Ridicule is nothing to be scared of

Well blog readers, today I have a rare treat for you. A couple of weeks back I invited hubby dearest to write a guest post for my blog on a topic of his choice, here it is, and don't forget to let us know what you think in the comments section below, or tweet him directly @majoreejit

When my wife, the lovely Princess Prudence, asked me to consider writing a guest blog post recently, my first thoughts were what could I write that could possibly be of interest to her many followers.
Now…I could wax lyrical about politics, current affairs, photography, art; all topics that get me exercised and which invite opinion. However, one topic seduced me above all others – the topic of men’s fashion, or to be precise, how men are induced to conform to someone else’s view about what they should be wearing.

I can fully understand the need for young men, in particular, to feel that they should conform and fit in. Staying on trend is the safest way to avoid making mistakes. To err is to invite ridicule and, when one has not got the confidence of years, ridicule is the mother of inferiority, exclusion and prolonged virginity.

Safety in numbers. Better fashionable than celibate.

I wonder how many ‘gangstas’ today realise the origin of their ‘jeans below the arse’ look? In the US penitentiary system, guys who preferred Arthur to Martha advertised their ‘availability’ to potential suitors with underwear at full mast and trousers at half mast!

Kids eh – what do they know? Surely an older man could not be enticed so easily by the fashion industry? Well, where I live in Coventry, England, the obligatory short-sleeved shirt (or football top) over jeans with trainers is an absolute fanny magnet to the herds of bleached blonde, perma-tanned, bare-midriffed debutantes with special papal dispensation to wear the thick part of their legs below their knees and the humped parts of their chests on their backs.

Those with more money than sense read the gospels of GQ and Esquire for enlightenment. In such publications, one may see a suit (a mere snip at £1,000) or a watch for the paltry sum of £30,000. Such staples are no longer the preserve of Tory toffs, bankers or Colonel Gaddafi’s extended family (or at least the magazines would have you believe that you too could afford such trinkets).

Surely the internet provides the solution for Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece-jacket? Style Gurus with style bibles – what could possibly go wrong? I checked out a few. Oh dear! Yet more advice on how to get laid (read conform) by wearing the right clothes. This priceless gem came from one of the sites – apparently these are the staples a man should have in his wardrobe:

• Plain white boxers and plain black socks
• Blue jeans that fit well
• A plain white t-shirt
• A black turtleneck sweater
• A white shirt
• A good navy blue suit
• A pair of black shoes and a pair of brown shoes
• A dark-coloured thick wool overcoat.

There you have it – very black and white (well, except for the blue suit and brown shoes).

Perhaps the answer lies with the fashion industry? Hmmm. Some designers have clearly mastered the art of how to make a man look like a dickhead (take a peek below):

Admittedly, some designers do get things right but with a price tag to match their egos. What is a man to do? Is old the new way? Why be a sheep when one could be a wolf? Vintage!

So I will leave you with this thought - if you want safety in numbers, choose number one. Individuality is the Golden Fleece.

As Adam Ant once said – “ridicule is nothing to be scared of”.

Portrait of an Individual