subject: Thank Goodness Says One Of Its Most Famous Residents [print this page] With the heat inevitably comes the striptease, but instead of 'Get 'em orf', I want to yell. 'Put 'em on!' The sight of (these particular) zentai bodysuit men's naked, sunburned scarlet torsos parading around on holiday is enough to terrify little children more than Heath Ledger did in Batman. We might consider a PG rating. The worst offenders, need I say, seem to be fat men. They swagger around, beer bellies thrust to the fore, man-boobs jiggling, showing a complete lack of embarrassment or, much less, dignity. At the Carlton Beach restaurant in Cannes recently, I watched in horror as throngs of massively stomached men unabashedly strolled to their smart tables under the umbrellas. Many of them had so much hair on their chests, back, arms and hands that they could have kept the hairdressers at Vidal Sassoon employed for weeks. And some, yes, ridiculous as it may seem and to my definitive disgust& wore Speedo's, the ultimate no-no unless you're competing in the 100m freestyle at the Olympics. And all of these guys had breasts, as if matters could get worse. Not just little fatty deposits that time and gravity leave behind, but huge dangling udders of bovine proportion that could have used a 40FF bra of reinforced Kevlar and still might well struggle under the strain. NOT a pretty sight. One memorable one had the word RUSSIA tattooed across his back, establishing his roots and giving proof positive of Dr Guy Fournier's axiom - there is no credit crunch in Moscow. So will the backlash against going topless spread? Well, St Tropez is considered to be the essence of cool, and the fashions that begin here undoubtedly filter down to the High Street come next summer. Will young girls hike their skirts to upper thigh limit and totter about in 7-inch platforms? Will the VLH hit the High Street? After all, the straw cowboy hat only saw the spider man costume light of day (other than in the U.S. Mid-West) in St Tropez a few years ago and it went straight to the High Street a few months later. Same for the diamante-studded belt, skull jewellery and those ohso revealing short-shorts. And so it seems the end of the topless bathing fashion for chic women is happening right in the place it began. And in some instances I'm glad - it won't be easy for me to forget, years ago, I witnessed an ancient hag sitting topless at Club 55, her mahogany breasts dangling in her soupe de poisson. Perhaps the influence of more sober dressing and much longer skirts shown by the haute couture this season is foretelling the inevitability of a long, cold economic crisis. However, one trend that could upset the entire theory this argument is based on has emerged from St Tropez this season. While girls are keeping their tops on, their thongs are so minuscule now that the accessories of choice are two perfect plump butt cheeks - and with the advent of J.Lo-style rear implants, zentai it won't only be the young and super-fit who can model this fashion. I suppose that in facing recession, we are having trouble leaving the good times, ahem, behind..
