Clive Long
10th-February-2005, 08:30 PM
My name is Clive Long. I am a Ceroc poster (but I am trying to limit myself to once a day).
I am prompted by the glorious polo-neck and moustache of the "my-wife-next-door" thread to remember my worst (there have been many but this is the worst) fashion disaster I was responsible for.
I was 17. Second girl I had asked out and first to say yes. I was wearing my best trench coat, new jacket, best shirt.
Anyway, I arrived at her house at the appointed hour and pressed the door bell. Muffled noises behind the door, a short delay and then the vision of loveliness appeared. All quiet for a moment, she put her hand to her mouth, she squeeked and could only say, "My god, you are wearing three different checks."
I looked down, she was right. The evening turned to ashes.
Come on. Out with it.
I am prompted by the glorious polo-neck and moustache of the "my-wife-next-door" thread to remember my worst (there have been many but this is the worst) fashion disaster I was responsible for.
I was 17. Second girl I had asked out and first to say yes. I was wearing my best trench coat, new jacket, best shirt.
Anyway, I arrived at her house at the appointed hour and pressed the door bell. Muffled noises behind the door, a short delay and then the vision of loveliness appeared. All quiet for a moment, she put her hand to her mouth, she squeeked and could only say, "My god, you are wearing three different checks."
I looked down, she was right. The evening turned to ashes.
Come on. Out with it.