You can no more hide serious muscles than you can hide beauty that is more than skin-deep. The reason is simple: Muscles that are home grown on the range have a way of showing up in the Roman set of the jaw and veins and sinews of the neck and face like the resolute tip of an iceberg that hints at massivity beneath the waterline.
Some wise soul needs to tell this to the gym rats and pubescent muscle-heads who preen in “thongy” tank tops at 24 Hour Fitness, while all but kissing mirrors and playing with their be-hinds in that chintzy emporium of Do It Yourself fitness. Did I say Chintzy emporium of do it yourself fitness. I guess I did
I, for one, am sick and tired of the roid-fueled exhibitionism by poseurs who are destined to be as fat as they are buff when their roid-fueled enthusiasm flags and their bodies begin to shrink along with their nutsacks ….. because that is what meat-juice does when the pump dissipates.
With mimimal variations, gym clothes need to be worn like office attire. Less is more; with the “less” applying as much to skin, as the need to pose in front of mirrors.
I like my tees fat and baggy, especially in the arms for reasons already mentioned. The same applies to my pants for reasons that obviously cannot be discussed in polite company
Goodnight & happy pumpin’.