Banning people from moving from one place to another seems to be all the rage in some political quarters. There was Donal Trump's abortive ban on Muslims entering the US, but closer to home many home counties residents will suffer if St Ives in Cornwall manage to ‘ban’ second home owners. Generally speaking, I am of the laissez faire school of thought: ‘Let it be’ is not only a classic anthem but a solid mantra with which to live your life.

Conversely however, there are certain items and behaviours that deserve vitriol, abuse and prohibition. Recently a public house in London banned ‘zany jumpers’. Some attention seeking buffoon, in her moment of glory, then proceeded to stand fully regaled in a hideous red article emblazoned with two inappropriately placed puddings as she invoked the ire of the landlords and the attention of ITV evening news.

The reasoning behind the ban is unclear, although I support it 110 per cent. Wacky behaviour and desperation to be noticed amongst the braying flock can take many forms. Some achieve greatness through intellect, writings or artistic endeavour. To me, it takes a desperate charlatan to feel the need on a cold, frosty morning to pull out a pair of Scooby Doo socks and think ‘I’ll look good in these today’. The truth is they know they look awful, but to add some interest to their personality, they mistakenly believe that by wearing a smug grin and cartoon socks somehow adds some purchase to their chi whilst spreading fashion glee.

As well as cartoon-themed socks, I would add comedy ties to the list. I pledge to thee here and now, if you ever see me wearing one you have my permission to grapple me to the floor and throttle me to within an inch of my life. The back story of my injuries would be a heck of a lot more interesting than being bedecked in a hideous blue and orange article depicting Bugs Buggy being chased from shell to lining by the small guy with the milk bottle glasses armed with a sawn-off.

I am fully aware that this week’s column may seem contemptuous and many with throw it down on the kitchen floor in fury whilst spitting hummus across the solid oak dining table. But why? It will be through guilt that you have been rumbled, or that your husband has been outed. Wacky clothing has no place in modern society. It looks stupid, makes the wearer look even stupider and encourages people who need to get out more to be the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. It’s just not cool. The worst culprits? Middle aged uncles.

Now the reasoning is slightly different. Being able to connect with teenagers is a crucial weapon within their toolkit. It’s a little like Stockholm syndrome. The kids often don’t want to be seen with Mad Uncle Buck and the same goes for MUB. To make the experience more palatable, uncle needs to find some common ground with nephew. I have tried and failed many times to get on the yoof level, based around television and music knowledge. My starting baseline is having a conversation about the Beatles, which is often met with disdain and mock shock at my outdatedness.

To overcome this lack of pop culture bonding, I once wore comedy apparel in the mistaken belief that the nephew would think uncle was ‘sick’. In truth, many years later I am constantly reminded of the time I wore Fred Flintstone socks in a vain attempt to add a bit of yabba dabba doo inside the shoe.

Ultimately, adults look like Timmy Mallet or Su Pollard when wearing crazy garb. It is not endearing or aesthetically pleasing. It invites not attention, but pity at the desperation to be noticed.

That said, I am meeting with my drinking buddies, ‘MAMISA’ on the morrow. As a founder member of Middle Aged Men in St Albans, I am looking to out-wack them with my new ‘Wolf Face fleece hoodie’ apparel which should make me stand out as the faux fur leader of the fashion pack.