I was standing behind my son the other day looking with slight annoyance at his Calvin Klein boxer shorts sticking out at the top of his trousers. The desire to lean forward, grab his trousers, yank them up and then wrestle him to the ground whilst I tuck his shirt in neatly, comb his hair and wash behind his ears was only tempered by the knowledge that the lad is now physically stronger than me and I would probably end up with my trouser halfway down and my own Marks and Spencer Y-Fronts on display!
It did get me wondering though. How is it that each generation of teenagers seems to find something that annoys their parents, even though their parents were convinced that they had seen it all?
I remember the look of disdain my father would give me as I prepared to go out partying in the Seventies. I had two main outfits. One was a whilte suit, purple silk shirt, white shoes, with a 5-inch afro and dark glasses. The other was a purple suit, white silk shirt, purple shoes, with a 5-inch afro and dark glasses. I looked awesome. The ladies couldn't keep their eyes off me (I believe). I looked cooooooool.
As a car full of boys, similarly dressed, pulled up and I strode out of my room, my father looked on with what I thought was admiration and envy, but with the benefit of hindsight I suspect may have been sadness and pity. I think to him it was rather like me emerging dressed as a clown, with huge comedy shoes and a big red nose. But, hey, what did he know!
Fast forward 30 years and my son emerges in jeans that are way too skinny, his underwear on full display, a Gola bag around his shoulder containing goodness knows what (all I know is that it clinks when he runs), juggling multiple phones. I look on and shake my head. Why can't he wear a decent, white three-piece suit with matching shoes? By the way, did I mention my white waistcoat? That made the outfit. Ladies would literally faint when they saw my waistcoat (I believe).
But this got me wondering what the next generation are going to do. What are my grandsons going to wear that will cause my pant-displaying son to shake his head with annoyance? Perhaps they will go out without trousers at all, simply wearing a t-shirt tucked into their underwear! But isn't that what the youth of today do at their summer festivals? I don't think that will shock them.
I think it will go the other way.
I expect that my grandsons will saunter out of the house to their parties in top hat and tails. Swishing canes and twiddling monocles. Boys from inner city estates will put on fake posh accents. I can see it now.
"Oi, Carl, where are you going at this time of night?" says tracksuit wearing Dad as he lies on the sofa, slurping special brew.
"Forsooth, Pater, I and my merry chums are off to the theatre. And please, would you be so kind as to call me Torquil? Anyway, must fly old chap, Tarquin and Samantha have just arrived in the carriage. Toodle-Pip"
Father shakes his head sadly. What is the world coming to? Can't he just put on a pair of skinny jeans, put his underwear on display and be done with it? Soooo annoying
It did get me wondering though. How is it that each generation of teenagers seems to find something that annoys their parents, even though their parents were convinced that they had seen it all?
I remember the look of disdain my father would give me as I prepared to go out partying in the Seventies. I had two main outfits. One was a whilte suit, purple silk shirt, white shoes, with a 5-inch afro and dark glasses. The other was a purple suit, white silk shirt, purple shoes, with a 5-inch afro and dark glasses. I looked awesome. The ladies couldn't keep their eyes off me (I believe). I looked cooooooool.
As a car full of boys, similarly dressed, pulled up and I strode out of my room, my father looked on with what I thought was admiration and envy, but with the benefit of hindsight I suspect may have been sadness and pity. I think to him it was rather like me emerging dressed as a clown, with huge comedy shoes and a big red nose. But, hey, what did he know!
Fast forward 30 years and my son emerges in jeans that are way too skinny, his underwear on full display, a Gola bag around his shoulder containing goodness knows what (all I know is that it clinks when he runs), juggling multiple phones. I look on and shake my head. Why can't he wear a decent, white three-piece suit with matching shoes? By the way, did I mention my white waistcoat? That made the outfit. Ladies would literally faint when they saw my waistcoat (I believe).
But this got me wondering what the next generation are going to do. What are my grandsons going to wear that will cause my pant-displaying son to shake his head with annoyance? Perhaps they will go out without trousers at all, simply wearing a t-shirt tucked into their underwear! But isn't that what the youth of today do at their summer festivals? I don't think that will shock them.
I think it will go the other way.
I expect that my grandsons will saunter out of the house to their parties in top hat and tails. Swishing canes and twiddling monocles. Boys from inner city estates will put on fake posh accents. I can see it now.
"Oi, Carl, where are you going at this time of night?" says tracksuit wearing Dad as he lies on the sofa, slurping special brew.
"Forsooth, Pater, I and my merry chums are off to the theatre. And please, would you be so kind as to call me Torquil? Anyway, must fly old chap, Tarquin and Samantha have just arrived in the carriage. Toodle-Pip"
Father shakes his head sadly. What is the world coming to? Can't he just put on a pair of skinny jeans, put his underwear on display and be done with it? Soooo annoying
1 comment:
I suggest most strongly that you buy him a whilte suit, purple silk shirt, white shoes, and options shades. Tell him just how cool his dad looked, and, ideally, show him pictures!
Post a Comment