A Dress Sense

As I went on at primary school in Glasgow one thing always intrigued me. The fellow pupils of mine who come from poorer homes always looked better dressed than the rest of us. While we didn’t come from rich homes, we were always well-shod, well-clad and well-fed. However what we called ‘the poor boys’ turned up each day in Harris tweed suits, short trousers of course, dark blue jerseys with red piping on the collar, black socks with the similar red tops and brand new leather boots all provided by courtesy of Glasgow Corporation, meaning the rate payers of the City. I was often envious in my zipped-up lumber jacket and old baseball boots. In fact, I was the one who felt under-privileged, but it does occur to me now how good the old Glasgow was to its less fortunate citizens.