A Guide to Changing Room Etiquette for the Mature Gentleman

If, like me, you were born in the 1950s you will probably have started to accept that your body is on the losing side in its ceaseless battle against the twin forces of time and gravity. The degenerative effects wrought by this one way tug-of-war are particularly apparent around the loins, which can all too easily start to resemble a gorilla’s thumb resting on something the cat coughed up. Thankfully this area is usually hidden from view, thus sparing the young and healthy a harrowing preview of their own impending decrepitude.

The only public location in which I regularly forgo this act of consideration is the changing room of my local bathing facility where, in recent years, I have developed a simple ten-step routine to ensure a dignified and speedy transition from streetwear to swimwear. I put it forward here as a useful guide to civic decorousness and simple good manners for all swimmers and spa attendees, whatever their age or physical condition.

1. Remove trunks from swimming bag and lay them out before disrobing. You do not want to discover that you have accidentally forgotten to pack them when you are already in the buff.
2. Take off any outerwear – e.g. coat, cardigan – and fold neatly, ready to go into the locker. Apart from your shoes, all remaining clothes should be added the pile as you proceed. (There’s a key passage in Tom Wolfe’s bestselling 1987 novel, The Bonfire of the Vanities, that sets out the appropriate attire for a prison visit: loafer shoes, belt-less trousers, no tie, no watch, no change in your pocket. Similar principles should apply here.)
3. Remove shoes and place in locker, taking care not to soak your socks in any puddles on the changing room floor. Slip-ons are best, but if you prefer the security of a laced shoe, remain standing and rest your foot on a bench to undo the laces. If you sit slumped forward over your knees to untie them, there is a significant risk that someone will assume you’ve had a stroke and call for medical assistance. The same applies for buckles and velcro strips.
4. If wearing a vest, take off your shirt now. As a general rule of thumb, you should work from the top down with each layer of clothing.
5. Remove trousers. It will be easier to reach your socks with them off, even if you are wearing shorts.
6. Remove socks. Again, if at all possible you should remain standing while doing this, for the same rationale as set out in step 3. The ‘top-down’ rule does not apply here: under no circumstances should your underpants be taken off before your socks.
7. Remove vest (or shirt if vest-less). Do not be tempted to remove the underpants first – unless you want to look like a hospital patient who has just wandered out of the prostate ward.
8. Underpants off. Do not inspect them for skid-marks. Do not look around to see if other people are glancing pityingly in your direction. Simply place the pants on the clothing pile and reach for your trunks.
9. Trunks on. I favour a style that’s longer in the leg, but whatever your preference it’s best to avoid the type of loose shorts that have an interior net to prevent dangling parts from slipping into view as you descend the pool steps. It’s all too easy to get a toe caught up in the netting and find yourself hopping around the changing room like a demented pogo stick.
10. Place your pile of folded clothes on top of your shoes in the locker, toss the bag in, and get yourself in the water. When you’ve finished your swim, simply reverse steps 2 to 8 above before heading off to the cafeteria for a nice cup of tea (green tea, if available, is particularly effective at neutralising ‘pool-mouth’).

This simple routine will quickly become second nature, but to help you get started I have included a handy visual guide that can be printed out or saved to your phone as a convenient aide-memoire.

Before moving on, I’d like to say a few words about personal grooming. No one wants to see an unkempt vegetable patch, so if your private area has the appearance of a half-eaten cocktail sausage dropped into a pile of sweepings on the barbershop floor, consider using a beard trimmer (with extreme care) to clear away some of the excess foliage. I guarantee that you will look and feel all the better for it.

Thumbnail Review: David Lloyd ‘DLicious’ Cafe, Cardiff

Pot of Eros organic English Breakfast Tea (1.5 cups) £1.85

The Cafe is situated in a large, well-lit space with a range of seating options, a designated quiet area and a utilitarian outdoor terrace. The menu stretches from simple bacon baps to light mixed grills, with plenty of quinoa, chia seeds and smashed avocado in between. A tuna, red onion and mayo sandwich with a wholly redundant pile of salad leaves on the side will set you back around £4.50. If you are ordering food, I would recommend not choosing a table next to the large windows overlooking the pool – you may find yourself getting a de-appetising eyeful of the undead shuffling in for one of the the senior ‘Waterobics’ sessions.

The ‘Eros’ branded tea is provided by Bewley’s, an Irish blender with a rather heavy reliance on teas from undistinguished East African plantations. Such is the case here, and the brew is somewhat underpowered, with none of the rich flavours and subtle notes associated with more traditional Indian varieties. It offers only moderate satisfaction and certainly doesn’t merit the ‘English Breakfast’ label printed on the box.

• Location: 6/10

• Brew: 3/10