My suitcase yawns hungrily as I prepare to pack for visit to Thailand number three for 2018. As I took -out my clothes from the cupboard, I was reminded how my kit has changed over the past twenty-three years. In my Pattaya salad-days, I took tailored, short-sleeved shirts and trousers with a crease in my suitcase. As ever, a prisoner to my upbringing, dressing for dinner has always been de rigour while on holiday. Come to think of it, when I used to holiday in Grenada and other Caribbean islands, hotels would insist on such attire. Of course, shorts and T-shirts were fine on the beach....but once it was time for my pina colada and dinner, I obeyed the rules. And was happy to do so.

In the 90s, most of the gay falangs I saw in Boystown dressed in much the same way. An older guy in a bar in shorts was a rare sight. I dressed in much same way as my contemporaries. Now my evening dress consists of chinos, jeans and polo shirts. The more formal stuff ended up in Oxfam shops years ago. Come to think of it, it's probably still there.

I suppose this is progress. As long as we falangs look clean and tidy, dress appropriate to our ages and (for me, very importantly) don't embarrass our tee-raks, then why worry? Not that the issue of dress in Thailand is entirely angst-free for me. P's politeness is such that he'd never criticise directly, but over the past few years he has made it clear that my refusal to buy trousers that are more narrowly-cut than I'm used to has led him, very subtly, to suggest that perhaps my chinos were perhaps a tad old- fashioned.

As usual he won and they are now similar in cut to the ones I demanded of my parents as a young adolescent. Plus ca change. At least he's not insisting that I buy the winkle-pickers with which I was obsessed back then..

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