Fashion Foe, pause

I’m not what you’d call a fashion plate.  I don’t have a stylistic vision or drive, I just wear whatever is clean and least offensive in my closet, bonus points if it’s black or makes me look thin.  Someday when I have the kind of money that makes Bill Gates weep I’m sure I’ll pay someone to make me look good.

So what’s weird is that I have a lot of opinions on what people wear, even though I, myself, don’t try very hard to be stylish.  Which brings us to yesterday when I was in Macy’s shopping for a bra. The intimate apparel section just happened to be adjacent to the Juniors’ department, and while I’m definitely not shopping in anything with the name Juniors attached to it, I couldn’t help myself from taking a look around.

As I crossed the threshold of the forbidden land, the clouds parted and the sky began pouring shit upon my head. I was bombarded with truly awful looking duds.  It was all  neon-this and rayon/polyester-blend that, nary a natural fabric in sight, my eyeballs started dancing around like Tila Tequilla on speed, crying out for a focal point.

Then I found it, like a beacon in the fog, calling to me.  Ladies and ladies, see for yourself:

Strike 1: Poor material.  Some might argue that a garment is only as good as the fabric from which is it cut; and those people have made a lot of money in the fashion industry by selling quality clothes.  Yet others have decided to buck this sage advice and opt for the cheapest,  most visually abrasive material they can find…then give it a whirl in a pool of acid.  Because, really, what’s classier than the look of thin denim-that-isn’t-really-denim?  Lucite heels, that’s what.

Strike 2, Awful cut:  Rompers, rompers, everywhere!  I see rompers with straps, I see rompers without; both make me want to blow my brains out.  Rompers are the hidden-in-the-basement cousin of the classic dress: they may be related, but no one’s admitting it. Business from the waist up, party down below, this mullet of the fashion world  Elastic band in the middle?  Why not, you can’t possibly fuck it up any more.  Throw some tassels on it, too.

Strike 3, Mass production: The biggest problem here is its abundance.  Do you see all those offenders lined up on that clothing rack? Fine with me if some waify Austin/Brooklyn/San Francisco hipster wants to wear a romper, but sweet baby bobble-headed Jesus, PLEASE don’t let this trend be “the new leggings.”  I can’t stand to look at this fashion castaway for the next 36 months.

I don’t want to be all crotchety about “kids” and the “crap” they wear, because we’ve all been there and done that.  Hell, I owned more than one pair of men’s JNCO jeans.

But shit straight-up has three strikes against it, which means it’s out.  I can’t support this and I won’t pretend it’s not happening.  Lock your kids up, throw away the keys, and if you love them never ever let them near an acid-washed romper.***


***Unless they are under the age of six.  Then *squee!* go for it.

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