Carl Donnelly strides into the 'cool comedian' debate

There has been a lot of talk about ‘cool’ comedians – but all this is distracting from the most important factor on modern comedy: jeans. Lets face it, there is a war coming and every comic is going to have to take a look in their wardrobe and decide which side they are on. 

I’ve already made my decision. It was made about five years ago as the age of the skinny jean was in its infancy. I recall entering a little-known high street shop by the name of Topman and in a dark corner, there they were. I had never seen a jean with such a skinny leg.

I assumed the only types of jean available were ‘regular’ (for normal people) and ‘boot cut’ (for date rapists). I gently picked up a pair and made my way cautiously to the fitting rooms where after an hour and a half I finally managed to get the jeans on.

Once on however I felt like I’d never felt before. My heart skipped a beat as I saw for the first time every crease and curve of my bottom half (with layers on that is. I had previously seen my legs naked). I knew at this moment that I would never again cover these beautiful creatures with a more relaxed trouser or jean.

‘Baggy Trouser Comics’ (as they are known among us skinny-jean-and-hair comedians) laughed as I entered dressing rooms up and down the country with the actual shape of legs clearly visible and for a period of maybe six months I fell into a deep depression. I finally felt like I could be who I wanted to be but these shirt-wearing (and sometimes even bald??) comedians were mocking and whispering about me when I was merely a matter of feet away. 

Things got even worse when I decided to change my normal framed glasses to a thick rimmed pair. I was regularly beaten up by comedians who were wearing low cost black shoes and trousers that looked like they had been purchased from such shops as Burton or Next. It was sickening to be kicked and kneed by such low quality items.

Having gone through this ordeal and come out the other side I now feel stronger and ready to lead from the front. I now can walk onstage in my skinny jeans, wacky hair and geek chic glasses with pride (sometimes I’ll even accessorise with some wrist beads!) knowing that I am who I am and if you uncool comedians with your baggy T-shirts and short back and sides (that you probably paid less than £40 to get cut you weirdos!) can’t accept that then I don’t care.

Forget comedy. Forget how funny someone is. Forget how hard they work. Forget how much material they turn over. When the war comes, remember that the only thing that matters is the jeans. Look down at your legs and decide which side you’re on.

Published: 21 Nov 2012