Who wears short shorts? Well, me and Paul Mescal, for starters

Times

7 hours ago

Having recently come out as a fan of the budgie smuggler, it won't surprise anyone to learn that I'm totally behind the revival of short shorts as well. Leading the charge, his hems creeping ever higher up his impressively muscled thighs, is the Irish actor Paul Mescal. Mescal debuted a skimpy Gucci pair last summer and this weekend he was at it again at Glastonbury. So was Harry Styles. I don't much like Mescal's specific shorts — they look too much like boxers for my taste, as if he's forgotten to put his trousers on — but I'm all for their length. Or lack of. Comfortable, flattering, liberating, sexy: what's not to like?
• Hurrah, budgie smugglers are back! I wear mine supertight
I grew up on short shorts. Back in the Eighties we had Gary Lineker and John Barnes turning out for England with their meaty hamstrings on full display. Stuart Pearce went even further, pulling his already short shorts so high they were practically a nappy, although I wouldn't say that to Psycho's face. In tennis, Boris Becker's thighs won Wimbledon in 1985. George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley did the video for Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go in tiny two-tone shorts. They both later disavowed the choice and I never understood why: they looked great. I even thought Angus Young's schoolboy shorts in AC/DC were kind of cool. Silly, but cool. Perfect stagewear too, with all those lights.
The short shorts leading man of that era, however, has to be Tom Selleck in Magnum, PI. The moustache and Hawaiian shirts got all the press, but for me the star of the show was Selleck's smart high-waisted and absurdly high-cut shorts. I was delighted to discover that as recently as last year Selleck, now aged 79, was pictured still rocking bare legs — and still looking hot! — out in sunny California. He must be delighted that Mescal has picked up his baton. They should get together.
Other Eighties favourites I'd like to see revived: cap-sleeved T-shirts, bandanas, sweatbands, legwarmers, billowy silk shirts, bullet belts.
Selleck's hemline later, sadly, dropped a few inches from the glory days, but not so far as to constitute the dreaded Bermuda, that tailored, knee-length poor excuse for a pair of shorts. I'll wear any shorts except Bermudas. I'll go cargo, even though they make my legs look about 18 inches long. I'll go scoutmaster baggy, especially in khaki for a bit of Long Range Desert Group retro-hero stolen-valour chic. I'll go bog-standard nylon-with-a-net for the gym. Once, in Munich for Oktoberfest, I went full lederhosen, rather spooking myself by how much I liked them.
• Now I know why women fall in love with me
But mostly I'm a plain cotton man, as short as possible while still allowing for pockets and not breaking accepted standards of decency. Comfort is a huge factor, now that southern England has imported a Saharan climate. When not in short shorts I spent much of Sunday in a recycling bin full of iced water.
Is such thigh-flashing age-appropriate? Don't know, don't care. I refuse to recognise the validity of the question.
One of the few bonuses of global warming is that the shorts-wearing season in the UK will soon be extended to LA-level duration. Not so long ago, even a dedicated shortist like me had to accept a cover-up between November and March, inclusive. Now, it's sun's out, quads out, all year round!
Except when it's cold, obviously.
A pet insurance company says the lifetime (average: 13 years) cost of owning a Romanian Mioritic shepherd dog is a shade over £16,000. That's the purchase price, insurance, grooming and food. This Romanian Mioritic creature is a big old unit, weighing up to 130lb, hairy-looking as well, both factors making it high maintenance and high cost. But even a humble collie comes in at close to £9,000 over its span. With 13 million dogs in the UK, the canine economy starts to look significant.
While fond of (some) dogs, I'm more of a cat man. You'd think cats were less expensive than dogs, but having just spent £500 getting two kittens neutered, I'm not in the mood to agree with that argument. We also once spent close on three grand (in tranches, not in one go; I'd have pulled the plug) treating a cat that died anyway. Beloved animals impoverish much of the population, and we wouldn't have it any other way.
Historians at the University of St Andrews have been analysing medieval manuscripts to broaden knowledge of what passed for medical care, wellness and grooming in the Middle Ages. It turns out the Europeans of a millennium ago were not nearly as scrofulous, starved and smelly as we, their descendants, had been led to believe. Rather, they were every bit as into exotic herbs — cumin, cinnamon and saffron — as today's foodies. They took baths (except in November, a month in which they were also told to abstain from sex, which was probably for the best) and were fond of such healthy foods as celery, grapes and rhubarb.
They also favoured shampoo made from lizards, which is surely due for a comeback among Gen Zers, provided the lizards are organic. Admittedly, the good people of 1,000 years ago also drank wine for breakfast, swore by bloodletting and believed the health of certain organs was governed by different signs of the zodiac. So, those centuries were not called the Dark Ages entirely for nothing.