It’s that time of year when we bare our extremities, show off our pins and give the guns an airing.
It’s all well and good to embrace the warmer months and regurgitate last summer’s clobber, hit Selfridges for new Havies and stock-up on string vests – but not if you’re recoiling alfresco diners, beer garden drinkers and the pond life of Old Compton St as you misconstrued bumsters were ever in.
Leave Chewy At Home
If you insist on donning a vest, a neat amount of chest fuzz is acceptable. Unkept armpits, Chewbacca shoulders and if it looks like a squashed chinchilla is creeping up to mate with the back of your neck – manscape – or pop on a cotton roll-neck.
Popeye will pop eyes
It’s all very well staying cool this season but exposing your arms if they resemble a nine year-old-girl’s will deter hot predators, attract finger lickin’ and enthuse passers by to take interest in your ring “my precious”.
Reptile nails, ciabatta crust heels and toe jam might have been appealing to inmates at The Clink, but nowadays will repulse most gifted with vision. It’s defo good to give ya hooves fresh oxygen but not if they look like they’ve just stepped off Middle-Earth.
The Muffin Man Can© szefei Depositphotos
You might have been able to squeeze into the those denim shorts two years ago.
And just because Dolce & Gabbana’s S/S collection was laden with tight T’s it doesn’t mean you should offend your compadres, colleagues and the rest of us with your protruding crap-ladder sporting muffin-top.
Budgie-smugglers: unless you’ve a body similar to the British Olympic diving team, Chris Hemsworth or Michelangelo’s David – just don’t.
I’ve lived in the Old Smoke since 1999 with a career in fashion, fitness and events. I discovered the joys of writing beginning of 2014. Since then I’ve been tapping digits to keys. Subjects include food, theatre, exhibitions, London life and other topics that tickle my taste-buds. Other publications include Timeout, Gay Times and So So Gay Magazine.