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Essential Old Coot's wardrobe items


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My wife, bless her heart, said that she would still appear in public with me even if I wore my brand-new bib overalls. My grandfather wore bib overalls and so did most of the farmers on whose farms I worked as a boy. They did so because bibs are practical and comfortable. I got mine because they truly are comfortable and because they allow my pot-belly room to breathe. My wife says that now I should get the "other Old Man's wardrobe items." When I ask exactly what those would be, she just smiles enigmatically and says, "Look around. You'll see." I look around and all I see are sporty older dudes with enough sense to wear comfortable shoes. Does anyone have any idea of what would constitute an  "Old Man's wardrobe item?"

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65 and still wearing identical clothes which I wore a long long time ago i.e. jeans and t-shirt with sneekers or trainers, and still have my hair but a bit grey. Never worn a pair of Bib overalls in my life.

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Just realised..I have a beautiful suit in my wardrobe..it was  always my favorite, and I have not worn it in years.. I live in Jeans and sport shirts now.. Teecee..

Hmm.. must try it on again and see how much I have shrunk.

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On ‎4‎/‎2‎/‎2018 at 4:12 AM, Jock7 said:

65 and still wearing identical clothes which I wore a long long time ago i.e. jeans and t-shirt with sneekers or trainers, and still have my hair but a bit grey. Never worn a pair of Bib overalls in my life.

I hope that doesn't include your underwear.

:o

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23 hours ago, Dadtom65 said:

Those Bib overalls is it true they also had a part on the rear that you could pull down and then sit down and have a good old XXXX. Derek.

You might be thinking of the old "union suit" (one piece underwear - red or white), they had a 'trap door' in the rear.

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On 4/2/2018 at 3:12 AM, Jock7 said:

65 and still wearing identical clothes which I wore a long long time ago i.e. jeans and t-shirt with sneekers or trainers, and still have my hair but a bit grey. Never worn a pair of Bib overalls in my life.

 

Just wait youngster, just wait.

 

Dale

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Not in our Queensland sub-tropical climate.  My outfit is really simple, boring, and repetitive. 

 

Light fabric pants, cheap slip-on shoes, and a T-shirt my wife forces me to change regularly.

 

In this country bib overalls are only known in American art.

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Matthew. My grandson says it depends on whether you wear them with ankle sox or knee sox. Those who stay in fashion wear the ankle sox. Those who are old enough not to give a hoot about fashion wear what they damn well please, that is, knee sox. Then there's the matter of Velcro straps vs shoelaces.

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Oh before I forget I've never had a beard, moustache or long hair. I have shaved every day since I started sometimes twice a day during Military Service. Had long sideboards once but had to shave them off.

 

Jock

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And that brings up another question for the older gentleman. Stick with the proven oldies--briefs or boxers--or try the new spandex models that are popular among the youngsters?

I tried the spandex and was embarrassed to find that my bulges could find many ways around the elastic. 

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Yep, bibs for me, too. If I had to buy jeans now I'd have to go by my hip size, not my waist size. Make's 'em shorter, though. Not easy to find jeans in 44x28. 44's are about a foot too long. LOL.

 

                                 jsapair

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  • 5 months later...

I'm resurrecting an old thread here but I just wanted to say I wear for comfort but that means cotton vests and boxers, fairly smart trousers, shirts and socks matching colours and really comfortable slippers for indoors and again, really comfortable shoes for outside.

 

I confess I only bother to shave if I'm going out.

 

John

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1 hour ago, flyingleaf said:

Was told to wear skinny jeans and the latest tight sweaters and my grandson told me "I look like a sausage in a tight casing":o:rolleyes::lol::D. Bless kids honesty.

:lol: I guess the best advice I ever saw about that came from the Character Actor Sidney Greenstreet (Rick's rival Cafe owner in movie "Casablanca'). Greenstreet was a large man who nevertheless always looked impeccably dressed. Someone asked his secret, and he replied, "Always wear clothes that fit." These days as I wear clothes that fit, no matter how embarrassing the size numbers, and I too am told that I look fit as a [bass] fiddle.

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On 4/2/2018 at 4:12 AM, Jock7 said:

65 and still wearing identical clothes which I wore a long long time ago i.e. jeans and t-shirt with sneekers or trainers, and still have my hair but a bit grey. Never worn a pair of Bib overalls in my life.

That's me to a "T", except I'm 67...

 

Russ

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That reminds me of the war years.  You yanks were always much smarter than us and certainly a lot cleaner!

 

Us Brits didn't have showers in those days.  Or bathrooms for that matter!  What was called a bungalow (tin) bath was taken down from  hanging outside in the back garden, placed in front of the fire in the kitchen (nowadays called the dining room), filled with buckets of hot water from the coal fired 'boiler' in the scullery (nowadays called the kitchen) that my Mum used for washing and at Christmas for the puddings.  

 

Anyway, every Friday, this bungalow bath was carted in from outside and put in front of the open coal fire in the kitchen (dining room).  My Dad, being the dirtiest had his first, then my Mum and then me.  As I got older, I began to realise that I was coming out of the bath dirtier than when I went in!  My solution was to go down to the local swimming pool where they had, of all things, a heavily chlorinated shower for rinsing off after your swim.  I used it before jumping in the pool and having a swim and, then again when I got out.  So, I was clean for another week!

 

Once I passed the scholarship at 11, I used, (with the PT master's permission) the shower that was off the end of the school gymnasium.  Then as soon as my father came out of the army, he built a batchroom complete with toilet, bath and shower on the end of the scullery (kitchen).   What luxury that was! 

