Above is a scene from this week, at the supermarket – note rugby shorts. Below are scenes from the 1970s – note the stubbies.
Some people never learn.
A public place
The supermarket is hardly a social occasion, or the catwalk. Sometimes it’s more like a dog-show, or a police line-up.
But it is a public place, somewhere on the scale of busyness between downtown at rush-hour and a pub at opening hour. It’s not your backyard, or the beach, or a kids’ sports game.
Way back, I imagine fashion mavens would have been sniffing down their powdered noses in royal courts with a “sacré bleu”. This here is a modern Dads’ version.
I’m not saying tweezer yer nose-hairs and wax yer eye-brows before going supermarket shopping.
But there’s plenty of blokes who with a bit of effort manage the summer shorts t-shirt and sandals outfit fairly well.
So please leave the rugby shorts at home, and warn me in advance if you’re wielding them to a gathering.