Tuesday 17 November 2009

Dressing Up


He can't even zip his trousers up properly. Sigh.

3 comments:

Eva Jo Frogster said...

I am desperate for Gordon Brown, no matter what state his trousers are in!

"Gordon Brown be my Angel"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCEWhEuhRoo (lyrics annotated)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znUtocdwnYw (BETTER SOUND QUALITY)

Brahms Lullaby

Gordon Brown! Gordon Brown!
Will you be my angel?
Guardian angel is what I meant
Will you rescue my soul?

For you are in charge
Of these people I wrote to
Stephen Timms, Jack Straw
Let me place my trust in you

Gordon Brown! MP’s!
Let me sing out loud
For what you do, for my country
For my reproductive system

You right wrongs! My right’s been wronged
I am desperate for you
Not just you! There’s Jon Herring
I’m a violated woman

Gordon Brown, help me sleep!
Help me sleep like a baby
Will my babies ever come out?
Maternal desires!
I lost my womanhood
In a sinister curse
Gordon Brown! Bring it back!
You are perfect for that!


"Eva Jo Frogster"

lilith said...

It is easy to see how he left the house looking like that if his wife thinks this to be a proper way to dress..

hatfield girl said...

Oh, L, the poor woman.

I asked Mr HG what had gone wrong for Brown (in the Mansion House march that is) and he said those shirts are voluminous and very long, so getting dressed means getting the order right. I gather it goes:

Nicks, vest, socks, shirt, do tie, check hair or anything that needs arms raised, legs in trousers, shoes on and tied, do anything that needs bending reaching down, trousers up and shirt smoothly tucked in all round, trousers secured. Trousers should reach above waist, the formal, just under the armpit, trouser. Waist coat on, well-covering top of trouser, coat on with shoulders comfy. The secret is to keep still inside your clothes once that shirt is all sleekly tucked in.

If he (Mr HG) were required to wear doublet and hose - a not so unlikely requirement for Italians, often accompanied by firing crossbows, riding horses, playing a peculiarly violent and primitive form of football, and aiming at popinjays with lumps of metal on chains - he would get help with getting into it. People used to wearing modern shirts aren't good at stuffing all that linen safely into their trousers. He thought Mr Brown's clothes were too small for him as well, certainly something odd about the shoulders on the coat, too square.