Winter Draws On

That's a rather weak pun that doesn't work when it's written down. Obviously it should be drawers. It is the sort of rudery that was once forbidden by the BBC. Wikipedia tells me it was proscribed by a document called The Green Book, a guide for light entertainment producers to promote wholesome family values. It merited a specific listing, so it must have been considered utterly unspeakable. Other things that were strictly verboten were effeminacy in men and immorality of any kind.

The article says that the book was kept under lock and key. I fail to understand how this worked; why would you want to keep your rules and guidelines secret from the people who had to abide by them? Still, this was the forties and fifties, the BBC was run by men who wore tweed jackets and smoked pipes, so obviously they knew.

Which brings me seamlessly onto my favourite topic of cardigans. The temperature has dropped noticeably in the last couple of days, which prompted me to seek out an oldie but goody.

I bought it on fleabay some years back, it's knitted by hand (on a machine) and is all knit, so it curls. Aficionados of the knitter's art will appreciate this is why most patterns go knit one - pearl one. This is about the full extent of my knowledge of knitting. It has fisheye buttons arranged horizontally, I think they're supposed to keep you warmer that way.

I imagine a knowledge of knitting, however slight, would be enough to bring down upon me the full weight of opprobrium available to a wielder of The Green Book. Such knowledge in a man would be a sure sign of the very effeminacy that the book would strongly disapprove of. As well as making me unsuitable for the wireless, it would probably have attracted the attention of the local constabulary too, being so obviously an affront to civilised society, not to mention a security risk. While it was never, as I recall from my more radical days, a stated aim that gay people should be able to get married, it gives me much pleasure to call back to that period and shout, we can fucking well get married now!

Rant over. As a bonus, here's a picture of the cardigans I have had my valet lay out ready to be worn next week. I dare say when it comes to the one with the badge he will advise me along the lines of, “May I suggest that sir forego the badge with today's outfit.”. I will of course slap him soundly for his impertinence, he'd be disappointed and upset if I didn't.