STRIPES ARE THE NEW PLAIN

It was my birthday recently. Someone bought me socks.

They obviously don't know me very well because they are long socks. I always wear ankle length.

They are made from 71% Cotton, 26% Polyester and 3% Elastane. They clearly didn't know I always wear 100% Cotton.

Worse still, they are striped. Surely they realise I only ever wear plain.

They didn't buy them from Marks and Spencer. I always buy my socks from them.

When I say 'long socks' they are actually boot socks. I'm wearing boots and the new socks work well with them.

The material works perfectly to keep my feet feeling comfortable but not too hot.

As for the stripes. My wife said they look great. Then she said 'Wearing stripy socks is one way for older people to have fun'.

Perhaps the person who gave me them knows me so well that she felt I was stuck in my ways and needed livening up.

Anyway, I'm off out to flash my socks in public. I know how to have a good time. 

MOONSHADES

I'm a huge fan of the actor Idris Elba. 

He's just been parading round with his co-stars at the premiere of his latest film 'Thor' and I watched him being interviewed on the red carpet.

Now this was all at night so therefore in total darkness, well after the sun had gone down. 

He was wearing sunglasses. 

Now before you scoff, I've been considering the fact that there are several rational reasons for why he was wearing sunglasses at night. For instance -

1. He suffers with eye pain under bright lights.

2. It was his tribute to Stevie Wonder.

3. He'd forgotten he was wearing them.

4. He has a contractual agreement with his agent who insists that he wears them to look cool.

5. He was suffering from temporary blindness.

6. He was hoping no-one would notice him.

Whatever the reason, I absolutely do not accept that he was wearing them because he was being a twit.

UPON MY SOLE

T-shirts were made with place names on them from as long ago as the early 1950's. The idea was to show everyone where you had been for your holiday. No doubt there were many who wore them to suggest they had been for an exotic holiday when in reality, they'd never gone further than Scunthorpe.

Then in the 1980's, some bright spark had the notion to put messages on your chest. These could be humorous,  protestations or perhaps adverts for pop bands or even simply the clothing manufacturer.

A few examples of ones which have caught my eye are

For her:

"My eyes are up here" (across her bosom with an arrow pointing upwards)

For him:
(Displayed on his back when riding a Harley Davidson no doubt) "If you can read this the bitch fell off"

For an ugly version of either sex:
"Drink 'til you want me"

For a very fat version of either sex:
"I beat anorexia"

The latest trend however, is for shoes to have messages to the wearer. My wife has shoes which bear the message inside them "Your feet look gorgeous".

I await the version for men's shoes -
"Your feet stink mate".

MODEL SHOPPER?

Oh no I've done it again! I swore I wouldn't repeat the mistake but there I was in the supermarket wearing something which I'd bought there. 

You do feel such a plonker standing there by a rack of the same item you're wearing as if you were somehow modelling it. 

Worse still they might think I'd slipped it on and whipped off the labels so I could do a runner without paying. Though I suppose I could point out the wine stain on the front of my item in mitigation.

In this case I was wearing the same baggy sweater as the row of them before me which mercifully hadn't gone down in price - that would have been even more galling. Actually, come to think of it, the ones on the rack weren't baggy-looking - funny that.

Anyway, I really won't do this again. Far from offering me a job as a male model for their clothes, I think it far more likely that they would call me quietly to the side and politely ask if I wouldn't mind standing well away from the sweater rack since they hoped to sell some.

I know my limitations.  

THE BOTTOM LINE

Mooning: To expose one's buttocks suddenly and publicly either as a prank or as a gesture of disrespect. 

But why is it called 'mooning'? Well some would say that it is because the buttocks are a bit sort of moon shaped. Others say it is because the buttocks are normally not seen - just as the moon is not normally seen in the day but emerges at night. So mooning is to expose what is normally not seen.

Bare with me. Sorry I mean bear with me.

 

Most of us know that the crescent moon is also known as 'hunter's' moon since it looks a bit like an archer's bow. A full moon is also known as a harvest moon since it occurs close to the Autumn equinox when the harvest takes place. You may not have known that an almost but not quite full moon is called 'gibbous'. 

I have always thought that 'builder's bum' was the (inadvertent) exposure of the top of the crack. You know what I mean - don't play dumb. The point of my scribbling is that I am horrified to report that during my trip into town today I encountered not one but two separate examples of bum exposure, both by females, and both clearly not inadvertent.

