So, British tourist hot-spot Alton Towers has put the kybosh on budgie-smugglers. Well done the Poms, I say.
The reason behind the ban on Speedo’s and ‘other tight swimwear’, the fun park says, is to ‘prevent embarrassment among fellow members of the public and to maintain the family friendly atmosphere of the resort’.
This being so, I can’t think of a more apt time to call on the Rudd government to roll-out a similar kind of initiative.
The tighty-trunks have always proved controversial: a popular fashion statement from those who are unnecessarily proud of their physique.
The whole idea of wearing such a skimpy bather comes across as an attempt by men to show off their manhood. But the whole project falls flat, with that thin piece of unforgiving fabric usually exposing their lackthereof. Not to mention that most of them are so ill fitting, and far too tight. Does the expression ‘hungry-bum syndrome’ resonate with anyone?
Australia already has a cringe-worthy public track record with the ‘barely there’ cossie’s. Remember NSW pollie Peter Debnam in those budgie smugglers during the 2007 state elections? No doubt you do, as it was, much like a childhood trauma, seared into all our memories.
Then there was Bodgie Bob at the 1975 ALP conference, all proudly oiled up in his extraordinarily tight baby briefs. And of course who can forget that other visually searing moment, when Hawkie showed off his Prime Ministerial tan and not much else when he mingled with the crowd at a charity cricket match in Canberra.
(On a separate note, someone needs to send a desperate message to all male Aussie pollies that it’s never ok to bring the boys out to the beach.)
The poster-boy of the budgie smuggler debate is none other than ‘that old guy’ we’ve all seen wandering aimlessly around the beach. You know who I mean. The sixty-something leathery-skinned aging ex-surfer dude, who patrols along the sand, without ever taking a dip, standing at the edge of the surf with hands on hips, gazing out into the sun, smugly confident that all eyes are fixed on him.
Perhaps a ban on all beaches may be a tad neurotic, but not so on venues known for their family friendly atmosphere. Like for example Neilson Park at Vaucluse Point, where the sight of paunchy geriatrics with mounds of sun fried flesh wobbling over fluorescent G-strings is out painfully out of place amongst the bucket and spade brigade.
Of course, the most popular excuse thrown around by wearers is one of comfort.
Now, I know no-one likes to be told what to wear by the fashion police, but I really, really like relaxing in my trackie-dacks. Heck, I’d wear them all the time if I could. But hey, I don’t think it’s fair of me to treat the rest of the world to such an unflattering sight.
We should all be grateful to the good sense of the citizens of Alton Towers - at least someone finally has the fashion sense to know when enough is enough.
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