Passing Thoughts Of A Mad Priest

When I was a lad, shirts came with tails. This meant that a gentleman had ample material to tuck into his trousers. This not only provided extra warmth to those regions of the human anatomy that you most certainly do not want to succumb to frostbite during an English winter but also meant that if you stretched up or bent down you did not expose your midriff and/or lower back and crack to the elements and the public's gaze.

Nowadays, shirtmakers seem loath to provide a covering for more than a couple of inches of flesh south of one's belly button. I am a man of average height and yet I am forever having to tuck myself in. Anyone in excess of six foot tall must go around in permanent danger of contracting a cold in their kidneys (something my mother would always warn me about whenever she caught me in sartorial disarray).


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