Why men over 4. 0 are fashion disasters: Once, picking clothes seemed easy. Now Tom RAWSTORNE makes his wife cringe and his children snigger. Remind you of anyone you know? Why men over 4. 0 are fashion disasters Once, picking clothes seemed easy. Now TOM RAWSTORNE makes his wife cringe and his children snigger. Remind you of anyone you know? By. Tom Rawstorne for The Mail on Sunday. Published. 2. 2: 3. BST, 1. 6 May 2. 01. A simple enough equation and one that in the past would, sartorially speaking, have posed few problems. Throw on some clean trousers, a shirt, a jumper, grab jacket and head out (ignoring the bit where I leave, return to find wallet, leave again, can’t find mobile. But the rain had put paid to my game of cricket, cabin fever was kicking in, and I’d persuaded a couple of fellow players that the best preparation for the coming season was a tactical talk in the pub. Living doll: Tom's 'Cliff Richard' look, left, and 'Mr Shiny Shoes' outfit which his family have mocked. So there I am clanking along on the 7. Why men over 40 are fashion disasters Once, picking clothes seemed easy. Now TOM RAWSTORNE makes his wife cringe and his children snigger. Remind you of anyone you know? Tunbridge Wells — we’re not talking rock ’n’ roll here — shod in a pair of plimsoll- style shoes, some Hugo Boss jeans, a blue polo shirt and a jacket I picked up on a stag do five years ago. You might get the impression that while unlikely to unleash a fashion earthquake, the resulting ensemble might have looked — not wanting to pitch it too high — . And when I was in my 3.
The trouble is since I turned 4. I catch a glimpse of myself in the train window. And I text my wife. Me: ! Cliff in Summer Holiday.’To be honest, it wasn’t the look I was going for. Nor Cliff as Bongo Herbert in that long- forgotten classic Expresso Bongo. In fact, not the Cliff look at all. But that’s half the trouble. Joe Manganiello's workout routine for a monstrous upper body.In days gone by I didn’t have a . I just saw clothes I vaguely liked that were in a shop without a queue, bought them, wore them and went out. And that was it. But for reasons I can’t fathom, the tried and tested formula has hit the buffers. Because the truth is the Cliff debacle wasn’t a one- off. Legacy.com is the leading provider of online obituaries for the newspaper industry. Legacy.com enhances online obituaries with Guest Books, funeral home information. Terry Crews "The neighborhood I grew up in became worse and worse over the years, and when we played football in the street, or in the park, a handful of grown men. And I’m convinced it’s all to do with my last birthday. It’s like God’s saying: “Look at you, losing your confidence with women — here, have some fat”. You even get fat where it’s impossible to get fat — you get a fat back. A fat back!’Not so down with the kids: Tom's 'street style' made him look like a teen dance troupe wannabe. And that’s not the only laugh God’s been having with me lately. In the past week there have been three occasions when it’s dawned on me that since entering my fifth decade the tectonic plates of my fashion sense have shifted very subtly — but with terminal consequences. First was The Cliff. Then there was look number two — . It happened like this. I had an informal meeting with a television production company. Nice, normal people, aged 2. No need to be too smart. So I got dressed and headed downstairs. The first sign that all was not right was when my nine- year- old daughter eyed me up and down and in a faux- gangsta accent intoned: . Manfully, and before they could attempt to form a human pyramid or back- flip over the kitchen island, I ignored them and left the house. I looked myself up and down: a two- tone zip- up top, a t- shirt, a pair of grey trousers and Lacoste trainers. Again, nothing revolutionary. But the undeniable truth is I looked like a try- hard wannabe desperate to get down with the . He’s a well- to- do chap and we were to meet in a smart hotel. But it was a Sunday so I figured a suit would be too formal. Instead, I grabbed a pair of cords, a jacket and a pair of black shoes. Source of fun: Tom's wife and daughters often mock his dress sense. Richly deserved, because I looked a complete idiot, my dull cords highlighting the sheen on my inappropriately business- like shoes. Now, in the wake of these debacles I’ve being doing some serious thinking. And I think a couple of things could have happened. First, as John Bishop observed, at 4. In my case, I am certain my waistline has shifted. I’m not talking about a Simon- Cowell- esque jump northwards. It is more subtle, the sort of creeping movement that, were it in a house, would require careful monitoring using digital measuring equipment over a couple of months. But I think it’s started: the melt that sees all men regress to that baby- like state when you don’t have a waist — you just pick a point and position your elasticated waistband accordingly. The middle’s out, so do you go higher — The Cowell — or lower, paying homage to Jim of Royle Family fame? Back to specifics. The Cliff look was predicated by the fact that once your trousers sit higher there are certain knock- on effects. The trousers sit more snugly around the buttocks but this forces the hems to swing free. There’s no doubt this was a problem with Mr Shiny Shoes — too much ankle. Trust me, the trousers aren’t short. They fitted perfectly when I was 3. Making light of the matter: Comedian John Bishop has observed that at 4. In my 2. 0s, I wore a shirt to work, but never outside of it. In my 3. 0s, I wore a shirt to work, and occasionally outside of it. In my 4. 0s, I work from home and don’t need to wear a shirt to work. And I wear them casually. Because, as the zip- up top demonstrates, I just don’t know whether wearing . It may well be that there’s nothing wrong with any of the three looks. That, in fact, I’ve always looked like this. And that for years my friends have been praying Living Doll would come on the jukebox when we’re in the pub so they can nod at me, put down their pints and with a barely suppressed grin, say: . That after years of indifference, I’ve started to worry the way I dress is . First, like anyone suffering from a potentially life- destroying but unidentifiable problem, I turn to the internet for answers. The advice, while disparate, can be summed up as follows. First, I am advised that t- shirts with slogans are out. Or, as one website puts it: . But I’ve got a feeling that unless I address this problem there will be more trouble ahead and for ever more I’ll ricochet between looking too old and too young. Imagine my widow’s embarrassment when, sotto voce, the undertakers ask if . And so, for the first time, I’ve asked my wife to come shopping with me. And I know where it could lead. Before long I fear I’ll be dressed in a beige anorak, trailing behind her as we peruse the discount vests in Littlewoods. She’s already suggested I buy a cardigan. In the past I’d have laughed it off as a joke. But now, I just don’t know.
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