Tailor made

My cousin Rosie gets married this Friday so I went in search of a new suit to impress the ladies with. I had tried on the suit jacket that I had bought about ten years ago but, to the dismay of my wallet and I, it no longer fitted my waistline. It reminded me of the scene from 'Father of the Bride' when Steve Martin is determined to fit into the tuxedo he had worn twenty five years earlier at his own wedding. As memory serves me he struggles comically for a while and then his trousers rip down the back. I certainly don't want that to happen to me when I'm chatting up a good looking blonde at the reception, so, with a sigh of resignation, I went to our local outdoor shopping mall armed with my debit card. With my mum as personal advisor we first went to Asda looking for a bargain. The suits there were quite nice and very cheap but the sizes were all to big. I'm no slim Jim myself but they were hanging loosely from my frame as though they were designed for sumo wrestlers. I guess this is a sad case of supply and demand as, accordingly to statistics, Scotland is the unhealthiest nation in Europe and has the highest rate of obesity and heart disease. Our diet plays a major part in this, as we deep fry anything that is edible, from pizza to Mars bars. It reminded me of a funny comment made on a comedy quiz show called 'Mock the week'. The topic of conversation was the spotting of sharks in the North Sea just off the coast of Scotland. One comedian, a sharp witted Scotsman called Frankie Boyle, quipped that if a shark was to eat Scottish people the shark would probably die of a heart attack. It was one of those moments when you are walking or sitting among a crowded area and you think of something funny and involuntary burst out laughing or grin inanely, causing people to edge away from you cautiously. Anyway we moved onto another shop but with the same outcome. I absolutely hate shopping, especially for clothes, so I decided to go a proper shop that specialises in suits, fancy shirts, etc. I found a suit that I liked fairly quickly and it was half price, so twenty minutes later I emerged with the content air of a man who knows that come Friday he'll be looking smart and suave. The wedding will be HUGE. 200 guests at the wedding and dinner, and then another 150 will come to the reception. Hopefully it will be a good day. To quote Jane Austen, I wish Rosie and Paul 'all imaginable happiness'.