Traditionally, the GAA and the fashion world have been alien to each other. Excruciatingly tight shorts on the field, Sunday suits and wraparound hairstyles on the sideline. It may have held a certain gruesome fascination value, but it was never cool.

The '90s, however, have been revolutionary in this regard. Image came to mean something. Hence, players sported baggier gear, a trend taken to radical extremes by Jamesie O'Connor earlier this summer. Managers discarded the three-piece in favour of casual shorts. By the mid'90s, floppy hats and sandals were de riguer on the sideline, just when, coincidentally, heroin chic was all the rage. GAA men made the covers of hip (well, sort of) mags.

The most recent development came courtesy of Trevor Giles, who togged out for the Leinster final in a jersey with cut-off sleeves. That evening, hundreds of Meath kids handed parents their Kepak jerseys and told them to go nuts with the scissors.

"Ah, it was just a bit warm on the day," explained the player himself last week. "Those O'Neill's jerseys are a bit heavy and that way it was cooler to play in them, ye know."

Giles is talking after a Meath training session and is, as ever, polite, soft spoken and unassuming. His explanation about his unlikely dalliance with designer gear makes perfect sense. He was just taking care of business.

Trevor Giles has changed very little since he exploded into every living-room in the country three summers ago. Back then, he was fresh-faced and poised and breathtakingly assured as he masterminded Meath's sweep to an All-Ireland. He looked the complete package and you could see Sean Boylan crafting a new era around him.

Since then, though, times have been uncertain, with Offaly eclipsing Meath the following year and then Giles pulling a cruciate ligament in the 1998 Leinster final against Kildare. Many argue that Meath would have won had Giles been fit for the final quarter.

"I knew myself straight away that there was a problem and I tried to stay on, but I was in trouble the whole time and I had to go off," he shrugs.

It would be the last the public would see of him for almost a year.

"I suppose the measure of the man is what he did to come back in that time," offers Boylan. "You'll never hear it from himself, he is a very modest, unassuming man, but he put in an incredible effort. It didn't surprise me. Trevor experienced greatness at an early age and handled it well. When the troubles came, he responded similarly. Here is a lad who loves the game, loves the skills, and I hope he gets to enjoy them for many years to come."

He is one of the purest footballers in the game today, a playmaker with an ability to define matches with a single pass. But he also grafts, hustles and harries. And kicks frees. Since he returned from injury that has been one of the aspects of his game which has suffered.

"Well, yeah, that's possibly true, but I don't think my ratio as a freetaker was ever particularly high. I don't see myself as a natural freetaker, more a player who has been lumbered with the task. Other teams have lads there solely to kick frees. I dunno, I think that free-taking is something that if you practise and get a technique going, it will work for you most of the time. Hopefully that's how it will be on Sunday, but sure we mightn't even get a free."

Sunday against Armagh will be a litmus test for Giles; he reckons he has only felt fully comfortable with himself again over the past fortnight. Not that he expects any easy ride, matching up against Kieran McGeeney.

"It's going to be hard. In the Dublin match we got more room than would be normal for a local derby. I can't see that happening the next day. Sometimes, though, people build up these personal duels and they end up being irrelevant. That might be the case between myself and Kieran on Sunday. I think the Armagh boys will crowd that area and there won't be much time on the ball around there. There won't be much in this."