Why does everyone dress so appallingly in Essex?

Welcome to Bromley, the less tanned little sister of Essex. Less Prada more Primark, Bromley High Street is the number one hotspot for the legions of young Joey Essex wannabes and their fertility restricting skinny jeans.

Recent testament to Bromley’s fashion crisis came after my Grandpa was questioned by a group of young Bromley lads as he was walking around the shit hole that is Intu shopping centre: “Oy mate your bag is sick, where you get it fam?”

Featuring an adjustable cross body strap for convenient carrying and touch and close fastening pockets, all he needed was a tip-exed Nike Swoosh and my Grandpa would have a custom made Nike Heritage bag. Sadly the ladies of Sundridge Court Care home did not share the same enthusiasm for his heart monitor pouch. 

Having spent many hours crammed on teen riddled buses – damn the shitty 208 bus service- I have seen more than my fair share of exposed butt cheeks. I am yet to experience a bus journey where I haven’t had someones arse shoved in my face as they bend down to pick up their fake Louise Vuitton.

Why do the majority of female teenagers in Brommers think it is socially acceptable to wear shorts half the size of my size eight M&S full bloomers?

Displaying your derriere to the general public while laying across the lap of some lad in Queens Gardens does not make you a FHM model: do not be fooled by chazza<3xx’s claim that you look “Fire, Peng and totally Tumblr”.

As for the increased admission of OAPs to the PRUHs cardiology department: owners of Top Shop MOTO mini denim hotpants you have a lot to answer for.

Don’t get me started on the puppy fat revealing mini crop tops adored by the Kylie Jenner protégés roaming Church House Gardens. Girls listen up, you are not a member of the Kardashians-Jenner Clan: wearing the entirety of Wilko’s makeup collection and shoving a pair of socks down your training bra will not change that.

Sadly, this hyper-sexualized fashion culture is not unique to Bromley. At risk of sounding like my Grandmother, youngsters today have no modesty: their bodies are writing cheques their minds cannot cash.

Throngs of teenagers are being prematurely sexualized by the (un) dress code promoted by celebrities such as Miley Cyrus, Rihanna and Beyonce. If you ask me they’d all benefit from a trip to the cashmere aisle in Marks and Spencer.