A Dedicated Follower of Fashion
I have resolved to get the full benefit of the WordPress blogging experience. This means that every now and then, I will step out of my comfort zone and try a new type of post. So far, I have done a deep and meaningful poetry post (People wept. Marriages were saved. Complicated teenagers selected the choicest lines to write in their journals.), and a rather technical photography post (this one was more for the experts than the common people, but I have noticed a subtle improvement in the quality of the pictures on WordPress since then. Coincidence? You decide).
Now it’s time to try something new. A fashion post. I have noticed that there is an entire subculture out there in WordPress-land who love to tell the world what sort of pants they are wearing. I feel left out. None of you have ever known what sort of pants I’ve been wearing. Mercifully, that is about to change.
Those who know me may be a little curious that I should embark on such an enterprise, but the truth is that I am eminently qualified. I, you see, came of age in the 80’s. Most of the people I see blogging about fashion are far too young to remember the 80’s. This is a good thing. Sure, they can pick up some old magazines and have a bit of a smile, even throw in the odd 80’s reference to their own style.
But they weren’t there. They don’t know what it was like. All those people who look so funny in those old magazines were models. The best looking people of the age. You can’t even begin to imagine what us ordinary people looked like. But you’re going to have to. We’ve hidden all the photographs. It was war. It was hell. It was the apocalypse, but we were all too blinded by our own clothes to see it.
Like any war, the 80’s fashion war had its casualties. Before I start on my own fashion journey, I’d like to acknowledge our fallen. The world looks the way it does today due, in no small part, to their sacrifices. There was Matthew Sims, inventor of what later came to be known as Hammer pants. He made the ultimate sacrifice when the voluminous crotch of his trousers became entangled in the chain of his BMX just as a truck came over a blind rise.
There was Betty-Sue Hollander, who succumbed to third degree burns when she tried to blow out the candles of her 18th birthday cake immediately after using seven cans of hairspray.
There was the fondly remembered Ellen Bathurst, inventor of the fitness tape, who died in a freak accident when a jealous zebra kicked her into a swimming pool, where she succumbed to the weight of her patented Velcro wrist weights.
There was Mike Sims, who tragically took his own life after blinding seventeen underprivileged schoolchildren on their first trip to the beach with his mirror sunglasses.
There were others, too. The list is too long and too important for a mere blog. Thank you guys. You will never be forgotten.
It was not just the fallen who suffered. An entire generation has had their lives blighted by the collective madness of that decade. We hide it now, sneaking quick peeks at hidden albums while our children sleep. But we must bear our pain in silence. How could you ever explain something like this to those who were not there…
Want to see what he’s on about, and read the rest of this hilarious fashion post?
Then check 23thorns