I have a confession to make and I believe it would resonate with most, if not all readers out there. And that has to do with dressing.  When I was a little boy, I dressed for my parents. Whatever my parents though would look nice on me, I wore. Whether it was a T-shirt with a cartoon character or a striped shirt, I never once complained nor protested.  When I started schooling, I dressed like my classmates and peers. When the centre parting hairstyle was in back then, I had that look. When it was hip to wear Bata shoes …