AS winter sets in, there are always one or two men around wearing shorts. I am one of them and I’m here to tell you why, in an effort to stop you presuming I’m just a bellend.
Am I survivalist in training for the coming collapse of society and its power networks? Am I on the way to or from exercise? Have I recently returned from a faraway clime where shorts would have been a logical choice?
I am none of these things. Instead I am a dreamer who loves to feel the morning frost on my lower leg hair, and a wintery breeze nipping the backs of my knees, even when I could wear long trousers like normal people. Plus, I think it makes me look hard.
I don’t feel the cold, because I believe it’s good for the constitution to suffer needlessly whilst hoping women behind me in the post office queue are admiring my white, goose bumped calves.
I am also a role model to the next generation of off-season short-wearers, and proof that adults do not have to behave in ways that make any sense, and often make them look like bloody idiots.
Every culture has its outliers and sometimes it feels like we trouser refuseniks are the last truly independent thinkers. So next time you see one of us out and about, remember that although we may look ridiculous, we are somehow still getting laid.
