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A stalwart journalist for News Ltd for 20 years and a former TV Week Features Editor, Geoff Shearer is one of the country’s most admired arts and entertainment writers. He’s taken a step into semi-retirement to concentrate on his fiction writing, while relishing the chance to share his unique tale on life with My Halcyon Days’ readers.

AHHHH summer, what sweet recall is served upon thy golden rays.

It really does seem a season for reflecting, particularly after the year we’ve all had! But there is one reflection I am desperately keen to see much less of poolside – the eyesore that are colloquially known as DTs.

Please I beg of you, of all men, to return to wearing those charming chap-friendly swimming apparel known as trunks.

Even since Tony Abbott primed his ministerial portfolio in bright red “scungies”, I’ve never been comfortable passing the budgerigar cages in Pet Barn. And the alternative “boardies” have plenty of room for a cockatoo or twelve, but I’ve never mastered entry to a pool without them inflating like some sort of emergency slide from an airplane. The resulting bubbles are colossal. And loud. People stare and point like you’re Sir Lancelot stuck on the side of the road changing a tyre – Flat-you-Lance? Flatulence? Oh never mind.

My point is we need some decorum around our swimwear. And trunks are the answer. Remember when they were trendy? Well, not really since the 1910s, I suppose. But anyway, it’s time to look to the past to preserve our modesty.

Summer’s always about reminiscing. And not just about what we wore to the pool. It is about where we spent summer holidays as a kid; the Christmases and cricket matches and castles in the sand.

Even the songs were all about looking back at fun in the sun, and summer loves. Don Henley reckoned he was a better catch than those boys of summer; Richard Marx’s summer nights were endless; Bananarama thought it cruel that summer was gone; while The Motels suddenly remembered they’d forgotten last summer; Alice Cooper was just glad to be out of school; Bryan Adam’s favourite summer was the summer of ’69; and good ol’ Olivia Newton John thought summer days were for drifting away, but, oh oh, how damn fine were those summer niiiiiiiiiiiiiights.

If only her Danny, of course, ditched the DTs and packed a pair of trunks for the beach.