These two experiences have left an indelible imprint on my brain not only because the buttocks in question desperately needed to be kept covered up (believe me on this) but also because in both cases we are not talking of crescent moons but utterly gibbous moons only just short of the harvest version. 

I will stop there because I need to go and lie down in a dark room for a while.

KILLER HEELS

Apparently there is a new ladies shoe which is the talk of the town and yet it isn't even in production yet.

Let us try to discover why these shoes will be a must-buy item for women next year.

It's not the price because they won't be cheap. Rumour has it that they will cost at least £75 a pair.

It's not their looks because in my humble opinion they look a bit silly. I suppose that beauty is in the eye of the beholder but for me the concave heel is not a good-looking feature.

It's surely not their name - the 'Antelope' shoe. "I'm just off to put on my Antelopes dear". Not exactly cool is it?

It's not their comfort because they are designed to be uncomfortable. How? Because...

...they are unstable. The heel is deliberately designed to move so that it causes the wearer to totter about.

So why will these shoes sell well?

The answer is that because the wearer feels unsafe, they will have to put a lot of effort into keeping their balance. Using up that effort will, so they claim, cause the wearer to drop a dress size if they wear them for a month.

So the only downside seems to be that after a few months, you may die of anorexia. That's killer heels for you.

REALITY CHECK

Generally speaking, like most people I imagine, I like to keep abreast of fashion.

Where clothes are concerned, I have for instance, embraced cuban heels and winkle pickers, bell-bottoms and drainpipe trousers, kipper ties and donkey jackets.

Turning to household fads and fashion, I remember being swayed by the trend to having bathroom suites in dark colours. I seem to recall that 'Pampas' and 'Avocado' were all the rage back in the 60's and 70's.

There are some modern trends however which are so repugnant that I shall be shunning them like the plague. I shall not for instance, be leaving the house with my trousers rolled up at the bottom. The only time in my life when I have done that is to go for a paddle on the beach.

With regard to home interiors, they have come up with an idea which sadly, seems to be catching on. It is a notion so sick and depraved that it fills me with horror. I refer to 'faux food'. You must have seen it. First there was fake fruit in bowls which were so lifelike that you were in great risk of breaking a tooth as you succumbed to temptation and took a bite out of a delicious looking pear.

Worst of all, we now have cup cake stands with a few temptingly placed cup cakes on them made I assume, of plaster of paris or the like. This is sheer torture.

Rest assured that if you visit my home any food on display will be edible, not for display purposes. Mind you, the fact that I haven't already eaten it would suggest that it could be well past its best before date so be warned.

IN A BYGONE TEEN AGE

November 6th 1957 may not have been a particularly special day in the history of the world apart, of course, from the release of the Elvis Presley film 'Jailhouse Rock', but it was a pretty big day in the history of the Letts household. It was the day on which I became a teenager.

I had been preparing for this for some time and had for instance, already mastered the art of the five morning week by surfacing after midday at weekends.

Now that teenagedom was officially proclaimed, I started work on the scruffy image associated with youths my age and this had the not unexpected result of attracting comments from my parents along the lines of

"You don't think you're leaving the house looking like that do you?"

This usually meant returning to my bedroom and making a few slight adjustments to satisfy Mum and Dad's requirements of my image.

Having recently observed a group of teenagers loitering locally with no intent whatever, it occurs to me that they never had it so good. I would have stood no chance of leaving home looking the way they do now.

Indeed it strikes me that a few parental comparisons are in order.

1957: "Pull your trousers up - I can almost see your pants".

2011: "Push your trousers down - I didn't buy you those Calvin Klein pants for your birthday so you'd hide them".

1957: "You'll have to change those trousers. There's a hole in them".

2011: "Would you like me to make a few more holes in those distressed jeans?"

1957: "Oh dear. I think you need a new pair of shoes. Those are badly worn".

2011: "You need to scuff those trainers up they look brand new".

1957: "Tuck your shirt in".

2011: "Pull your shirt out".

and don't even start me going on the hairstyles.

Jealous? Moi?

