Tuesday October 22nd 2024 "Ever bought underwear for a Scotsman? Well, don't do it again (!)"

Underwear's a funny old thing isn't it, and the "butt" of many a joke, "butt" when it comes down to it, we all wear it don't we (!). I expect you're wearing some even as you read these words (!). 

Unless you're a Scotsman, needless to say, who, sadly became the "butt" of many of the colourful postcards we used to buy on the seaside holidays of our childhood (!). [Not everybody's as ancient as you, remember, Colin! - Ed].  True Scotsmen, according to legend, don't wear anything under their kilts, which was a fact seized on by many a postcard artist, especially Donald McGill (1875-1962), who, despite his Scottish name, was born, and spent most of his life in, London.

Just look at this "doozy", for example.

And there are loads - like, a billion examples in the record-books of saucy seaside postcards. They're almost legion, dare I say!

Enough said, I think (!).

But underwear is never fully out of the news locally, is it, especially here in rural West Worcestershire, to put it mildly (!). Did you see today's typically hard-hitting editorial by irrepressible local man-about-village and general iconoclast Bill Anders, from the lovely Worcestershire village of Nob End, with one of his trademark challenges to "accepted norms"? It's on p.94 of the Onion News print edition, if you've got a moment to turn to it!

It's a typically hard-hitting Bill Anders column, firing on both barrels as usual - good old Bill, another "cracker" there! 

His commentary just about says it all, doesn't it. And it's something for me and my medium-to-long-suffering wife Lois to laugh about this morning, first in the heavily perfumed and harem-like atmosphere of Malvern's Divine Hair Salon ("It's just the name of the shop, dearie!") for Lois's appointment with her stylist Rachel, and, after that, on our daily walk through the sodden long grass by the railway line ("55 minutes and 50 seconds of squelching" as punk rocker Johnny Rotten might have described it (!)).

I wait on the plush sofa in the waiting-area while Lois's 

stylist styles Lois's hair behind the partition

Lois paying Rachel in the salon's sumptuous "till area" 

"55 minutes 50 seconds of squelching" as punk rocker 

Johnny Rotten might have said (!), in the long grass

by the GWR railway line: and today we're both delighted by

the sight of GWR's legendary "Worcester to Hereford Flyer"

Luckily we're both wearing our shiny new, and very stylish, "wellies", which is fortunate, particularly when we're "squelching" our way through the tunnels under the track (see above!!!) !!!!

And when we get home, the talk about underwear continues, because Lois is reading a new book, The History of Underclothes" by Willett and Cunnington, which is very much the "bible" of underwear enthusiasts all over the Anglosphere. 

As we break for coffee, Lois reads me out some choice

"doozies" from her current book on the history of underwear

I think we all know the Edwardian music-hall song about the poor lady cyclist and the difficulties that unsuitable underwear could cause her if she didn't think ahead, when selecting her outfit in the morning (!).

"Just a little bit of string - such a tiny little thing,

Not as tightly tied as string should be;

So in future when I ride, I shall wear things that divide,

Or things that haven't strings, you see!"

Poor lady cyclist !!!! And according to Lois's book, this verse of the song was hailed at the time as a daringly witty allusion to a closely-guarded secret. 

What madness !!!!

And here are some other "snippets" from Lois's book, that she reads out to me over our mid-morning coffee:

What a crazy world we live in !!!!! [That's enough underwear "doozies" (!) - Ed]

On a more serious note, however, all this talk about underwear is a welcome distraction for me, because this week, I've got the prospect on Friday of having to give a presentation on Scots English to members of the local U3A "History of English" group, which Yours Truly ("for my sins!") have been voted leader of.

Steve, our American brother-in-law, has sent me some Scottish jokes to break the ice with, when I start my presentation. 

I plan to end my talk with a couple of songs, probably one being the Lament of the Lady Cyclist (see above!). It's not particularly Scottish, admittedly, but it'll send the group's members on their way with a smile, which is the main thing, after all. Let's be frank about it!

And to be even franker I'm not sure what the advice is to kilted Scotsmen about what to wear when cycling. If YOU know drop me a postcard if you have time. I think I should be told, don't you?

For the body of my talk, I plan to showcase slides of Donald McGill's saucy seaside postcards about Scotsmen not wearing anything under their kilts - a bit of a cliché admittedly (!). But I need to tie it all in with something literary, so I ask Lois if she can find me any underwear references in classic Scottish literature.

Luckily Scottish poet Robert Burns (1759-1796) touched on the subject briefly in yet another of his poems about women and their underwear (specifically thongs), and the bastards on their backs, themes he was constantly returning to in his long life.

Nice one, Robbert. And presentation "sorted", that's for sure !!!!

Byeeeeeee!!!!

See you tomorrow!!!!

Will this do?

[Oh just go to bed! - Ed]

22:00 We go to bed - zzzzzzzz!!!!