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‘eave ‘alf a brick at ‘im

Harlow Carr - I ran out of ideas

After work, which was another busy day, I went shopping in Waitrose. Now, for those of you who aren’t attuned to the ways of the English, this may mean nothing, but the Brits will all be nodding wisely. They know that I’m a natural TESCO shopper and not a good match with the upper classes that inhabit the aisles of Waitrose.

I like to shop there now and again to add a bit of variety to our diet, and a bit of variety to my life.

To be honest, it felt like I’d wandered into the middle of National Dress Like an Idiot Day. Well, I didn’t think “idiot” – feel free to substitute your own if you feel the need for something stronger.

Considering that I often look like I dressed in the dark, I don’t generally comment on the clothing of others, but today I just had to say something.

There were quite a few 40-year-olds dressed like teenagers and a number of women dressed like they’d just stepped off their country estates. There were other poor sartorial decisions too, but one stood out. It wasn’t just a crime against fashion, but probably a crime against humanity.

The perpetrator was  around sixty, taller than me and badly shaved. He was wearing jeans with turn-ups, red socks and white sneakers. Add an overcoat, a flat cap and a pair of glasses that looked like welder’s goggles. I didn’t even see his shirt, but it was probably hideous.

He looked like a refugee from London Fashion Week, or some similar pit of …er…individualistic dressing.

For some reason I’m thinking of this cartoon.

 

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