very calming effect on every aspect of my life.

Are the jumpers a Jewish thing? Your Judaism is another central part of your life.
No, but they are all kosher.

What makes a great jumper?
Bright colours and animals. I've cultivated a woolly menagerie: from my all-time favourite - the parrots on a branch - to some owls on the moon, squirrels, horses and a few dogs. I once lost a bid on some monkeys climbing trees that went for £50, and a fox and a pheasant by a river that went for £30. That one was a peach. They looked so peaceful. The main hole in the collection is reindeer, but they're really expensive.

How much do they usually go for?
On average, a tenner. The £5 ones are a gamble. The parrots were more but I had to have them and the Liquorice Allsorts were approaching £50 but again that one was a no-brainer.

Do any of them have any meaning or personal significance?
Someone once told me that the owls on the moon make me look like I steal my clothes from children's pyjama piles. But they're just fucking jumpers, dude. What are you talking about meaning for?

What would you say the total collection, number and value, stands at?
Total? About 250 jumpers. Value? Priceless.

Do the jumpers help you get laid?
They're a great talking point but they transform you into a bit of a granddad figure. They lower the threat level so you have to be rude to balance it out. Or maybe I am just rude.

JOHN C. RAVEN