My parents, being frugal sorts, decided that it would save money if they bought clothes that I could "grow into". So, in my first year at secondary school, with the 4' 11" and six stone frame common to most 11 year olds, I was the proud owner of a Rugby Shirt with a 44 inch chest. The arms, when rolled up to allow my hands to function, gave me the appearance of a man with elephantitis of the wrists.
On the plus side, if the accompanying shorts were lowered to the where the shirt ended, I was able to make myself appear to be a long bodied spazmohedron. (Or Stanley Matthews, if the teacher asked what the fuck I was doing.)