I'll say nothing, other than I retired as a flasher last year. I spent hours staking out the local park, looking for a suitable position and, after hours of waiting, I jumped out and flashed at a pretty young girl, saying "What do you thin of that then"?
There is an apocryphal story that Churchill heard that 10-inch long condom-like protective rubber sheaths were being produced to go over the rifles of British soldiers fighting in the Arctic. Since he knew that they'd have to travel partly through German-occupied territory to reach their destination, he insisted that every box bear the label "British Standard Issue (regular)".
It's got nothing to do with length. It's about hanging up wet duffel-coats with full beer bottles in the pockets. I read it somewhere, a woman's magazine I think.