Children's Dress Codes?

[Calamity Jane]

Originally Posted by Porg

Picture the scene....

Anonymous city/town centre. Woolies, superdrug, Boots, Barratts shoes....

Woman with buggy, screaming child threatening to damage the hearing of anyone within a 20m exlusion zone. The mother is being yelled at by a toddler, dressed in a tracksuit and trainers, a clone of daddy who is sauntering along 10m behing pretending to be the cool guy he thought he was before he got her up the duff after 10 pints. Technically, the brat should be called "alley" if they were to follow the Beckhams lead. Woman (i dare not call her a lady) is dressed in low cut jeans with the bottoms rolled up to mid shin. Her crop top shows her midrif which has never recovered since the birth of brat mkII, and consequently hangs over the waistband. Her belly button is circumnavigated by an unreadable tattoo, presumably done by a mate at lunchtime when she was skiving from school. The piercing in her belly button is straining under the pressure, and could probably take someone's eye out if it were to rupture and break free.
As she is jostled by the toddler, her earings jangle to the point that she probably struggles to hear what the child is screeching about. When she dies, she will not be cremated, more melted down for scrap. Slowly the "family" makes its weary way towards Wilkinson's and Primark.
Tonight the brats will be deposited at her mothers, and the parents will go out on the town and get drunk on WKD and Smirnoff Ice. They will have a slanging match in the street and he will be arrested. Again.

I love Britain.

You must have been to Romford

[Chris Bone]

Originally Posted by beanie

are they the ones with a pram in one hand and a mobile in the other?

And a fag in their mouth! blowing smoke all over the new born bairn.

[Moray]

Originally Posted by Porg

Picture the scene....

Anonymous city/town centre. Woolies, superdrug, Boots, Barratts shoes....

Woman with buggy, screaming child threatening to damage the hearing of anyone within a 20m exlusion zone. The mother is being yelled at by a toddler, dressed in a tracksuit and trainers, a clone of daddy who is sauntering along 10m behing pretending to be the cool guy he thought he was before he got her up the duff after 10 pints. Technically, the brat should be called "alley" if they were to follow the Beckhams lead. Woman (i dare not call her a lady) is dressed in low cut jeans with the bottoms rolled up to mid shin. Her crop top shows her midrif which has never recovered since the birth of brat mkII, and consequently hangs over the waistband. Her belly button is circumnavigated by an unreadable tattoo, presumably done by a mate at lunchtime when she was skiving from school. The piercing in her belly button is straining under the pressure, and could probably take someone's eye out if it were to rupture and break free.
As she is jostled by the toddler, her earings jangle to the point that she probably struggles to hear what the child is screeching about. When she dies, she will not be cremated, more melted down for scrap. Slowly the "family" makes its weary way towards Wilkinson's and Primark.
Tonight the brats will be deposited at her mothers, and the parents will go out on the town and get drunk on WKD and Smirnoff Ice. They will have a slanging match in the street and he will be arrested. Again.

I love Britain.

PMSL

Porg at her best

Made my day!

[littleH]

Originally Posted by Porg

Picture the scene....

Anonymous city/town centre. Woolies, superdrug, Boots, Barratts shoes....

Woman with buggy, screaming child threatening to damage the hearing of anyone within a 20m exlusion zone. The mother is being yelled at by a toddler, dressed in a tracksuit and trainers, a clone of daddy who is sauntering along 10m behing pretending to be the cool guy he thought he was before he got her up the duff after 10 pints. Technically, the brat should be called "alley" if they were to follow the Beckhams lead. Woman (i dare not call her a lady) is dressed in low cut jeans with the bottoms rolled up to mid shin. Her crop top shows her midrif which has never recovered since the birth of brat mkII, and consequently hangs over the waistband. Her belly button is circumnavigated by an unreadable tattoo, presumably done by a mate at lunchtime when she was skiving from school. The piercing in her belly button is straining under the pressure, and could probably take someone's eye out if it were to rupture and break free.
As she is jostled by the toddler, her earings jangle to the point that she probably struggles to hear what the child is screeching about. When she dies, she will not be cremated, more melted down for scrap. Slowly the "family" makes its weary way towards Wilkinson's and Primark.
Tonight the brats will be deposited at her mothers, and the parents will go out on the town and get drunk on WKD and Smirnoff Ice. They will have a slanging match in the street and he will be arrested. Again.

