When I was a teenager, I wore some crazy things. I graduated from High School in 1977 just as the classic Hippie mindset was permanently exiting our consciousness. The war in Vietnam ended two years earlier and fashion-wise, longish hair on men, wide ties and huge, pointy collars. Shimmering powder blue Maybelline eyeshadow and wide-leg bell bottoms were still in vogue.
So were mini skirts, hip huggers, hot pants and halter tops that exposed the tummy. We wore chukka boots and Earth Shoes, floppy hats and sunglasses that were made of colored lenses. Hipsters with decent vision plans went high tech for the time. They wore photo grade specs with lenses that were clear inside, but automatically darkened in sunlight, eliminating the need for colored lenses of any kind.
Women had long boring straight hair, almost always parted in the center.
Men wore cologne that they bought at their local pharmacies: British Sterling, Hai Karate , Paco Rabanne and Brute. Women doused themselves in Patchouli perfume. It helped mask the odor of pot.
Disco entered the scene when I was in college and so many fell victim to it. Musically, it was one the bleakest times in this nation’s history.
Fashion-wise, it wasn’t much better. It was indeed a “what were we thinking” era. Men wore nasty, ugly platform shoes like this:
And those men who had the Disco balls to pull it off, the Leisure Suit was re-introduced to the fashion scene, God help us all.
Behold THIS polyester turd:
These vile, fashion backwards fibers o’tacky came into vogue just as my father was entering male menopause. He loved these monstrosities and had several of them in his closet. He adorned them with other nauseating fashion acoutrement of the time: white slip on shoes (ugh!!) and a gold Scorpio medallion.
Odd too. He was an Aries.
I hated disco. Can you tell? I hated everything about it. I hated that damned mirror ball. I hated the way discos smelled, the music, the lights and the attitude. It was a cheap and tawdry time. I even hated those who loved it.
And really, can you blame me???
But to be honest, the entire ten-year span that was the 70’s, was pretty much a fashion flop. It was the bleak and tacky, but I suppose every generation has its fashion don’ts. Today’s youth is no exception. Especially the so-called “gang bangers”; the real ones and the wannabe’s. My question to all you Future Inmates is, “What’s with the baggy pants worn down to your knees?”
You can see the crotch is clearly located almost at mid shin. I ask you, what statement does this make? And what exactly is that oversized T-shirt hiding?
I posed those questions to the Brain Trust at my company, Laurie Industries. This intrigued the members. They decided to tackle this issue. Since they love solving mysteries involving textiles, they immediately went to work. I watched drafting tables shift into position, pocket protectors glistened under the glare of flourescent lights; slide rules started smoking. Midnight oil was burned in copious amounts.
Eight hours later, an envelope arrived on my desk. It contained a White Paper outlining my answer. This team, these brilliant men and women who I assembled, figured it out.
Basically, they determined that gang bangers are notoriously short and terribly embarrassed by being so vertically challenged. So, they’ve resorted to a not so unique “stacking buddy system” to combat this and seem more imposing to rival members.
But be that as it may, what’s with the sleeves? I always thought every gang banger was “armed”.