I came across one of those dreadful articles the other day “What Men should wear Over 40”. It sent me into a spiral of panic. I’m basically still wearing what Iv’e worn since I was in my late twenties ; Standard uniform of Stussy T and Jeans, with airmax 95’s. Only now I’m faced with the horrible truth, I’m getting a bit mutton.
Apparently I should be wearing a nice Oxford shirt, Chino’s and some Boating shoes. I should be distinguished, own a Blazer and a nice pair of Brogues – And wait for it – Skinny Jeans. Skinny Fucking Jeans, (was there ever a more emasculating item of clothing woven into existence.)
Even if I wanted to have a wardrobe overhaul I couldn’t fit into anything from the GQ Nazi HQ list of must have items. I used to be a Large, (I’m a 36 waist, oh alright 38) and I’m a 46 chest. I’m hefty, stocky, I spent ten years in the gym and it’s all heading south. So to my absolute horror I am now deemed an XXXL. That’s right triple fucking XL.
Apparently a friend of mine who works in the Rag trade put’s it down to the rise of the female designer – designing for Men. Women, he says, tend to design for what they desire, whilst men will design for what they need. No, that didn’t make any sense to me either but it came from the lips of a fashion professional so I just nodded and sighed in agreement.
Sexist nonsense aside, I have noticed over the last ten years that boys are being dressed more like girls. What’s wrong with that I hear you cry? Are you Gender conformist you moany old git? (Well no, trust me, quite the opposite. But that’s another story for another time) No, there’s just one problem, Men have different shaped bodies to Women. Whilst a woman may look adorable in slim fitting clothing, you can’t squeeze a 17 stone geezer into some jeggings. And don’t get me started on low cut t-shirts and Snoods.
You see, I am big, it’s the clothes that got smaller.
Well fuck it. I’m going to defiantly carry on wearing my trusted uniform of jeans and t-shirt. I don’t give a shit if I look like an old git trying to be cool. I am fucking cool, big fat fucking cool and if it just so happens that what I was wearing twenty years ago is suddenly down with the kids, I shall milk it for all it’s worth. Because there’s one big difference difference between me and a sixteen year old… I can fucking afford it.