Colin Dunne gave an excellent and accurate description in The Mail last week of the bare legs of an adult British male being like “uncooked pork sausages”, or “stringy calves and sunken thighs all coated in what looks like goat’s hair”.
But his observation only tackled a small aspect of the phenomenon that is Ugly Britain.
Go to any Southern European holiday spot this summer and try to spot the Brits. It isn’t hard.
Lofty men with scrappy body hair as though it’s been sporadically stuck on; a fuzzy beard they think looks macho but would make any French woman grimace.
A bod either like a beanpole or swelling with oversized muscle wrapped in tragic tattoos, which only serves to reveal their gym b-word status and make them look like some sort of caricature with Popeye arms and a pea-sized head.
Pink women lying gracelessly on deckchairs, stubbly hairs beginning to show on their legs because they still haven’t learned the art of waxing or epilating, faces pale and blotchy because every other day of the year they smother it in make-up.
And even when the British do soak up some proper sun, no full-bred Brit can master the tan as a Spaniard or Italian does. In fact, most fail completely.
As night falls, British men and women alike prepare for a “mad one”, ready to grace the strip with their scarlet presence.
Hot pants that reveal more crimson bum cheek than anyone wants to see, Primark tank tops showing “dench” arms that look like undercooked chicken drumsticks.
The locals look on with a combination of pity and amusement as we loudly jaunt around, glugging on overpriced fish bowls, either unaware or without a care that we are by far the worst-looking in the vicinity.
Rigorous scientific analysis of this well known phenomena, and Lipstick Alley's resident PHD professional opinions here:
Oh boy.
I live on the Costa del Sol and let me tell you, fat pasty sunburnt British bodies are the least of their worries in the ugliness department. Voices like nails on a chalkboard, loutish, entitled colonialist attitudes, loud ( I mean LOUD) drunkenness, spewing, pissing, pooping and shagging in public. I have seen and heard it ALL.
I grew up on a farm and a barn load of 50 head of cattle is quieter, better mannered, cleaner, better smelling, better tempered and better looking than a table of four Mancunian football hooligans and their screeching girlfriends.
Jesus be a pox that keeps them at home this summer. The past 2 summers with Covid have been heaven without them.
LAFF
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I wanted to like this but it was written by a self-hating british student sneering at the lower classes
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I'm a Bong and was creased laughing thinking finally I'd found a Burger with a sense of humour but the smile literally vanished off my face when I realised it was another Bong.
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You're so steeped in your provincial culture that you didn't immediately recognize that isn't proper English, it's a strange Bongoloid dialect.
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Many such cases! Nobody hates the British quite like the British.
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