The collar story

The collar story

In this mobile phone era, when caller identity is the buzz-word, ‘collar’ identity may take a backseat. Collars, the circular leathery or textile pieces, that go round the necks like a noose might strangle the wearer if errors are made in their size. Nevertheless, they do give an assertive identity.

It is difficult at times to conclude, while meeting a lady or gentleman airing a ferocious dog, as to who is leading who. At times it is the master or the mistress. Other times it is the dog. But to attach a proprietorial leash to the animal, a collar is essential. If such an animal roams around without its cervical identity, it may be collared and taken in a dog van to its ultimate doom.

Of all the show pieces a human being has added to haute couture, the tie does not hang back in its claim as a colourful example. No wonder it would be a torture to many in a hurry to the workplace to properly seat a double knot on the Adam’s apple. But it sure should remind him of a noose round his neck if his actions are out of moral turns. Can one think of a tie without a collar?

Spondylosis gives many men stiff necks because of which they cannot turn their necks bird-like every which way on the axis. Cervical collars are worn to correct this malady. Though wearing this contraption, one looks like a toffee-coloured tribal beauty with a series of tightly packed rings around her neck, this collar sure adds another dimension to the character of a collar that it is curative as well.

The club I visit now and then to wet the whistle permits T-shirts but with a rider that it should have a collar. One can afford to forget his identity card but not the collar. Once I had to buy one from their stores to gain entry. I was fuming with silent rage till I read about the following incident.

A supple sportsperson was barred from an exclusive club in New York when he tried to gain entry with his ladylove. The reason? He was wearing a collarless shirt. “Do you know who I am?” he thundered, “an Olympic gold medallist in 100 metre race.” Retorted the doorman without batting an eyelid. “That sure helps, Sir. Why not sprint home fast and come back wearing one with a collar.”

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