Dress codes
This would definitely be in my Room 101 list, in the highly unlikely event Paul Merton invites me on to the show.
I didn't mind not being able to wear shorts for dinner in Sri Lanka, as there are religious, cultural considerations...but Karen's just told me the ponsy restaurant she's booked for our 1st anniversary (no please, don't applaud) will not tolerate jeans in the restaurant. Ordinarily, if a place had any sort of dress code, I wouldn't go near it. It's a tacit way of saying "No riff-raff in here".
The reason I fell for Manchester was its relaxed attitude to dress at night. In some places in Liverpool, you're not allowed in without the Ben Sherman uniform. Chester is terrible: you're expected to dress up to go into a twatty little no-mark pub mid-week.
When I was a youth, places were either dives (anydress goes) or nightclubs (dicky-bowed bouncers, slacks, shirts, and shoes only).
But what sort of a santimonious little excuse for a human-being starts inflicting his/her own terrible dress sense on to clubbers: Jeans, but no trainers?! Jeans look SHIT without trainers. And why are we expected to where are office-clothes at the weekend, the one time we'd sooner hang ourselves with a tie than wear one?
In conclusion: dress codes, BOLLOCKS.
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