SPEAKING BLUNTLY

As far as fashion is concerned I think my family would describe me as 'well-trained'. After a few errors and a gently sloping learning curve I have the basics sorted. I know not to leave the house wearing 'crocs'. I know not to wear socks if I'm wearing sandals. I don't wear a medallion. I've thrown out all my jeans and replaced them with 'boot-cut' versions and I know I'm not allowed to wear cardigans unless I call them 'fleeces' or maybe 'knitwear'.

Being fashionable however, is a whole different ball game. Current trends change so frequently that it's hard to keep up. I mean is it OK to be seen in public with a mobile phone which isn't an i-phone? Is it cool to keep a baby pig instead of a cat or just plain stupid? Is it safe to go into McDonald's if you're a male over 25 or will you be regarded as a prospective pervert?

You're pretty safe with opposing the government, hating bankers and recycling everything I suppose and of course it's quite safe not to like James Blunt. Or is it?

I have recently become intimately acquainted with one of his songs (shhh - don't tell my kids). It's called 'Carry you home' - have a listen. Yes, it's sad. It is also absolutely beautiful. It's apparently about a young woman who becomes so depressed that suicide seems the only solution. That is right on the current trend button. We have lost so many young people in this way in recent times.

But basically it's about a young girl dying - sung by someone who cares. A mother who's young daughter is dying of cancer, has asked me to learn it and sing it to her. The lyrics are poignant and so pertinent. 'Someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight.' 'I'm watching you breathing for the last time'.

So Mr. Blunt may be unfashionable, but here is my confession - I like his song and I respect his talent. There - I'm 'out'.

I just hope I'm given the strength not to choke when I'm singing the song to her.

FASHION DISASTER

My wife Sally is heavily interested in fashion. She often tells me that her ideal job would be to act as someone's personal shopper, assisting them to find clothes which best suit them.

She of course, needs no assistance to find clothes which best suit her and the groaning wardrobes attest to that fact. When I first met her I was amused to discover that she would regularly come home with £200 worth of clothes, try them all on, then take £120 worth back to Marks & Spencers.

She treats each day as a challenge. In fact the day begins the night before as she plans her wardrobe for tomorrow's work day. Having carefully checked the weather forecast, various potential outfits are strewn over the bed until she comes up with the perfect combination to suit the weather and to catch the eye as she strolls down the catwalk office corridor.

Imagine my surprise then as having waved her off to work as normal, she came flying back into the house half an hour later all of a lather. As she raced upstairs, the hurried, breathless explanation cascaded down behind her.

It transpires that there is another woman at Sally's work called Jane who is totally different from Sally in that she cares not a jot what she wears to work. Her everyday outfit is the company fleece, blue jeans and trainers which she consistently wears as a comfortable 'uniform'. On this day however, the managers were having a special event and Jane wanted to make a special effort for it. She had therefore shed the fleece, jeans and trainers and had donned her high heels, a pencil skirt and as you may have guessed, the identical top to Sally - every woman's worst nightmare!

Of course the men in the office thought this was hilarious and proceeded to call Sally and Jane by each others names. This drove Jane to don her fleece to cover up and she slipped quickly into the grumps. Sally therefore proceeded to save the day by rushing home and changing her top. So my Wonder-woman saved the day.

I'm betting that Jane will be back in her fleece tomorrow.

FULL FRONTAL FASHION

So M&S have kicked up a storm by adding a £2 surcharge to bras larger than DD cup. This provoked outrage among generously proportioned women and M&S caved in to the pressure. Of course, there were also countless articles in the papers on the subject with 'M&S boobs' jokes in abundance. Fear not dear reader. You will find no pathetic jokes like that here. I am above such levels of titillation.

One of these writers was ranting on about how women's fashions are designed to show off their mammary glands and how dreadful it would be if men's fashions were designed to show off their genitalia!

I beg to differ. It wasn't that long ago when men's fashion did exactly that in the form of the codpiece. Of course these became ever longer and thicker as their wearers sought to outdo their friends in attracting the ladies. No doubt they fell from grace as a mode of fashion when said ladies, having succumbed to these tailoring temptations, removed the codpiece to reveal a tiny caterpillar within.

So I suggest we bring back the codpiece but learn from the mistakes of our ancestors and keep them to a modest size. Perhaps this could be enforced by law with codpiece wardens comparing them to a maximum size model. Think about it. There would be many advantages to men wearing codpieces. Not least, as in the illustration, that dogs would find it easier to see where to put their noses!