 

You maybe realised I was very young at this time and perhaps wondered how I could swim.  Well that's easily explained.  I had an older cousin and she decided I needed to learn to swim.  She took me with her one day and as soon as we got out of the room with our costumes on, she grabbed me walked to the deep end and yes, you guessed it, chucked me in!  And with much sputtering, gasping and thrashing about I managed to make it to the side where she offered to pull me out.  Like a fool I let her and she pulled me out swung me around and chucked me in again as far as she could.  For a strapping sixteen/seventeen year old she was very strong and I landed in the middle.  Then she wandered off and had a swim with a couple of friends claiming afterwards she taught me to swim!  What she did teach me without knowing it was far more important.  Survival, at any cost!

 

My cousin Pauline joined the Army, went for officer training, and worked the rest of the war at, I think it was Bletchley Park, where she was sending and receiving morse code signals from the agents in France.  After the war, she told us it was heartbreaking when not receiving the signal at the right time, because she knew then the agent had been captured.

 

After, she met and married canadian sergeant who had been wounded and went to Toronto, Canada to live.   Unlike many, she fell on her feet.  His family were rich and she had a really good life and six children, all boys!

 

My goodness.  Sorry.  I got carried away.  And off topic!!

 

John

 

 

 

 

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John - at this time of life, one of our greatest assets is the memories.  Imagine how it would be without them.  Well I remember the tin tubs in front of the fire.  My maternal Granpa came home from the mines looking like a minstrel with a carbide lantern on his head.  He'd hop right into the tub and I always had the honor of fetching him his first pint.

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Yes Oldendirt.  I never met any of them but saw pictures of the state of the minors when they were coming home.  What an incredibly hard horrible life those fellers had.

 

John

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When I was a small child during the war years, my parents rented their first house. It was a very basic structure with only a frame and exterior siding. The interior walls were covered in newspaper to help keep the heat. Three rooms--main area, a small bedroom, and a smaller bathroom. There was an iron pot-belly stove for warmth, but that warmth didn't extend very far. When it came time to take a bath in the next room, I can still remember shivering even as mother poured in more hot water from a stove-kettle. To say we took quick baths is an understatement. We slept with hot-water bottles. Nobody in the family remembered those days fondly. Soon after, my parents were able to put money down on one of the quicky post-war houses then being built by the thousands. It came with a quarter-acre of land and was a half mile from our small town. It had a main room, a kitchen, two small bedrooms, a bathroom, and electric baseboard heat--real luxury! The folks stayed here for the rest of their lives and never saw that precious home as anything but first-class.

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When I read these stories, although I grew up in East London, I realise how incredibly lucky I was.  We always had a roof over our heads, a minumum of two bedrooms, and comfortable furniture. Even through the war years, although the house was damaged, it was always liveable in.   We put up with the 'smog's' and were always warm with coal fires.

 

When Sheila and I married, we lived with my parents, saved like mad for three years and managed to buy a really nice, well fitted new build three bedroomed house in a lovely part of of the Country...Sussex.  The only fly in the ointment was the travel to London and back by crowded train every day.  And reading the newspapers.  We got to London miserable and got home miserable! That was solved after a year or so by us both getting jobs in the small town where we lived and we have never read a newspaper since!  We relied on the radio and later television to keep up to date.  Good old BBC!

 

John

 

 

 

 

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4 hours ago, JohnY said:

When I read these stories, although I grew up in East London, I realise how incredibly lucky I was.  We always had a roof over our heads, a minumum of two bedrooms, and comfortable furniture. Even through the war years, although the house was damaged, it was always liveable in.   We put up with the 'smog's' and were always warm with coal fires.

 

When Sheila and I married, we lived with my parents, saved like mad for three years and managed to buy a really nice, well fitted new build three bedroomed house in a lovely part of of the Country...Sussex.  The only fly in the ointment was the travel to London and back by crowded train every day.  And reading the newspapers.  We got to London miserable and got home miserable! That was solved after a year or so by us both getting jobs in the small town where we lived and we have never read a newspaper since!  We relied on the radio and later television to keep up to date.  Good old BBC!

 

John

 

 

 

 

Living with my Grandparents, during the war , in Cowdenbeath Scotland.  Humungous fireplace with swing out cooking trivets - everyone crowding close and getting chilblains.   The radio was powered with a large wet-cell battery which was regularly carried away and returned with new life.  Our lighting was gas with mantles - like a Coleman Lantern in each room.  The 'piece of resistance' was a large Toby jug of 'Winnie' and his cigar sitting on the mantelpiece. 

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I am really struck by the difference between post-war, country-by-country memories. We in the US look back on a time of increasing prosperity. You in the UK faced years of economic deprivation as national debts were paid off. Forum members from Germany and the Low Countries had whole countries to rebuild. France and Spain and Italy regained their footing fairly rapidly, I think. As for OZ and NZ, I don't have a clue. I don't mind this thread being rerouted if it keeps producing fascinating memories like yours.

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In OZ it took a while for us to get off rationing of food and clothing but by the early 1950s all was well.

As for what I wear it's always been the same: a big Akubra hat and pull on work boots (sometimes called cowboy boots) - what goes in between varies with the weather - in our hot summer cotton daks and shirts; in winter the usual heavier clothing;  layers supplement both during Spring and Autumn.

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That's something I never knew TT.  I mean that you were rationed in Australia during the war and after.  And yet, immediately after you lot sent us food parcels!  We were always thankful thinking your were living in a land of plenty.

 

So, I for one am doubly thankful now.

 

John

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