I love Britain.

Don't forget those that wear tracksuit bottoms tucked into their white socks and then put on high heals!! i mean WHAT???

I have a rather bad habbit of passing a group of chavs in the car and always end up shouting CHAV at them - one day they'll hear and i'll get a kicking i'm sure.

But check this - i've been told that chavs are extreemly proud of being chavs!!

[Bantam]

Originally Posted by Porg

Nope.

One of the girls i work with has two daughters, one 6, the other 10. She came in from the garden to find the 6 year old dancing infront of the TV with her knickers pulled right up her bum (wedgie stylee) provocativley (sp) dancing to the "call on me" song (cant remember who does it) where there are scantily clad women gyrating all over the screen.
So when we ram sexuality at our children like this, we can hardly wonder why.

I was watching Hit40UK one morning when the Khia record 'My Neck, My Back' came on. The video may have been great on TV-X at 11pm but not at 10:00am on a morning when my 4-year-old was watching.

I also listened to the 'uncut' version via iTunes. 30-seconds was enough.

In all honesty, I'm getting sick and tired of chav music with way too much compression ripping off old 80's tracks hooks and calling it music.

Remember Music for Pleasure? Maybe they should have 'Music for Chavs' now.

Anyway, so I complained to Ofcom, and they ruled in my favour!


Khia ‘My Neck, My Back’ Hit40UK, Channel 4, 23 October, 09:55 Kiss TV, 23 October Chart Show TV, 5 October, 17:05

Introduction
Seven viewers complained that the video which accompanied the track My Neck, My Back was sexually suggestive and inappropriate for the time of broadcast. The video featured three women in bikinis washing a truck while being hosed down by firemen. The complainants also considered that the track’s lyrics were unsuitable.

Response
Channel 4 said that the song had two versions. One was more explicit than the other, which was an edited ‘clean’ version made available by the record company specifically for playing pre watershed. The edited version, while suggestive, contained no lyrics unsuitable for daytime play.
Channel 4 understood that there was only one ‘clean’ video version for broadcast. In a tradition common to many music videos, and particularly to R&B, the girls in the video were scantily clad and dancing suggestively, but at no point was there any nudity or overtly sexual behaviour. Channel 4 said that the presenter of Hit40UK explained that the artist claimed the aim of the song was to sexually empower women and within this context the video could be seen as a parody of the way that scantily clad women draped over cars had been used as an image to sell products to men. Channel 4 believed that, while the video and the lyrics (in their clean version) certainly had suggestive elements to them, at no stage did they become overtly salacious or unsuitable for the time of day. The only men featured in the video were a group of fully dressed firemen hosing the girls and the car – an image which played on the idea of sexual fantasy without ever straying into material unsuitable for the time of transmission.
Emap said that it also used only the ‘clean’ version of the song. It considered that this was somewhat tamer than many other hip hop records broadcast across music television channels.
Chart Show Channels Limited replied that the video contained no nudity, intercourse or sex scenes. It considered the video suitable to show on a music channel. However, since the video did cause a viewer some concern, as a precautionary measure, it was removed from the daytime play-list and re-scheduled only to be shown after 22:00.

Decision

We accept that there was nothing in the lyrics of the ‘clean’ version of the song that made it unsuitable for daytime play. We also accept that many modern music videos, particularly for certain music genres, portray women in a way that many viewers may not approve of. Our aim when regulating programmes is to maintain a reasonable balance between viewer protection and the right to freedom of expression. In this instance, we believe that the combination of the song’s lyrics and the visuals resulted in a video that was overtly sexual in nature and was therefore unsuitable for showing at a time when young children were likely to be watching.
We welcome Chart Show TV’s decision to re-schedule the video for transmission only after 22:00 and consider that this action resolved the complaint.

Kiss TV and Hit40UK - the video was in breach of Section 1.2 (Family Viewing) Chart Show TV - resolved

(The Complaints PDF is here )

[Helen F H]

Aplogies to any chavs who may read this.

