While I was in college, I got some really great fashion advice while shopping at Victoria’s Secret for some bras from my little sister. After debating leopard print vs. polka dots, or some such thing, she sighed and said, “It doesn’t matter what you wear, because all they give a shit about is getting it on the floor in two seconds.”
I’ll be going through some website or catalog and ask Roommate Jim a man’s opinion. You know what a man’s opinion is?
“What are those sleeves, fucking bat wings? Why would you do that to yourself?”
“That’s a stripper dress. Strippers wear those to work. Seriously.”
“Why are you looking at Delia’s? God, great, all these sloppy hipsters are going be rolling around in those this spring.”
Look, I can barely pull it together most days, i.e. grab my jeans off the floor and a clean T-shirt to get out the door. But there are things I know about what not to wear, and as I live in the Fashion Capital of the World, I see it all.
This is what I know:
• Gladiator sandals. I’m amazed these came out a couple years ago—and I’m amazed that assholes are still wearing them.
• Tights under Daisy Dukes. Hey, if those shorts are too short, tight, ripped, etc. to wear without a pair of winter blacks underneath? Then you probably shouldn’t be wearing them.
• Jellies. These had to be one of the worst fashion ideas that emerged from the 1980s. They were tight in all the wrong places, rubbed, gave you blisters and made your feet sweat with the fiery power of a thousand asscracks on an underground subway platform in July.
• While we’re on the ’80s, hey little fuckwads who were born post 1985 and are therefore too young and stupid to remember that horrendous decade—the ’80s sucked. Everything seemed to be cheaply made, it was neon, padded and gross—kinda like the chicks on the “Facts of Life.”
• Leggings. I pretty much feel about these like I feel about the girl I saw cruising down the street wearing tights as pants the other day rocking some hardcore camel toe—hardly anyone can pull this off. It looks like you’re on your way to a pajama party with rejects from an “America’s Top Model” casting session in Cleveland. “It’s like two hams in a parachute on top of a couple of sticks,” says Roommate Jim. Put on some fucking pants.
• Shirts as dresses. See “Leggings.”
• Jumpsuits. I made a jumpsuit once for my 5th grade 4-H project. It was horrendous and ugly and I got a red ribbon (which ain’t good). Every jumpsuit I’ve seen so far? Yep, looks like a 5th grade 4-H project. And just try wriggling out of one of these in a public restroom when you have to piss.
• Fedoras. These are great hats. I used to love them. But they’re everywhere now, adorning the head of every NYU sophomore I see. It’s the Bad Touch—it’s what happens to good fashion when it is tainted by hipsters. Other previous victims to fall prey to the Bad Touch include Western shirts and hoodies.
• And guys, don’t think you’re free and clear. Anyone cruising around Brooklyn—or anywhere else outside the woods—in a lumberjack shirt and a fur cap, you sir, are a dick. Just a dick. And I would like to see you try and chainsaw anything without crying.