It's All In The Jeans

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As I was driving past a bus stop my eye was caught by a young Gothic-looking chap in the queue. No, it wasn't my latent homosexuality kicking in, it was his legs that attracted me. Actually that doesn't sound any better!!! It was his jeans OK! He was wearing the most infeasibly skinny skinny jeans I've ever seen. Now I'm not a fan of the skinny jean. It certainly isn't a staple of the WorDazza wardrobe. Once, while shopping for jeans, Mrs WorDazza handed me a pair of skinny jeans, as a joke, to try on. The joke was on her when I emerged from the changing rooms, for her to pass judgement, with the waist just above my knee-caps, bronzed, muscular thighs on view to the world!! It got me thinking that you never ever see a portly male Goth looking like he got dressed in the dark and inadvertently squeezed into his little sister's jeans. Every male Goth, ever, has legs like pipe cleaners. There obviously must be some sort of initiation ceremony for the budding male Goth. A bit like those signs at theme parks you have to stand against to ensure you're tall enough for the ride, there must be a universal pair of Goth skinny jeans you have to fit into to become a Goth. Fail to get them over your bulging thighs and that's it! You're out! No moping about in city parks, pretending you want to die! With those thighs you're playing rugby! Or maybe I'm over-thinking things again!!