Dressing Down for the Brylcream Boys

News that the Royal Air Force plans to relax its standards of dress on Fridays to boost “inclusivity,” dismayed me but such is life in our topsy-turvy society that, I suppose, one should not be surprised by the latest manifestations of wokefulness.  But I shall seize the opportunity to appeal for a pardon for an incident in early 1966. Newly arrived as a pilot on my first operational Squadron and led astray by a 2^nd tourist Navigator, I was reported to my Squadron Commander for being in the Officers’ Mess bar in working dress after 1900 hours.  This, in those regulated days, was specifically contrary to Mess Rules which required No 1 Uniform, if working, or lounge suit if off duty.  My Squadron Commander appeared at about 10 minutes past the hour, dressed in No1, hat and gloves, and ordered my Navigator guide and I to leave the bar immediately and change our clothing appropriately.  The incident was concluded in a one-side interview the following Monday morning, this time me wearing the hat and gloves.  No names, no pack drill, of course, but I do remember that the Squadron Commander’s wife’s horse was encouraged to exercise in the foyer of the Officers’ Mess – presumably as a reprisal for the wives of the pranksters who were obliged, by the lady in question, to wear hats on even the most trivial of social occasions.