I have always had an interest in men’s fashion – no honestly! I know that the results may not evidence this interest, but it is there, nonetheless.

And I’ve always thought that the male sex has it so much easier than the female when it comes to formal dress – we just put on our evening dress suit, straighten up our bow ties and polish our black shoes and we are good to go. Women must decide on trouser, skirt or dress, long or short, low-cut or to-the-neck and that’s even before they consider what colour to wear.

Some men have it down to a fine art. Mark Zuckerberg and Simon Cowell dress in in the same clothes every day, T-shirt and jeans. They claim it saves them time and energy every day in the decision process that the rest of us go through leaving time for important stuff.

My wisdom today involves the recent male fashion which I believe is known as ‘drop crotch’ trousers.

‘Drop Crotch’ sounds a lot like a condition your doctor might diagnose – “Well, Mr Llama, I’ve examined your groin area and I think that you have a case of the ‘drop crotch’. It’s not contagious and it is reversible. I recommend that you wear your wife’s thong for a couple of weeks and all will be well!”

Was it M C Hammer who started the fashion? Many a ‘yoof’ can be seen in the High Street with their jeans waistband just above their pubes and the crotch of their trousers so low that it causes them to waddle like a penguin.

Today I saw the ‘drop crotch’ to beat them all. This young guy was walking down the street wearing a pair of ‘drop crotch’ JOGGING BOTTOMS.

The clue is in the title. Jogging bottoms are made to jog in. Drop crotch strides impede any ability to walk let alone jog and running? Just forget it!

So, my advice to this particular fashionista is “Make your mind up! Are you jogging or are you waddling? Which ever it is wear clothing that is fit for purpose.”

The irony is that we men have track suits for running in, ‘penguin suits’ for formal dinners, but if we want to waddle like a penguin we go for the Hammer Trousers, the drop crotch jeans.

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A five-year-old’s explanation of the Brexit Debate:

“When we were babies, we were joined on to Europe and there was no Channel Tunnel. I don’t even think there was the Dartford Crossing.
We liked it because we could just drive to our holidays in France. Soon we got upset that too many people were driving to England from France – I don’t think they were all French because Karim came to our school and he’s from Syria which is a long way from France.
So, we built the English Channel to keep them out, but they told us that we had to build a tunnel to let them all in. My Dad calls them “Bloody Meerkats, telling us what to do from their icing towers!”
One day the Prime Minister was fed up with his friend, I think he’s called Jacob, or Boris, always telling him not to be told what to do by a bunch of bullies.
“But there are more of them than just me” he said but Jacob told him to walk away, which is what our teacher tells us to do when we get bullied at school.
The Prime Minister, David Campbell, said “I’ve got a better idea! I will get everyone from England to help me tell them to ‘get lost’ so he called the Reverend Rendum who told him only some people wanted him to tell them to get lost. The others still liked having holidays in Europe.
“I’ll show you!” he said and the Reverend Rendum came back and said he’d asked everyone, but the answer was complicated. My Dad says if it had been a football match the score would be 4-3 to the ones who want to leave.
So, the Conversative football team changed their goalie – FOR A GIRL!
She went and cried to a man in France called Donald Trump (but not the Donald Trump with candyfloss for hair) and said that she didn’t want to leave really so he said, “Don’t worry I know a way that will make you stay.”
I think he said we could stay and still drive his BMW when we wanted to if we paid for it, but we wouldn’t be allowed to decide what colour it was going to be. Dad says we won’t be able to go to war with them because we won’t be able to afford it. I don’t think we will be going to war. I hope not because a lot of people and horses get hurt in a war.
Anyway, David Campbell had no idea when he spoke to Reverend Rendum that Ireland had a soft border, which is like a border collie I think but Donald Trunk won’t let them keep it, so it needs to find another home, and no-one wants it. It’s probably old and smells like our dog, Scamp, which we had put down at the vet.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. Someone wants a replay, but Dad says you only do that when it’s a draw, like 4-4. Someone else wants to forget it all and stay like we are, and my Dad says, “Stuff ‘em, don’t let them go telling us what to do! If they are bullies, we should leave them to it and go and play somewhere else!”
I think the Reverend Rendum should say sorry for making it so hard for Mrs. May that it has made her cry and I think I should ask my teacher, Mrs. Humdinger, what we should do to stop being sad about Brexit and just have fun.