In which I learn that not all bodies look sexy in quality underwear

My wife thinks David Gandy is an attractive man. I understand.

Mr. Gandy has lent his name recently to a new range of underwear from UK retailer M&S. (For those who are interested in that kind of thing, here are photos of the man, the underwear, and the man wearing the underwear.)

It so happened that my decennial change of underwear was due. The obvious thing was to buy some Gandy smalls. And so Gandy smalls I bought.

Things haven’t panned quite out as I hoped, though.

I slipped into my new cotton trunks (other underwear styles are available) and assumed a pose I considered to be almost exactly the same as one on the page linked to above. (Just imagine sexy — in a manly way — if you can’t be arsed following the link.) Then I checked the mirror.

I checked the mirror because the expression in my wife’s eyes suggested something wasn’t working. And the mirror didn’t lie. Even though I was wearing Gandy underwear and posing in Gandy style, I looked nothing like David Gandy. Not a hint of similarity, even.

I felt cheated.

My wife felt cheated, too, I’m sure, yet she persuaded me I would be unable to return the underwear on the basis of our mutual disappointment.

Damn you David Gandy and your promise of manly sexiness. Or sexy manliness.

My wife and I have agreed that I can still wear the new underwear but that they work much better when I am fully clothed.