In the long puritanical grossout that is Robert Eggers' The Witch, Satan-in-goat-form poses a virginal blonde with one very meme-able question: "Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?" He may have asked me - another famous virginal blonde - the same thing over the Easter weekend. I answered not with words, but deeds. I went to a club where they scan your ID. I got home at sunrise. I ordered three Deliveroos. I trawled Wikipedia for the entire architectural history of communist Bulgaria. But the most delicious thing of all? A walk in the park in some vintage Hilfiger and diamond-white jeans, coffee in hand, sinful pride overflowing.

There is something inherently both precious and precarious about white jeans. The margin for error - an irremovable stain, a coffee drip, an unknown smudge - is great. And with one besmirchment, the whole thing comes tumbling down. Bad news for clumsy boys like me. So why then, despite the risk, did it feel so exquisite? White denim doesn't have anything extra special over regular jeans; the cotton has either been bleached, or just left undyed. But the pull lies in the risk. And if testosterone likes anything, it's risk (yes, the board game, but also the hard rush of doing something that could end in catastrophe).

By the same token, that might be why some guys can be so avoidant. Reddit is awash with fear, as is its wont - and that leads to haters. "Seems like a young man's game," one user wrote. "That look hasn't been on trend for 40 years," said another. Then, finally, some sense: "Idk why this sub has become so conservative about fashion."

Think of the cleanness, though; the many men who have pulled it off. In one corner, you've got Bad Bunny pairing it with a white T-shirt and loafers. Nearby is Nicholas Hoult with a vest and matching bleached hair. There's the eternal moodboard fodder in Steve McQueen, white jeans on (good), gun in hand (bit alarming). Then you had JFK Jr in some extra-widers that, for some insane reason, never got a spin on Love Story. And listen: I'm of the strong belief that white denim is far easier to wear than a backwards Kangol cap.

The jeans don't have to be diamond white. If you're scared (and that's OK!), cream, ivory and very Farrow & Ball-sounding shades like ecru, taupe and buttermilk can help pare things down. Also, consider your complexion. Like me, you may oscillate between mahogany cabinet and Casper the Friendly Ghost; for paler times, avoid white denim with pitch-black jackets. The effect can be a bit sentient zebra crossing. Instead, keep diluting the white: light blue denim works, grey works, chocolatey brown feels very, very expensive (I don't know why, it just gives off the energy of a wayward Milanese tycoon's son - I don't make the rules). And, as always, focus on fit. Go big and boxy if you're bold and tall. Otherwise, straight, slightly wide and just roomy enough will work. As a rule of thumb, you should easily be able to get a hand in and around the thigh of your denim; if you're struggling, it may be too tight.

Then, when summer comes in, you can lose the jacket entirely. For all the divisions, white denim can provide a versatile base. It can pop under grimy Cobain-coded T-shirts. It can go full yachty with a breezy striped Oxford. It can do, really, whatever you want.

Yes, wearing immaculate denim to a Peckham techno night is the devil's work. But for a dry walk in the park looking like I summer on Nantucket with my third wife? The temptation is too delicious, my Lord.

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