Humor: Hey son, give me back my trousers

Hey son, give me back my trousers

I have no idea why I have never been head-hunted for a position as a fashion consultant.

Possibly it is because I think fashion crazes are confidence tricks.

Call me cynical, but I think they are designed to make money for the movers and shakers and con people in the fashion industry.

Boss: "We seem to have 100,000 excess pink and yellow teapot cosies in our storeroom. What are we going to do with them?"

Fashion designer: "No worries. We can market them as hats and tell the customers that they're all the rage in Paris right now."

Thankfully, I have not seen too many human teapots in my neighbourhood lately.

I have, however, seen countless male teenagers dressed in oversized trousers, sloppy sports jumpers, boots and beanies.

What's wrong with that?

Well, it would be perfectly OK if we were in depths of winter and they were simply trying to keep warm.

But it has been swelteringly hot here in Canberra and I have to feel sorry for anyone whose head is encased in a woollen beanie and whose feet are encased in big, heavy boots just because some fashion guru has decreed them to be fashionable.
I stop short of calling the young men Stupid. Gullible. Sheep-like.
I guess they just want to look hot.
Mission accomplished. They look very bloody hot.

I can understand where they are coming from, I guess.

I was a teenager once so I know something about the generation gap and a teenager's desire to be different.

My father had short hair. I had long hair.
My father wore sombre grey suits. I had a loud purple suit.
He had thin, dark ties. I had wide ties adorned with pictures of coconut trees and naked ladies.

But never, ever, ever did I borrow any of his clothes.

So what is it with the oversized trousers I see so often?

They must be three to four sizes too big.

"Hey, kid," I feel like saying. "Why don't you give your father back his trousers? He needs them more than you right now. But don't worry. One day he will die, and you will inherit them. Legally. And I promise you will grow into them by middle-age."

I have to stress, I never actually say this.

Mostly, the young men are on skateboards and are simply too fast to get away.

Funny that. You'd think they'd covet my trousers now that I have a middle-aged girth.

I guess they are just wary of me because I wear a very fashionable pink and yellow teapot cosy on my head nowadays.

NB: I called this site Dunno because I kept drawing a blank when I had to put a name to it