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Shirtless Men ?


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HOLA441

Odd, isn't it. In the old days (pre-1970s) going bare-chested for men was only done by people in the roughest, dirtiest professions like coal mining.

Then at some point in the mid 70s or so, (probably the summer of '76) men started wandering around bare chested, their beerguts bulging over their brown sta-prest flares and wearing their Elvis sunglasses.

When I was a kid (70s-80s) you used to see it a lot more with 'respectable' men than you do now - dads with kids on days out etc. I've only seen chavs do it in recent years.

In the USA a lot of places have signs saying 'no shirt, no shoes, no service' but I'm not sure I've ever seen that in the UK except in McDonald's.

Indeed going topless is frowned upon these days..........t shirt, shorts and trainers is pretty much the fashion these days, unless you want to be singled out as a chav. Possibly being more aware of skin cancer may have something to do with it, most male skin cancer's are on the back. Certainly can get enough vitamin D from arm and leg exposure alone.

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HOLA442

my dad was a publican in the 70's/80's/90's, he would refuse to serve any man without a shirt. I can sort of see his point.

on the other hand anyone seen the advert for southern comfort on the telly, fat bloke with belly, moustache, sunglasses strolling down a beach 1970's, I presume it's supposed to be ironic.

There was a very camp gay pub landlord in the Cambridge area in the 1970's. Apparently he would not serve men wearing shirts and no tie, because they were not wearing a tie. He would, howver, serve men who were topless, because, as they were not wearing shirts, they did not require a tie.

Edit: I see the pub still displays a memento from that era:

DSC_0536.jpg

Edit 2: A few anecdotes about the landlord I have just found on another forum:

I remember many years ago when a thoroughly disreputable looking mate of mine (leather jacket, swastika badges, etc.) used to go there quite a lot, and was always welcomed with open arms (not in this case in the biblical sense) by 'Squire' Tickell. I suppose now it'll all be quite pukka by comparison...

He was lucky. A couple of friends of mine went, reasonably dressed, in an E-type, having planned to go there for ages. The 'Squire' ran out into the car park, dressed in 18th century gear, and told them to go away because they weren't wearing ties.

For those who may not be aware, the Tickell Arms was a splendid pub run by the self styled 'Squire de la Tas Tickell' of Whittlesford, who died of cancer a few years ago. He once ended up in court for attacking one of his customers with a ball and mace.

He was a raving old poof, in the style of Quentin Crisp, but more outrageous.

When I was in there, many years ago, he attacked one of his bar staff who had left the top off an expensive bottle of brandy. It was like something from a Monty Python sketch.

I'm sure he was a couple of sandwiches short of a full picnic.

I did once speak to the venerable Squire in the loo and (what does once say in such circumstances) complained that the speakers at each end of the bar were never playing the ride of the Valkyre. He replied that it was regrettable that one cannot have everything one wants in life.

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HOLA445

As a younger man I had a fast metobolism, and a serious aversion to waking up in the morning. So I had to run the mile or so to the station pretty much every day. From about March to October that would result in serious overheating, so I'd run topless from the point at which I got hot, put my shirt on open as a courtesy to my fellow train passengers (while directing as many of the ventilation blowers as I could find on to my person). At Blackfriars I'd joyously rip my shirt off and stroll to work by the most direct route via one of the Inns Of Court- I think it was the Inner Temple, but I don't care enough to google a conclusive answer. Anyway I did this for a couple of months with no bother, but one day a little man popped out of his hut at the entrance gate and informed me that I'd not be allowed in without wearing a shirt. I reluctantly complied, as I needed to get to work- but I never once walked that way again, preferring the extra 200 yards via Fleet Street- and I also resolved never ever to employ a barrister. Snotty little bastards!

Shortly thereafter, in the immediate aftermath of the 7/7 bombings, when there were policemen at every London terminus, I hopped off pretty much the last passenger at Blackfriars, as I'd been in the last carriage, having flung myself through the door 5s before the train departed. Ripped my shirt off on the platform as usual, and stuffed it into the smallish carrier bag I was carrying. Every other passenger strolled past the police presence, but they stopped me- the one person who could not more obviously have been innocent of carrying an explosive vest or rucksack bomb. Their explanation was "well you look unusual". Annoyingly I was carrying 5 pouches of Belgian-bought Old Holborn as a favour to my boss, so couldn't really press the point.

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HOLA446

Don't just wonder, try it and report back!

Does a mankini count as topless or not?

I'm afraid a "corporate dress code" was emailed to all today, due to the hot weather, and people dressing differently! :blink:

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