Once again I have been dragged out to buy new clothes: must be the time of year. After all, it cannot be the state of my jeans, as they still haven’t reached the tattered state of great torn gashes in the legs that modern fashion demands.
I have never been a ‘dedicated follower of fashion’, but rather one who views clothes as necessary to hide the ugly bits of body and keep me warm. Shoes I can understan: they protect the feet. The rest are necessary evils.
It transpired that this trip was prompted by the need to ‘spend’ ‘nectar points’ before they expired (modern day green shield stamps ) Apparantly, if we purchased from Sainsbury, we would be rewarded with double the nectar points, thus making the purchases FREE. Not a fan of supermarket clothes I reluctantly agreed to go along as I felt the urge for some new jeans and more work shirts. However, I was fully aware that Annette had already scoured all the women’s and children’s clothing and failed to find anything suitable.
So why don’t I like supermarket clothing? After all like most married men I have had the experience of being given clothing that would see me rise from the grave seeking vengence. 
It is kind of hard to fake the look of happiness and delight that is expected and it takes many years of the fake grin 
before they finally twig and give up trying to force these things upon you. Still we men are a game lot and you force yourself to wear them. Putting on the sunglasses you prepare for the ridicule you know the unmarried friends will pour upon you and the knowing sympathetic smiles from the married men. Then just as it starts getting comfortable: pocket sligtly torn, couple of buttons missing, one sleeve hanging on by a couple of threads, it is suddenly too old and not to be worn in public.
Anyway, from experience I know that the majority of supermarket clothing is of low quality and ill fitting. The sizes are all too often more like a collection of lottery numbers than actual mesurements. This often means that the 16 1/2 collar shirt (usually massive) is attempting to strangle you when you try the shirt on and I get branded as a fool for not buying a larger size. For heavens sake, who would need a ‘slim fit’ 16 1/2 collar shirt? More to the point, I still have 14 1/2 collar shirts that fit me that I have owned for roughly twenty years, but they are not to be seen by the unsusspecting public.
So it is a great gamble buying a simple shirt and given the general weather conditions in Great Britain, durring a good six months of the year, I refuse to buy short sleeved shirts in November. After a great deal of hunting through the twin packs of ‘slim fit’ huge necked shirts I found some that didn’t dazzle me and at a price that didn’t get me reaching for the Asprin. Having got a collar that would make Harry Hill proud 
I was reasonably confident I could get inside them.
Next came the jeans. Styles and quality were a large issue here and clearly the overpriced discounted tags. There were a good range of these things, made from all sorts of matereials, none of which I would describe as denim. Now I am old enough to remember when the jeans I bought were of a quality and durrability that meant they were capable of standinmg alone.
None of the supermarket range came close to resembling a pair that had been through a thousand wash and wear cycles. In fact the majority of them, despite being priced at over £20 a pair (in the sale) looked more suitable for a childs doll. 
Worn down by the need to spend the last vouchers and get home before Christmas, I found a pair of reasonable jeans that were supposed to be my size and looked like they might fit.
Sadly, they proved to be a size too small when I got to try them on but, they had served the purpose of earning a gift card equivalent to the value of the vouchers that was good for a year. If I had known that was all Annette wanted I would have picked up the first pair I saw and rejected them in the comfort of my own home.
I do so hope I miss all the January sales. 🙂