These pants weren't designed in a fashion laboratory for runway modelsﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ___ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ____unless of-course said model is a 6'3", 230 lb. Italian Stallion who eats opposing out-halfs for breakfast.
These pants were designed for real men. Men who go to battle for 80 minutes on the pitch, and leave nothing behind. Men who celebrate their victories and nurse their wounds over choruses of "Chicago" and a pint or two (or three, or five, or wellﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ___ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ____who's counting anyways) of Newcastle Brown. Men whose forwarding address is Tommy Doyle's. Men who, when asked, "What do you weigh?", reply with a shrug and a scoff "15 stone." That's rightﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ___ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ____stoneﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ___ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ__ﾫﾏ_ﾫﾏ____lbs and kilos are for lesser men.
These pants were forged for the gentleman scholars of the Harvard Business School Rugby Football club. Ruck on.
Please wait...