This is practical!
One glaring thing about London (and possibly elsewhere in the UK) is that many young women dress like – well - trollops. The latest fashion seems to be black stockings, or leggings, with very short skirts or shorts – and in many cases what looks like underwear worn on the outside.
This is coupled with the desire to show the maximum amount of flesh and – ahem – cleavage.
I was going to write about this but decided that I am totally out of my depth and just do not understand any of it.
It is like Ugg boots in summer. Incomprehensible and inexplicable – but if it is fashionable that is all that matters.
My experience has been that young women would wear absolutely anything in the name of fashion.
I have noticed recently that 'pre-stressed' jeans have been taken over by 'already deceased' jeans. The new models look like they have been removed from bodies following massive explosions. Or alternatively wrestled from the mouths of Alligators and then washed with gravel and soot in a cement mixer.
And no – they do not give these away – I saw some in a shop in Vienna for more than €200.
That is a lot of money for a pair of pants that formerly belonged to a successful suicide bomber.
I guess the Alligators are expensive to keep – they need to give them something to eat besides jeans.
But what would I know. I used to wear a nylon tie with bell-bottomed pants, an iridescent green shirt and shoes that Goofy would have been proud of. There was no danger of me being hit by a car when I was staggering home from the pub. You could have seen me from space.
Today my wardrobe consists almost entirely of black T-shirts and blue jeans – with an Italian leather jacket. I consider this to be understated and cool. I have not dared asked for an opinion from anyone else – although Cate often sighs when she sees me ‘dressed up’ to go out.
And another thing. I discovered to my great horror recently that a slang term for a delicate and furry part of a woman’s anatomy is not only ‘Beaver’ but also ‘Badger’.
Llama told me this in Italy and I was of course shocked to the core. It has made me question my whole identity.
Is nothing sacred?