Undressing a man has always been challenging, not just for the poor lads themselves but for women. Unless he starts stripping off like one of the Chippendales (a dubious choice), he is left with only one technique. And this utilitarian, kit-off-as-fast-as-you-can-by-candle-light option creates the danger of a passion-dampening trouser-waddle, or even a stumble and collapse.

Understandably, the poor, eager loves have trouble unbuttoning with any panache as they approach the height of passion. So, as Valentine’s Day nears, here are a few tips for the undressing man – or the lucky woman undressing him.

I’ll begin with my favourite attire: black-tie. As a formalist, I approve of its architectural lines (white-tie is even better) – a well-cut suit can create an erotic silhouette from the most challenging of physiques. It is the zenith of power dressing, and dead sexy when worn with just a tinge of irony. The personification of this is Daniel Craig in Casino Royale – rough trade wrapped up in Savile Row, with an incredulous gleam in his eye.

So, after a long night of hobnobbing with CEOs over a three-course banquet, then rolling out of the BMW with wife/girlfriend/recently seduced PA in tow, our boy in black-tie finds himself feeling about as sexy as an overfed king penguin in a circus ring. An immediate easing of the circumference is required.

For the male undressing himself, I suggest first a subtle unbuttoning of the jacket. Then, with a blasé shrug of the shoulders, slip off the jacket and throw it on a well-placed chair, even though it may well be an expensive suit. This suggests that, despite your stitched-up appearance, you are capable of wild abandonment.

(Note to fastidious men: there is nothing less sexy than a lover fussing over his creased lapels while his partner, draped over the bed, is left contemplating her pedicure.)

For the woman undressing the man: after unbuttoning the jacket, stand behind your partner and, with both hands grasping the lapels (indicating that you are at the wheel now), ease off the jacket and drape it carefully over the nearest ottoman while still nibbling his left ear.

The next thing to come off is the tie. Personally, I love ties. A man in a suit and tie is like a surprise present with a ribbon around it. And what girl doesn’t love surprises?

Of course, whether one is undressing or undresser, it is compulsory to be practised in undoing the knot, so the act can be choreographed into a lingering caress of silk against starched cotton. The secret is to look confident and maintain eye contact, thus distracting attention from your fumbling fingers.

If the fumbling goes on for too long with no result, the best option is the lowered-knot technique. For the woman doing the undressing, this will involve giving him a smouldering look while creating sufficient slack before the knot turns into an impenetrable lump, then looping the tie over his head. If you get really desperate, just resort to nail scissors.

For the urbane male undressing himself, a quick yank on the offending accessory can be quite sexy, indicating a bullish impatience to cut to the chase.

Thankfully, bow ties are less challenging and, tied correctly, should not present like little silk Rubik’s cubes. Some versions (admittedly less desirable) even have hooks and eyes. Women take note: the top button should be undone at the same time as the tie, releasing the Adam’s apple and the lower octave.

By now our rapidly sobering hero stands resplendent in cummerbund (possibly), shirt, socks and trousers. The cummerbund comes off next. Here he should breathe in, rip off the garment and allow it to slip teasingly to the floor. Do not pick it up or slide it under the bed with your foot.

If you are the female in this scenario, I suggest an embrace around the girth. Using this as an alibi, unhook the cummerbund from behind. The rotund will love you for it, the svelte will see it as homage to their athleticism – and it places you in a great position for the next stage: unbuttoning the shirt.

Black-tie involves three shirt studs with a couple of buttons above and below. Here our semi-clad hero manfully and swiftly undoes the studs (hesitation could be seen as stage fright).

Alternatively, with the top button already undone, our girl could always slide down the torso to remove the three shirt studs with her mouth. However, as these can be set with diamonds, the traditional route is probably safer if you don’t want to end up in the Royal Brompton, awaiting an X-ray.

Shirt off, our gallant of the trading floor now stands bare-chested in trousers, shoes and socks.

Shoes come off next, ladies. To avoid kneeling, I suggest wrapping a leg around his and easing off the shoes with your foot. This is possible because, earlier that evening and at the risk of appearing continental, our strategic rake donned laceless shoes. If you are the man, slip off each shoe deftly by using your toes.

Now, at last, we arrive at the moment when even the most alluring disrobing can collapse into a mise en scène with all the seductive oomph of a Topman changing room at sale time. Yes, it’s how, artfully, to remove the socks before the trousers. This is vital. Fail, and you are both confronted with sock against denuded leg. Passion dies.

One recommended method developed by my better half is this: after quickly unzipping (gentlemen please note: labouring over the fly will make you look coy, narcissistic or merely perverse), hook your thumbs into the waistband of your trousers and, with one smooth motion, pull them off. Hook your socks on the way down. This may be slightly inelegant, but it works.

As we approach full disclosure, let me digress on the subject of the lower undergarment. A discerning gay friend of mine is completely convinced that no gay man ever wears boxer shorts. On the other hand, he says, if I am ever faced with a disrobing man who reveals a pair of conventional briefs, I should assume automatically that he is gay.

As it happens, I disagree. What with the emergence of the metrosexual, the postmetrosexual and the current recession, there is a new defiance in the heterosexual community when it comes to advertising the family jewels. And why not? After all, the Tudors wore massive codpieces.

No matter how confident about his tackle a man is, though – even if he is David Beckham – I strongly suggest that boxers, briefs, G-strings and loincloths should all be whipped off with the socks.