Every comedy club contains two essentials: a microphone that’s slightly unreliable, and a comedian in a cardigan.
This is not an accident.
The cardigan was clearly invented for people who want to look harmless while delivering sharp observations about life, society, and their own emotional damage. Buttoned up, soft-edged, quietly reassuring — it says, “Trust me, I’m about to say something bold, but gently.”
The cardigan, legend has it, is for people who wanted the warmth of a jumper without the commitment of pulling it over their head. Early adopters included librarians, substitute teachers, and inevitably comedians who needed somewhere discreet to stash notes, anxiety, and emergency mints.
Comedians quickly realised the power of knitwear. You can roast politics, relationships, or capitalism itself, but if you’re wearing a cardigan the audience thinks: “Well, they seem nice.” It’s basically a consent form in wool.
Behind the scenes, cardigans serve many vital functions: absorbing nerves, hiding sweat, offering something to clutch when a punchline wobbles, and allowing a dramatic unbuttoning to signal confidence.
Today’s comedians may tackle big subjects – identity, inequality, the price of cheese – but the cardigan remains a loyal companion.
Now it comes in bolder colours, oversized fits, and ironic patterns that scream: “I thrifted this, and yes, it is part of the bit.”
The modern cardigan says:
“I’m relatable.” “I have a podcast.”
“I will make you laugh, then gently ruin your worldview.”
Fashion trends come and go, but the cardigan remains — cosy, dependable, and forever associated with people brave enough to stand on stage and confess their worst thoughts for laughs.
A few of my favourite comedians in cardigans that come to mind include Toby Hadoke, Rich Wilson, Eshaan Akbar, Andy Barr, Danny Ward and Jon Richardson.
So next time you see a comedian in a cardigan, remember: they’re not just dressed for comfort. They’re wearing 200 years of comedic tradition, emotional resilience, and at least one spare button.
Long live the cardigan: comedy’s softest suit of armour.