Fashion Statements

I discovered today that the world has an exterior. Having fermented inside for almost a week (apart from the scenic drive to and from the hospital), I decided that it was time to explore. Donning a massive elastic, whalebone and titanium belt (which is designed to contain small thermo nuclear explosions and should therefore be equal to the task of keeping me upright and in one piece) I ventured forth. Fortunately the press had no prior warning so my way was clear. When you are not exactly stick like, wearing a large elastic bandage, T shirt and my containment field has a tendency to further exaggerate a somewhat ample physique. I found the answer. I wear the biggest fisherman's smock you can buy. For God's sake don't pick an argument with the guy this smock was designed to fit. He must be 7ft 2" and 30 stone. Never daunted I toddled off smiling and looking like a mobile marquis. My actual trip to a PC shop was completely uneventful however it did cause me to ponder on the ridiculous nature of fashion. I don't know how many billions of pounds are spent each year by people who are trying to look different but try this for a money saving idea. I am the best part of a hundred miles from the nearest saline water with fish in it. I can pretty well guarantee that I was the only guy within 95 miles, looking like I'd just stepped off a crab boat. See where I'm going? Now I really don't give a damn what people think about the way I dress. Sometimes I feel like wearing a suit, sometimes shorts and a T shirt. I wear what I want but for those who want to look different what is wrong with ski boots in Miami and grass skirts in Birmingham? I would personally prefer to see the grass skirts worn by females only, but what the hell (I want to see video footage of the first Birmingham welder spending the day at work in a grass skirt!). It's what's on the inside that matters. Aw crap! My insides are messed up as well.