The sixteen to nineteen year olds who hang around outside the local college sneering at everyone who walks past have recently had a change of heart with regards to your work attire, according to word on the street. Some say this may signal dangerous times to come for you and for your clothes.
Having treated you and everyone like you with disdain since time immemorial, the youths, while maintaining the sneering facade to your face, now peer down the street after you in envy, realising that you must have a job, that you probably had a job to go to when you left education, and that no matter how hard they try to catch up, you will now always have more skills and experience than they do, thus trumping them in what remains of the job market.
The change of heart has come about in the wake of everyone in the world, including their mothers, Richard, off Richard and Judy, and Robert Peston telling them that there are no jobs to be had, particularly for young people, and there won't be any jobs for a very long time, in fact for the foreseeable future, and certainly not while the Tories are in, which will probably be forever.
While none of the habitually sneering youths have any real desire to work from nine to five every day, they are dimly aware that it is considered a necessity in their society in order to acquire reasonable amounts of money. They consider that they need money to assist them in engaging in a variety of ritual mating pursuits, such as drinking to excess and displaying their bodies in overpriced clothes. The males in particular wish to acquire money in order to drive around in fast cars, a practice which they believe will give them reproductive advantages.
Word on the street says that the youths are content with envy for the moment, but some commentators have pointed out that in the battle to successfully reproduce, there are few limits, and the rules of civilised society can fly out of the window. Some have even gone so far as to say that we may soon have the first intergenerational war on our streets, with your work attire, and ultimately your rather dull job, as the prize.