C is for Corduroy trousers

I'VE decided to cheat just a teeny weeny bit as the Male Order A to Z express pulls into the Style station identified with a C.

Having tried and failed to come up with a thoroughly brilliant idea which begins with the third letter of the alphabet, I've opted this week for Corduroy trousers.

C for coats seemed a little bit out of date given that we're halfway through the winter, while C for cravat was simply far too pretentious.

As for C is for my Experience Of The Catwalk, well it would have more to do with kicking Fred and Ginger out of the back door than it would with fashion.

This column is therefore about not just any old pair of cords, but the bargain pair I bagged from H&M for just é10 some while back.

Bargain

So what if they were fully 12 inches too long (NB: important part of the plot - remember that measurement for later), they were cheap.

What's more, I belong to that stubborn tribe of men which lives according to the bible of DIY.

I can plumb a bathroom (note the watermarks on the kitchen ceiling); hang a door (note the scratch marks on the bedroom floorboards); and tile a floor (note the lack of tiles); so I'm sure that altering a pair of cords can't be too difficult.

Now a sensible fella would have been straight off to their mum's or the local tailor, thinking nothing of dropping a few hints or handing over a small amount of change in exchange for a perfectly trimmed pair of trousers.

But not this one.

Snip

I carefully lopped the required 12 inches off the bottom with a pair of scissors - by now you should know where this is going - and then used some of that clever white iron-on stuff to complete the job in hand.

Then it was a simple case of waiting for the iron-on stuff to cool down, pulling on the pants, and..aaarghhh!!!!

The only way that I could prevent them from looking half-mast, thus prompting hilarious inquiries about the health of my aforementioned cats, was to wear the waist band somewhere around my backside.

I did try, honest. And who wouldn't when a crisp tenner was at stake?

But no matter what I did in an attempt to counter the not-quite-right look of my budget garment, it didn't really work.

And the moral of the story?

Most men can bodge brick walls and fudge paintwork. But they should really accept defeat when it comes to altering clothes.

Hindsight and an innate refusal ever to admit that I'm wrong tells me that I should have only taken 11 inches off the bottom of my corduroy trousers.

But common sense tells me that I should really have called in an expert.

My rash purchase of a pair of cords might have been a snip at a tenner but it was a rash snip which cost me just as much.

And as every man knows, C is also for cash: a commodity which you'd rather keep in the pocket of your ill-fitting trousers.

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