Guys are usually stereotyped as preferring their clothes to be simple and straightforward. I am only too happy to keep them company there. Now, I’ll admit to being confused by many things in this apparently modern world. One conundrum that I constantly stretch my brain trying to figure out is the reason for the existence of confused clothes. Garments that are neither entirely one thing or the other. Design should be either beautiful or functional, and most clothing of this type is neither.
Confused clothing has been around for decades. Jumpsuits are nothing new and persist in coming back into “fashion”, despite the obvious difficulties presented when the wearer needs to hit the bathroom (guys are sensible and stick to a two-part combo). Fortunately the skort (cross between a skirt and trousers) stays in the past where it belongs. Leotards have a purpose, providing you’re actually going for a medal at the Olympics. Their fashion cousin, the body, became a notoriously frustrating challenge in the Eighties for drunken women desperately needing to pee.
Then there are the shoe boots that have been around the last few years. Who decreed that these were a desirable form of footwear? Does anyone actually buy them? These pointless items are basically a boot that has mislaid its toe. Where is the sense in that when boots are winter footwear and meant to keep your feet warm? It’s like wearing backless trousers and having your ass crack on display – oh wait, Yoko Ono’s already been there.
And onwards it rolls. Now the new, rather distasteful vogue for hybrid words is increasingly hitting garments. Enter jeggings – denim-style leggings. Leaving aside the fact that leggings are not the most flattering garment on most women, if you want to wear jeans, wear jeans! Not a hideous bastardised hybridisation. And spare our once-beautiful language the same fate.
Finally we come to polo shirts. Yes, men do not realise that they too fall prey to mixed-up apparel. I have long since held a deep and perhaps irrational hatred for the polo shirt, a garment that cannot commit to being either a t-shirt or a shirt. What is the point of that silly little row of buttons that peter out somewhere around the level of the nipples? Is it the male equivalent of the cleavage-baring top? Put it away guys, and either commit to a shirt or a t-shirt. Sartorial standards will thank you.