Each winter, as the UK endures months of cold, damp misery, something extraordinary happens. While most of us wear scarves, jumpers and an air of quiet resentment, an increasingly common yet baffling creature emerges from the sleet: the British Man in Knee-Length Shorts. It's -2°C, it's frosty and somewhere, a car won't start. Yet there he is.
He strides through frostbitten streets, calves glowing bright pink, while the rest of us resemble bundled laundry. Sometimes the shorts are teamed with footwear that is even less winter-appropriate – a pair of flip flops. They slap against icy pavements like a metronome counting down to hypothermia. Toes go numb. Ankles turn blue. But still he persists, because changing shoes would mean admitting weakness.
At first you think it must be a mistake. Maybe he's taking the bins out, or he's been locked out. But no, he's walking with purpose. Sometimes to Tesco, or the pub. Occasionally, and most alarmingly, to work.
What truly unsettles observers, however, is not the shorts alone. It's the contradiction. For while his legs are boldly exposed to sub-zero winds, the upper half is dressed for an Antarctic expedition. A padded coat the size of a duvet, a woolly hat pulled down to the eyebrows, suggesting that he does understand the concept of cold - just not below the waist.
Asked if he's cold, Winter Shorts Man will reply, 'Nah, not really,' while visibly vibrating like a phone on silent. He may add, 'It's not that bad,' as a gritting lorry drives past, peppering his bare shins with rock salt. The shorts, we're told, are 'more comfortable,' which is British for 'I made a decision once and now it's my whole personality'.
Scientists have proposed several theories. One is that the legs of some British men are governed by a separate climate system. Another is that the shorts are not about temperature at all, but about identity - a quiet declaration of resilience and masculinity. As for the flip flops, no one knows - possibly a cry for help?
And so, the mystery endures. If these men truly 'don't feel the cold', why the coat? Why the hat? Why the frost-bitten ankles? Perhaps it is best not to ask.
We watch as he disappears into the freezing fog, his knees numb, his padded coat and shorts defying logic and basic trouser etiquette. The inexplicable sight of a man dressed for three seasons at once in winter has become a part of the British identity, like our love of tea, queueing and complaining about potholes.
Image: WixAI
