When we are forced to grapple with the hydra of a government department, we are assured that it won’t be so bad because we can go to a one-stop shop. This is a good thing, presumably. No more traipsing from one bureaucracy to another, telling our pathetic little tale over and over again to a succession of nameless public servants.
But what won’t we get at the one-stop shop? Why, one-size-fits-all. One-size-fits-all is a bad thing, presumably. It flaps around you, engulfing you in one-sizeness and, truth be told, fits nobody. Oh, no- we’re all special and different, and no one-size-fits-all for us!!
Personally, I am quite fond of the one-size-fits-all. Being a woman-of-a-certain-age, and a woman-of-a-certain-size, it’s quite a relief to think that I, too, can wear the same one-size-fits-all outfit as a young gel should I wish so to do. No more struggling into fitting rooms bearing an armful of the same garment in an optimistic size 14, a grudging size 16 and a depressing size 18. Why no! One-size-fits-all! If it doesn’t fit, sweetie, bad luck!
The Resident Judge of Port Phillip 