Why don’t tall people get the same sympathy as short people? Everyone feels sorry for minnows, cutting them slack when they talk loudly in meetings or get themselves elected Speaker of the House of Commons. But tall people are seen as life’s victors; the ones you want to be, the ones who get everything their own way. It just isn’t the case.
I’m not actually that tall — 6ft 1in — but even I encounter problems. Cashpoints are too low, hotel beds are too short, train seats don’t have enough leg room. In the days of phone boxes, I spent every call hunched over (not enough lead). I regularly have to bend at the knees to use mirrors, and am sometimes forced to take showers kneeling down, because the head hasn’t been fixed high enough up the wall. What’s that you say? Have a bath instead? I would — if that wasn’t too short as well. It’s a choice between sitting bolt upright or resting my feet against the tiles somewhere near the ceiling.
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And if I’m struggling, what’s it like for the 6ft 4-and-above brigade? The other day I used a walkway in the Barbican where I only had three inches clearance — anyone that much taller than me would have had to stoop. I know, the whole Barbican is a design-free zone, but it’s far from the only place. Much of modern Britain is structurally tallist.
It was only when talking to a friend who’s 6ft 6 that I realised just how troublesome clothing can be. All I’ve ever had to do is buy shirts with extra-long sleeves, but Rob has an extra problem with casual shirts. ‘They all expose my navel when I stretch.
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