Smart casual - the dress code from hell

Smart Casual - those words always fill me with utter dread.

In this instance, just to clarify, I'm not talking about 'casual' as being someone who went along dressed trendily to football matches, purely to look fashionable later as they attempted to knock seven colours of jobbies out of their opposite numbers amongst the away section.

You probably got that from the 'smart' casual reference though.

Otherwise the contradiction in terms alarm would have gone into meltdown.

No, I'm talking about smart casual, the last two words which appear on many an invitation, especially at this time of year, where the bosses ask you along to the staff Christmas night out, and worry that you'll take the black tie thing as an order which must be obeyed.

They really feel they don't want to come across as too heavy handed; a feeling which subsides exceptionally speedily the moment they get the repair bill for the office photocopier which a drunk staff member eagerly straddled in order to photocopy a part of their body which should never be replicated on any size of paper.

Smart Casual - the dress code from hell.

It's true, men don't have the faintest idea what the term smart casual means, except that it's trouble.

In fairness, I doubt many women have much of an iota either. Part of me actually thinks it might be an in joke just to make us suffer more.

If not though, here's the thing.

Don't type smart casual as the dress code at the bottom of the invite as though it gives us some option, and provides us with hours of endless fun choosing the perfect outfit.

It doesn't, and never will.

We're a simple people.

Understand this, and understand it well.

We want to be told what to do in this one instance only.

If you want us to wear dress trousers and a shirt but no tie - tell us that.

Probably best to include colours as well.

Tell us to wear smart shoes, not trainers.

Tell us to wear a warm winter jacket.

Tell us to wear a flower in our hair.

We don't care.

Make the invitation require attendees to arrive decked out as resplendent vibrant purple dinosaurs with pink polka dots (but don't make it a dinosaur of our choosing. Plump for a T-Rex).

Above all, just don't give us room for error, because we'll find it.

Like moths to a flame all men are drawn hypnotically to getting 'smart casual' wrong.

And the ones who aren't host 'Queer Eye For The Straight Guy'.

So this year come the Christmas Party, please, P-L-E-A-S-E remember - smart casual is not an option, but a curse.

Jx