Lawlessly Yours: Secrets of what lies beneath ...

Bill Lawless
Bill Lawless

Acouple of days ago I had a visit from two competent-looking gentlemen who turned out be officers from Special Branch.

They were nice lads and naturally I did what I could to help. Had they been minions from the Child Support Agency involving historic arrears I would have been less co-operative.

Anyway, it did go back more than a decade when I designed a unisex burqa for naughty men to disguise themselves. They were all worried that the alleged terrorist who gave them the slip was wearing one of my creations and how often they had been so used.

The fear was, apparently, that as many as eight out of ten burqa babes were not ladies but gents in disguise. The implications of this on Home Office statistics are obvious.

The female version was quite conventional. Available accessories included fishnet tights with saucy silk garters and nylon suspender belts. There are also skimpy panties for the younger figures going up to voluminous cami-knickers with various fully adjustable gussets for the more mature ladies. I located these garments without difficulty on various washing lines.

One of the officers was showing a rather unhealthy interest in the ladies’ specification. I saw his mate boot him savagely under the table. Obviously it was the combat version that was of official concern. Well, this has a Kevlar bulletproof bodice and a small shelf in the bosom area.

This shelf has room for a Uzi sub machine gun. There are various ammunition pouches built-in and space for hand grenades or sticks of dynamite in the luxurious martyrs model. So much faith did I have in the product that I opened a premises called ‘Bill’s Burka Boutique’ based in Yorkshire Street but I’m afraid it collapsed and I had to put the business into liquidation.

I also collapsed having put myself into liquidation –whisky and beer mainly. The Special Branch were particularly interested in what I did with the surplus stock and I said there wasn’t any. I did use the prototype once to get into a public house from which I was banned but I got so many funny glances I came back home after only eight or nine pints.

I do not recommend this as a social garment. One can get into all sorts of trouble, particularly when using the toilets. Ladies or Gents?--that is the question. Whether to hoist it up front in the gents or hoist the lot up in the ladies and risk ‘pervert!’ shrieks when one’s size 13 clodhoppers are seen under the door. I don’t think I gave the project sufficient thought. The nice Special Branch men left after recommending a good psychiatrist.