Where new writing finds its voice

A Make-Over Mistake

John Hegley

There’s a photo of my father, I think it’s Monte Carlo,
I’d say the 1930s. A young man fired up and dashing, in
spatted shoes and cravat. In the Seventies and his sixties,
when he was retired, I thought it would be a good idea
if he could be a little more trendy. Just because he was 
getting old, didn’t mean he had to look like he’d lost it. So,
he and I went to Bristol City centre and bought tank tops,
and purple flared trousers. Also, at my behest, he grew 
his sideburns. When the changes were complete, I didn’t
say anything because I didn’t want to offend him, but
I thought we had made an error. And perhaps because he
didn’t want to offend me either, only very gradually did
he ease back into the man he had once been.