Belly Button fluff. Weird innit?
This might be a nice jumper. Then again, it might not. To own it I’d have to pay £140 for it, apparently. I don’t know what the logo says. I don’t know if there’s anything on the back. I don’t know what colour the sleeves are. So what’s the point in actually including it in this article? Is anyone going to look at this picture and even consider buying something they can’t even bloody see?
Idiot magazine. Shame on you.
Who finds a chore therapeutic? WHO? How can someone look me in the eye and tell me that ironing a shirt relaxes them? What kind of a planet are these people living on?!?
Considering their obsession with hats, you’d think that most women are actually bald, desperate to hide their shiny skulls from the general public for fear of laughter and humiliation. But I know that most women are not bald. I’ve seen women without hats on. This is solid proof that most women have hair, often lots of it. So why do they love covering it up so much?
It’s the deathnell for your dress, it’s curtains for your coat, it’s a travesty for your trousers – yep a button has fallen off and it is the end, my beautiful friend.
It is too bright for you down there? The lighting on the train straining your pupils? Worried that when we exit a tunnel you’re going to be hit by a sun so bright it could be the nuclear apocalypse?
No-one looks good in hats. I look like Tom Hanks in Philadelphia when I wear a cap. Can hats not be outlawed?
This is quite the look. What is this about? Is this the start of some sort of clothing challenge whereby the perpertrators have tried to match one extreme look with another? Are there people walking around doing this to varying degrees? Wearing boater hats with mankinis?
It’s not a good look. It doesn’t work. It makes you look like a quirky history teacher who cannot control his class and is about to be locked in a cupboard. PLEASE STOP.
This is a weird concept. A piece of female fashion which is now being bought and worn by MEN. I used to live next to a lovely bloke from the East End of London. He was the kind of guy who had done really well for himself in an industry that – for the whole time I knew him – remained clandestine and mysterious. He was a self-made man, an Alan Sugar type if you like. But he wore Ugg Boots. And can you ever picture Lord Sugar wearing UGG BOOTS? I can’t. He wore them with tracksuit bottoms. He’d go and get his morning paper with them. It wasn’t right then, and it’s not right now.