It was 1981, the summer before my freshmen year at college. I was in London and decided to go out to the venerable Crystal Palace sports center which I'd heard so much about, to run a workout, 10,000 on the track. It was warm as heck but everyone had shirts on. Figuring maybe the Brits had rules for this sort of thing, I inquired of a local if I could take my shirt off to run the workout. He responded with: You aren't a woman are you? That was that. I pr'd.
God bless the [late] British Empire.