Seventh grade at St. Columban. I was in the gym on the bleachers before school started. It was a casual dress day so we got to wear jeans instead of our jumpers, a treat for us. Gina, one of the popular girls, showed me how to french cuff my jeans. A momentous occasion. Mind you none of my jeans were long enough to begin with because I grew too fast, so french cuffed they were a good six inches too short. I was stylin’, I assure you.

Flash forward 13 years.

Walking to work today what do I see? A guy – a very cool guy strutting with that it-may-look-like-I-have-a-limp-but-really-I’m-just-cool-like-that strut – had his pants french cuffed.

It was the greatest thing I have seen all day.