Archive - September 2008


 

The One About Fashion

 

      Anyone who has seen me with clothes on is asking themselves “Why is HE writing about fashion?”  Whereas anyone who has seen me WITHOUT clothes on is asking themselves “How did he get his leg up there?” or “Is it so frickin’ hard to lock a damn door around here?!”  Which reminds me that I still need to apologize to my Mom.  But really, she shouldn’t just be going around opening up the coat closet like that, without even knocking.

      And I do indeed recognize that it seems odd that I, of all people, would be claiming any knowledge of fashion.  My own wardrobe is, well, disastrous.  I own one suit, which was used primarily for weddings and that I fear is now going to make the switch to funeral duty.  Beyond that, it consists mainly of t-shirts and unattractive button-down shirts worn, weather depending, with jeans or shorts.  How unattractive you ask?  Well, ugly enough that on several occasions my wife has threatened to call What Not To Wear on my ass.  At which point I remind her it that such an experiment would fail miserably because I know that my shirts are ugly.  I search them out.  I like ugly shirts.  It didn’t happen by accident.  I regularly scour thrift stores in search of ugly shirts.  (Another bone of contention.  My wife insists that I can afford to purchase clothing that has not been pre-owned.  I retaliate with the position that if I’m going to buy ugly shirts (and I am) I might as well buy them on the cheap.  At this point, she rolls her eyes and refills her bourbon and seven.)

      With that being said, I have two points to make about fashion today.  Well, one is question, the other is a point.  Or at least, point-like.

      I’d like to know why we only seem to have thirty years worth of ideas for clothes.  The cycle goes like this.  Sixties, seventies, eighties.  Repeat.  At what point did fashion designers take their cue from Hollywood and just quit trying to come up with new stuff.  Hey, wow, an $80 tie-dye t-shirt, cool.  Skip ahead two years.  Hey, bell-bottoms!  All right!  Skip ahead two years.  Mom!  Can I feather my hair?  Skip ahead two years.  Hey, wow, an $80 tie-dye t-shirt, cool.  Has this ever happened before?  Did 1860’s folk get to a point where they’d just reach back in time and wear clothes from the 1840’s?  At least, if people are going to do this, could you please satisfy the penny-pincher in me and save the clothes?  I mean, you know they’re gonna be back in style in two years.  Just throw them in a trunk and date it, that way you’ll know when to open it up again.  Plus, if you wanted to be really edgy, you could open it a few months early, and then you’ll think that you’re starting the trend.

      And now onto my pet peeve of month.  Skinny jeans.  That’s right.  Skinny jeans.  There’s plenty of blame to go around here.  First, to the consumer.  Quit buying them.  They are not flattering.  You do not look good in them.  I mean, for God’s sake, take off your adolescent-colored glasses and look in the damn mirror.  It’s not okay.  Second, to the manufacturer.  You brought this on.  You started it, you pushed it on kids that you know damn good and well aren’t smart enough to make these decisions, and you propagated it.  Damn you, sir.  Damn you to hell.  But at least, at the very least, could please not make skinny jeans for people who aren’t?  They look horrible enough on the Olsens of the world, the last thing I need to see is Rosie O’Donnell’s fat cousin squeezed into a pair.  They’re called skinny jeans.  If you have to make them (and you most certainly do not), at least only make ‘em for skinny people.  And thirdly, to the guys.  What the hell are you doing?  WHOMP!  That "WHOMP!" was me smacking your collective noses with a rolled-up magazine, probably O!  Stop it.  Just stop it.  I’m not sure what look you’re going for here with the skinny jeans, but it isn’t working.  They make you look like a pansy.  Teenage boys have pretty much only one fashion rule – don’t wear clothes that make you look like a pansy.  And when I was in high school, we all knew that rule.  Everyone, including the chess club to the class homosexual knew it.  So please stop.  I just don’t know how much longer I can go without mocking you openly the next time I see you.


HOROSCOPES

 

ARIES (March 21 - April 19):

     You will get a cramp.  Not a bad one, but nonetheless, I thought you should know.


TAURUS (April 20 - May 20):

     Sadly, she IS the best that you can do.


GEMINI (May 21 - June 21):

     He has herpes.


CANCER (June 22- July 22):

     You will find naked pictures of your mother.  From last week. 


LEO (July 23 - August 22):

     You will hear a good song on the radio.  I know, we're all surprised.


VIRGO (August 23 - September 22):

     Do not look down.


LIBRA (September 23 - October 22):

     No, it's not supposed to bend like that.


SCORPIO (October 23 - November 21):

     Do not look up.


SAGITTARIUS ( November 22- December 21):

     Yes, that DOES make you gay.


CAPRICORN (December 22 - January 19):

     Do not ask her how she got so good at that.


AQUARIUS (January 20 - February 18):

     I told you not to touch the stapler.


PISCES (February 19 - March 20):

     It's a great day for a white wedding, yeah.


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