HIGH streets are hotbeds of X-rated raunchy filth if you know where to look. Father-of-two Bill McKay takes you on a guided tour of the smut they contain.
Bravissimo
A lingerie shop which caters to the larger-chested lady, which explains why I always slow down and let out a sigh as I walk past the display window. However, their bras cost a pretty penny due to all the extra fabric and underwiring, so I don’t draw the wife’s attention to it in case she wants to go in.
Ann Summers
The pedestrian end of the sex shop spectrum, but not without its delights. And seeing as they’re so normalised on our nation’s high streets, you’re free to openly gawp at the raunchy products in the window without fear of recrimination from fellow shoppers. Don’t step inside though, everyone in there is so young you’ll feel like a repulsive fossil and have to pretend you thought it was a Halfords.
Boux Avenue
This one’s owned by that Theo whatshisface who used to be on Dragons’ Den, but try not to think about him as you ogle the mannequins or it’ll disturb your sex drive. The last thing you want to imagine is that house elf-like presenter skittering around in a lacy bra with matching pants. Oh, too late, sorry.
Pour Moi
Pour Moi doesn’t have as many outlets as the other brands, but if you pack some sandwiches you can make a nice day trip out of visiting one of their shops. Fob the kids off with some bullshit about going to Ryman’s, then sneak off for a good hour of gazing longingly at their beautiful lingerie, swimwear and comfy nightwear. Phwoar.
Mountain Warehouse
The thinking man’s erotic fantasy. Other shops might dazzle you with their cheap thrills, but what could be hotter than eyeing up a female shop window dummy with a bamboo loungewear T-shirt stretched across its chest? That thing’s practical, stylish and sustainable. I’m pitching a tent just thinking about it.