Shark Bait

There was considerably more attractive untanned skin on display on various females around the pool and on the beach where I was staying on holiday, but there is nonetheless something not quite right about legs that have seen little or no sun for months suddenly bared for all to see. That sad state of affairs (mine, not the females) comes about each winter when we travel to Florida after a Northern California coastal summer too cool for the beach.

Of course, even if the Bay area weather was warmer my legs would no doubt remain pale. I am a firm believer that a man's lower extremities ought to be covered in public unless the water is lapping near his ankles. That means linen trousers for tropical wear instead of shorts; indeed I have but two pair of Ghurka shorts that may be worn for household chores in the unlikely event that I should be overcome with ambition on a summer's day.

In the photo, one of John Laing's best in class polos, Vilebrequin swim trunks and a pair of sockless Sloop slipons. Between shoes and shorts there is only shark bait.