I was driving past a naval establishment recently and I mentioned to the children how handsome men in uniform look as there was a procession of officers going past.
The gold brocade was glinting on their epaulettes in the sunshine and, although many of them had caps on so I couldn’t see their faces too clearly (and I was supposed to be looking at the road and not the scenery), I was convinced they were all Richard Gere.
I am happily married, but the officers put me in mind of the website Uniform Dating – the one advertised on telly – and how much it irritates me.
You can join whether you wear uniform or just fancy people in uniform. So anyone can join then? It’s no different to any other dating site, like having a foot fetish agency, or one for men with moobs, it’s simply a marketing ploy.
Not that I spend a long time worrying about these things, you understand. I am simply noting that while uniforms are a unique selling point, they are a red herring.
Anyway, my youngest daughter came up with a brilliant plan as I bemoaned the fact that their father has nothing uniform about him.
My daughter’s idea was simple, sew daddy a suit. A husband uniform.
This plan tickled me so I explored it further.
According to my eight-year-old it would need to start with a red leotard. White legs and arms could then be sewn on.
‘Wouldn’t that be just as handsome?’ she enquired.
I was giggling so much at the thought of presenting this to my husband to put on after a day at the office that I never did work out why a he would need a leotard.
In her mind there was an overlap between the uniform idea and the superhero idea, which I suppose is how all little girls should see their daddy.
Once in this uniform, a husband would be expected to perform his husbandly duties.
Luckily she didn’t define what those were.
It’s a novel idea, I’ll agree, but I’m not sure that it’d be able to rival the officer look.
After all, who can take a man in a homemade leotard seriously?