Off the peg or some decent tailoring?
It's a quandary when funds are adequate and unexpected possibilities disport themselves and demand to be satisfied. Being of an age were I've worn every God awful fashion from 1980 to 1999 I have no desire to be dragged screaming and kicking into the fag end of the Noughties. No, I'm not wearing that.
I'm a Tens man myself. Ten packs of Embassy Regal and not a hint of a six pack. Which makes me Seventies. Except I'm not.
I'm sick to death of decades, and the desire to define ourselves by them. I think we should be thinking more in terms of epochs and eras. Not that that will make much difference as we'll still divide them by ten.
I was at Woodstock by the way. Not only that, I saw the Sex Pistols at the 100 Club (or was it the Marquee?), witnessed the Smiths at Moles Club Bath before they were famous, and punched John Squire at the Stone Roses Spike Island shambles.
Then I retired Rip Van Winkle style to pursue my muse. Fat lot of good it did me; I'm still stuck in 1936 and 1968:
I am a singleton when it comes to decades. Give me years and I'm a serial monogamist.
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Is that you behind the drum kit Garfer?
Or is that you getting your kit off?
*notes use of giant polka dots as background decor*
Och away man, you've no lived until you've taken a pish next to Shane McGowan in Waxies after a night on the Powers.
I still have very happy memories of throwing the spitting drummer fae the UK Subs out of the back door at the Barra's in 79.
Give me the 80's any day.
I was at the Woodstock revival in 1999. Does that count?
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