Source: The Size of My Trousers
This is my first time so I hope you still respect me in the morning.
What do you need to know? 38yrs. Wife, two kids, overweight. Full time worker, part time university student because I didn’t do it right the first time around, but more of that another time.
It’s a nightmare getting trousers for work to fit. A few years ago I went looking for jeans in a well known high street shop whose name rhymes with text. There were about five different “styles” of fit to choose from including, bizarrely, “carrot”. Carrot? And there was twist and tailored and boot (OK, I know boot has been around for a while) and skinny. Skinny. I hate skinny fit. Not just because they don’t fit me. They stand for a quasi life style choice for the permanently thoughtless, thoughtless about things that matter anyway. The most pressing thing on a skinny fit boys (henceforth SFBs) mind is where he can get his next drink of designer lager and if he should fasten the top button on his t-shirt-which of course he should, and on his more formal shirt-which of course he should even though he isn’t wearing a tie. And if he was wearing a tie it would be a skinny one like the ones which were popular in the ’80’s but with out the sense of fun, and this does not mean I’m advocating the wearing of a piano keyboard themed tie. SFBs don’t seem to have much testosterone yet the majority can grow a full beard that Brian Blessed would look upon with envy, or have baby smooth, perfect skin. I’m not attacking the individual SFB here, I’m sure they are lovely men. In fact I know a couple of them and they are smashing blokes. To be frank, I’m probably a bit jealous that they can wear those types of clothes. It’s just that they are a product of a world which heaps pressure on men and women easily influenced by what they consume from the media. (When I’m in power, GQ and whatever the female equivalent is will be re-branded. They’ll be forced to write about how it’s cool to wear what you want in whatever time of year it is as long as your dressed appropriately say for a wedding, funeral, work, orgy, going out in the rain etc. And anyone who says the word “season” when referring to what to wear at what time of year-or about a serial television programme-thank you SKY-will be given community service making shoes for homeless people).
So, I was in the shop which rhymes with text and asked the shop assistant if they just had some normal, regularly fitting jeans. She looked at me as if I was speaking Taiwanese and that I was simple. She floated her hand over the display of “styles” like a game show host showing the contestants the brand new dishwasher they were completing for, with a sympathetic smile and her head cocked to one side. “Yeah, I know I can get these styles but none of them fit me” and off I went into a small, polite tirade about how they were clearly not a 34″ waist, or that the twist in the twist jeans made my legs feel like they were being screwed off very slowly and uncomfortably when I walked, the boot cut were like bell bottoms from the ’70’s, the skinny fit were just a ridiculous concept and what the hell was carrot fit anyway? She replied: “these are what men wear now, it’s what they like” What men wear now? Since when? And who decided? I didn’t like them, I’m a man (at least biologically speaking) and if I left that shop and did a survey I would have guaranteed to find at least 100 blokes who pined for just a normal pair of nice fitting, decent looking jeans to knock about in. At least 100 blokes who had thighs and calves wider than a milk bottle.
Today, I’ve been in to 6 separate shops looking for some new work trousers. Impossible. Some of them look like they are designed for boys who are slightly taller than the average boy of their age. It’s like shopping in Adams or Mothercare…
I’ve got loads I want to share. Rants. Advice. Pointless ramblings. All about being a modern man, growing up, growing outwards and sideways and that whole battle of the bulge thing, camaraderie, auto correct, social media, (concious of the potential for much irony) working for a living and other topics too numerous to mention (I can’t think of any more just yet) But don’t leave here thinking I’ve finished about work trousers and all that they entail, because I haven’t.