Let us begin with the size run, because the size run is the exhibit. These shorts are offered from XX-Small through XX-Large, and then again, in parallel, in Tall grades from Small through XX-Large. Small Tall. Medium Tall. Large Tall. X-Large Tall. XX-Large Tall.
A manufacturer who cuts a second full grade has decided that a longer torso is not a rounding error to be absorbed by the customer. That decision is rarer than it should be, and I will not let it pass unremarked.
I have catalogued a great many garments.
The construction, now, precisely and only as far as the photographs and the listing will carry me. This is a two-in-one: a woven outer short with an inner short built beneath it, and you can see the inner hem sitting below the outer in the product photography, which is the only proof of a liner I will accept.
The waistband is elasticated with a contrast white tipping along the top edge. There are side seam pockets, real ones, deep enough to hold a ball — that is what the ball pocket tag means, and it is the single feature that separates a tennis short from a running short.
The hem is cut with a deep curve and a split at the outer thigh so the leg is not fenced in at the top of a lunge. One colourway is offered: Ink, a navy so dark that indoors it reads black and outdoors it does not. I do not have the fibre content for this run from a source I would put my name to, so I am not going to give you one.
The three-bar badge sits on the left leg.
A specification I cannot cite is not a specification. It is a rumour with a decimal point.
Lagos, then, and Lagos is a city that rewards an accurate visitor. Freedom Park on Lagos Island was the yard of a colonial prison, and it is now an open-air stage — I have the fact and I have the conversion and I do not have adequate words for it.
The Cathedral Church of Christ on the Marina finished its brick nave in 1946, a date I am able to give you cleanly, which after the prison is a relief. Balogun Market runs off Broad Street with its textile stalls packed shoulder to shoulder, and it is the correct place to learn what a pocket you can trust is worth.
And out at the Lekki Conservation Centre the canopy walkway is strung twenty-two metres above the swamp forest — twenty-two, as commonly given, and I would like a surveyor's figure in writing, and I would like it soon, and I am aware of how that sounds.
“A prison yard that became a stage. I have the date of the conversion. I do not have the words for it.”
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