Are “Pansy Pants” First Step To Skirts For Men? Or Is It Vengeance?

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 12, Issue 11, 9 January 1948, Page 5

Are “Pansy Pants” First Step To Skirts For Men? Or Is It Vengeance?

With the firm establishment in our society of slacks and shorts for women, it is probably not unnatural that the sterner sex should seek distinction by going all floral. Still, there are a lot of conservative souls who still regard a dainty confection in floral whatever-it-is with curlylipped scorn. However, a pair of “pansy” pants doesn’t necessarily indicate decadence. Lately, at Ohope, and in town, some bronzed and hairy-legged giants have been seen swaggering about in things that could have been cut from Aunt Louisa’s curtains—or Sister Susie’s,, satin thingummies. It looks rather odd to see a deepchested tough guy blowing the suds off his beer in the sort of get-up that the social columns often describe as “radiating youthful charm.” Some bar patrons think the joke is going a bit far, but one old lad with a benevolent eye, a cherrywood pipe and a beery breath consented to discuss the thing objectively. He had nothing else to do, anyway. And he had a theory. “Look, mister”, he said, “I think it’s revenge, see! It’s this way: Women come along and pinch our pants, so to speak. Orlright, we goes all pretty-pretty, see. It’s the only way we can get back at ’em. Now look at the fat bloke over there, him with the palm trees all over his stern—he looks pretty ridiculous with them fat ‘airy legs stickin’ out of the dainty lingerie But is ’e any worse than some of the female sea-elephants you see waddlin’ down to the water in play suits fit for any blinkin’ nymph, an’ them a full forty years past playin’?” That’s one opinion. Maybe it has merit. Maybe not. But the old chap giggled knowingly in his whiskers and said he wouldn’t wear any of these new-fangled glamour rigs, not on our adjectival life he wouldn’t. He wasn’t after any revenge, but had we a rusty eld shillin’ 7 Talkin’ was such dry work. He got his shillin’.'

Strange as it may seem, in all the welter of wierd attire that graces (or has one dropped a syllable?) our beaches, a little thing like a necktie is still capable of attracting attention. A daring citizen who attended a cabaret at Ohope the other night achieved considerable distinction with a gorgeous bow featuring large red spots on a ground azure.