The Cure to my Fat Neck
So I am just a regular guy who likes regular things, who
wears regular clothes and I was never really interested in fashion and
what not until I started writing my novel and realised that I needed my
characters to be dressed in clothes. I could have set the scene by describing
how some nudist colony took over the world and forced everyone to go naked at
all times but this would have been a calamity (no offence to any of you naturalists
out there).
This time in my life also coincided with me getting a proper
job in the proper mean and scary world that previously seemed like a world of
partying, hugs and roses as a student. Four months of sun kissed summers never
really required a shirt to be accompanied by a tie. Little did I know back then
of the monster size 17 and half inch neck I have and little did I know of the
problems this would cause me.
So off I went on my adventure to buy some new shirts.
Asda-Walmart seemed the best choice for a cash strapped young professional who
still did not have his first pay check. White seemed the obvious colour; Size
17 and a half neck found and bought to be tried on when at home so the fashion
advisor, now ex-girlfriend, could give the thumbs up to the 5 minutes of thought
that went in to the purchase.
So now at home I tried it on, the neck fitted so I was
chuffed. The problem was that the rest of the shirt was so big that it could
have doubled as a bed sheet. It looked more like I was going to a Halloween
party dressed as a ghost when I really wanted to look the part to be a trainee
skivvy at a law firm. These would all have to be returned and more effort would
have to be put in to finding some shirts.
Off to Primark, naturally, yet it was the same there. If
the neck fit then I needed a body of an Elephant for the rest of the shirt to.
So off to a slightly classier joint, Next, but each shirt I tried was never
quite right. Either too big or too tight and if the 17 and a halves did not
nearly choke me to death, the 18s were just so limited in choice that they only
had the awful left.
The store clerk suggested I try Hollister too. Now I am a
6ft 1” tall guy with shoulders that would not look out of place on a rugby
pitch, so most things I try on in Hollister in the shirt/t-shirt department can
be described as a crop top. I could never subject the public to such a sight,
not even on Halloween; it would just be too petrifying for all.
To other shops, larger chains and smaller independents but
the story remained a similar one until I saw it; that shiny glassed beacon of
light that read T.M Lewin. The oasis in the desert wasteland of rubbish shirts.
I walked in full of doubt but as soon as I saw the display and selection my
eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. Ordered in neck size and arranged in
colours; the staff were ever so friendly and willing to help, suggesting that
blue matches my complexion better than most. I was won over; they even were not
bothered when I pulled one shirt out and another ten fell on me.
It is amazing both the neck and the body fit me; yet the best thing is that I do not ever have to go back if
I don’t want to. Now I know my size and fit I can just order them online at
will. Thank you Mr T.M Lewin, I salute you sir.
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