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Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Style Nazis are genetic

Yes I said genetic, not generic.

My Beloved has always been a snappy dresser, buying most of her clothes from Jaeger, Country Casuals, Vyella etc. (Note to unmarried blokes and married blokes lucky enough never to have been dragged gone shopping with their partners.  The above shops obviously have lovely clothes; because their prices are f*cking extortionate.)

I, on the other hand have been primarily concerned with comfort. 

I don't take things to the extremes.

When I go to Nuova Lazio High School, I always wear a jacket, dress shirt and tie (trousers too, and socks, shoes and nether garment coverings, for all you pedants out there), but at home I generally wear either shorts and T-shirt in the summer.  If I go out with my beloved, it has been my practice to wear my favourite casual trousers.
These were bought via mail order from a company in the UK called Craghoppers.  I always buy my outdoor gear from them, but wait for the sales, because they're quite pricey. The quality is excellent.  I bought two pairs of their Kiwi trousers.

They are tough, very comfortable, with a multitude of pockets to keep the essential bloke's requirements; wallet, humbugs, string, folding knife, hip flask of Scotch, spare change, USB Pen Drives, tins of beer, plastic bags and these days, a mobile phone.

My Beloved was never keen on them, saying they were too scruffy to be seen accompanying her (she was probably right, but most time I'm too scruffy to be seen accompanying her, let alone my apparel)

But the situation is worse than I feared.

On Monday I went to see the Eddie Izzard show in Wellington. (show wasn't bad, the second half being much funnier than the first half)

It was partly a birthday treat (I had my birthday on Saturday) and partly a bonding seesion with my son.

It was quite late when I got home from NLHS (another Head of bloody Faculty Meeting, which Ringo missed I'm glad to say) and I kept on my short-sleeved white shirt I wore to work, took off my tie, changed my dress trousers for my trusty Kiwis by Craghopper, and thought I was ready to go, with maybe a light jacket once we went outside.

My son told me he wasn't going out with me dressed like that.

At the time, he was wearing what I would describe as a mix of grunge and metrosexual crap.  His T-shirt had layers, holes, zips and a scoop neck.  His jeans had holes, tears and looked decidedly Oxfamish. His hair was shaved up the sides of his head, but flopped down over his eyes, yet this absolute paragon of haute-couture said I was scruffy.

My Beloved just glared, so I went and changed.

Now look, Kiwis are some of the most casual dressers you could ever meet.  There were blokes in that theatre last night in shorts and jandals; shorts, dress shirt and hiking boots.  There were ladies in dress varying from dungarees to cocktail dresses (always wondered about the term cocktail dress. Does it get you pissed? or are they waiting for a cock to chase their tail?)

Nobody would have cared if I had been wearing what I originally intended, but my son, backed up by my Beloved had insisted, so I went with a checked shirt, khaki cords and a lightweight tweed jacket.  I admit I did feel smarter, quite the bee's knees in fact, but I was being forced to wear somebody else's selection, and it makes me grumpy.

Just as an aside, where on Earth do some of these expressions we use every day (at least in the UK and NZ) come from?

The Bee's Knees (looking smartly dressed, UK & NZ)

Box of Birds (Feeling happy, NZ)

Pissed Off (angry, grumpy, murderous, UK & NZ)

The Cat's Pyjamas (Just the best, UK & NZ)  This last one is I think the weirdest.  As is the actual word "pyjamas".  I think it derives from Persia, but not completely sure, but it certainly feels different from other English words.

Oh well, must head off to NLHS, for another day of stimulating teaching.
Oh, I almost forgot.

Our seniors left after the prize giving last night, and only the juniors are left.  I only have one junior class on my timetable, which means, by an incredibly fortuitous circumstance (and absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was on the Timetable Committee last year) that


O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy. 

(The Jabberwocky; Lewis Caroll.)  (See, just because I'm a techno-nerd, and even on a bad day, an ├╝bergeek, it doesn't mean I'm a literary ignoramus)


  1. TSB I am sure your joy will be short lived. Ringo will screw it up for you as he does and only he can. Anyway a non contact day means you shoudl be busy getting your new computing standards resources ready for next year eh?
    Or Yeah Right? Hope it was a good one. I got stuck doing a junior exam supervision and 3 relief spells today. Juniors are soooooo tiring. FUN, NOISY, HYPERACTIVE, but tiring. I'm off to bed. Exhausted!

  2. Happy belated birthday!

    Oh, the irony of receiving sartorial advice from a yoof.

  3. Bin: Thank you, it did.

    VG: You must be psychic, he already has; and I am already working on the new Level 2 assessments...what fun. HINT, when doing exam cover, an MP3 player loaded with a good audiobook stops you from going insane.

    looby: Thanks. No one else spotted that. Irony? possibly; Irate Dad? definitely.

  4. TSB - Yes I am psychic. Sorry he stuffed it up for you. Exam supervison again today but not nice. I had to keep my eye on them like a hawk and had to remove one young madam who was intent on not attempting the paper and disrupting the class to the best of her ability. Off to the DP she went. Then 2 spells with Year 10s and OMG these 2 boys had a fisty cuffs right in the middle of the class. Nothing could stop them from attempting to kill each other. So SOS to neighbouring teacher and DP. Then I had boy/girl drama (Aint love sweet). She left the room in tears to chill out in the corridor. He was worried and could'nt work out what he had done to upset her. Oh the hormones in the air today! Only a half day today but still exhausted.

    PS TSB Happy Birthday for last Saturday.
    Why did your folks not call you Guy?? My best friend had a son on 5/11. She had to resist calling him Guy. Did your celebrations go off with a bang?

  5. VG: Ah, exams; don't ya love 'em? I do, because it means the little sods aren't in MY class. Thanks for the birthday wishes. and I'm quite happy with TwistedScottishBastard thank you very much. I'm just glad they didn't call me PervertedLambStealingSodomite like my Uncle or even after my Grandfather, IrishTwistedDraftdodger. I really have no idea where they came up with my name, but I like it, it suits me.


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