Oh God, yes, I wilt at the sight of sag.

I thought you might more sag at the sight of wilt.

While I agree in principle with this comment, it reminds me of a fabulous bit of sartorial snobbery I witnessed one summer many years ago. I was at the Henley Royal Regatta (as a competitor, I hasten to add) and was walking past the entrance to the Stewards' Enclosure. The Stewards' has a very strict dress code: jackets and ties for the men; ladies' hemlines may not be above the knee. A young lady in a modest, but above-the-knee, dress was being politely refused entry by an immaculately-dressed official:

she: "but it's only just above the knee"
he: "yes, but it is above the knee, and the rule is quite clear. I'm sorry, madam, we cannot admit you to the enclosure"
she: "It's a silly rule. Can't you just look the other way and let me in?"
he: "I'm not saying it's not a lovely dress. But if we relax the dress rules for you, soon we'll end up looking like the enclosure at Ascot or Wimbledon, and heaven forfend the Stewards would ever stoop so low."
she: "Oh. I'll go and change, then."
he: "Thank you, ma'am."

You really are 'BE's poshest man alive" aren't you?

Nah, mate - I just knows how to sit down and pull my handle harder than the next guy (insert your favourite self-abuse joke here). That's all rowing's about, really. And anyway, mere competitors at Henley don't get to go into such rarefied enclaves as the Stewards' - well, not more than once during the regatta, and certainly not (gasp) while dressed in sweaty rowing gear .

I had a girlfriend who was a US junior women's rowing champion. She was very talented.

I had a girlfriend who was very experienced with coxing.

I married her.

You are Sid James.... I claim my $5.