(all of the following to be read with a David Attenborough accent)
A chav wakes up to his alarm clock, a radio alarm tuned to the local dance station playing out “music” which to the casual listener sounds remarkably like a car alarm with a beat to it. He lies there and stares at the posters stuck to the ceiling above his bed, a girl dressed in not very much perched on a motorbike sucking a finger (always sucking a finger……).
He hauls himself upright and throws off the synthetic duvet with the fake blue burberry covers off and they will lie where they fall until he returns that evening.
He staggers to the bathroom, the effects of last nights white lightening meaning his first stop is the toilet to throw up the undigested kebab which has been fermenting in his stomach for the past few hours.
His mum yells up the stairs asking if he wants tea, and he replies with the customary grunt, which we can presume to mean yes. He examines his spot encrusted face in the mirror, and despite others opinions to the contrary, thinks he is pretty hot. Back to his room where he pulls on the tracksuit he has worn for the past 2 days stinking of cigarettes, unwashed bloke and chip fat.
After a breakfast of a cigarette and a cup of tea he goes out on the town to meet with “da boyz”, all dressed in the same synthetic uniform as him. Surely a fire hazard to have that much polyester in one place at once? His jumped up Nova resonates to the beat of the R&B, the baked bean tin exhaust marking it out to other drivers almost like a siren heralding an approaching prat. The stuck on film which he has used to black out the windows is peeling off at the corners allowing us to observe the inner sanctum of the chavmobile. Inside a magic tree air freshener swings from the rear view mirror. Fake suede seat covers - badly fitting and stained from when “Tiffany” aka “Tifneee” or “da bitch” if she isn’t within earshot, spilled her Mcdonalds milkshake when they did a handbrake turn on the industrial estate a few weeks ago, cover the standard Nova décor. The radio (nicked by our Jason) is worth more than the car, and is hooked up to dinnerplate sized speakers crudely sunk into the parcel shelf. Empty fag packets and cans of Woodpecker litter the floor.
They meet others of the same species and talk about subwoofers, body kits and what they will do to the tribe of similar individuals from the next town.
He has to go to the job centre later on, and spends his time trying to see down the female workers top, when she gets up to photocopy his job rejection letters he letches at her legs. He sits in the seat slouched back, legs as far apart as the straining red polyester will let him and tries to look as uninterested as possible.
They make a trip into town, where the squashed raised flowerbeds are punctuated with crisp packets and empty coke cans. Argos has a sale on, and “da bitch” wants a new bigger clown for her impending 16th birthday. They spend their time idly shoplifting from the few remaining stores from which they are yet to be banned and trying to blind bus drivers with cheap laser pointers. They go to the army surplus store to get some more of the small yellow ball pellets for his BB gun, a present from his mum. They ogle the knives under the glass display cabinet, but decide that they are “not big enough” for their alleged requirements.
Later that evening they go to the local park, draw willies and their names on the playground equipment with marker pens stolen from WH Smith, drink white lightening, smoke dope and if he is lucky they wont get caught. He staggers home at 11.30, grunts at his mother and returns to his bed, ready to fight another day.

[gunsentry]

Originally Posted by Mr T.

No meaning to be unduly harsh, contentious or tendentious, but should parents who either condone, fund the purchase of, or allow their progeny to wear Burberry (or Chav kit in general) face summary public flogging?

Over to you YD.

Define Chav kit and explain the relevance of Burberry....

[Bantam]

Originally Posted by gunsentry

Define Chav kit and explain the relevance of Burberry....

The neds in the south tend to;

1: Drive Vauxhall Nova's
2: Read Max Power
3: Wear Burberry Caps (or as much fake burberry, ralph lauren and hilfiger they can get their hands on)
4: Wear Sovreign Rings
5: Shop at Elizabeth Duke
6: Hang around shouting abuse, drinking cider and smoking cheap tabs.
7: Vicki Pollard?

[Bantam]

I agree about the earrings thing - kids should only be allowed to get any kind of piercing over the age of 16. I've seen little girls about the age of 4 in town (same age as my little one) with pierced ears.

[gunsentry]

Originally Posted by Bantam

The neds...

Chav = Ned

Now I understand.

LOL

Cheers,

Gary.