this imploding heart

doesnt matter what they say

I know you've been holding your breath for this one. It's the this imploding heart spring fashion commandments! And breathe.

Okay boys, lets start with you. Got twenty bucks? Lets go to Value Village.

The first thing you need is a belt. I'm tired of those pants kind of hanging off your non-existant ass. Belt, pronto. Put it on in the aisle there, you can pay for it when you get to the front. This is a matter that calls for drastic measures. Put on the belt. If you are now finding that the pants you were wearing that you thought were long enough for you are riding around mid calf, lets go look at pants.

I think you've finally learned to stay well enough away from those pleated pants, so the rules are open to interpretation, except for the following:

It is not 1985. If you rip the knees entirely out of your pants, you may not leave the excess fabric flapping in the wind. I'll fix that shit for you if you're really THAT attached to those pants. Otherwise, they are for car fixing and TV watching only, even if you're in a band. No, -especially- if you're in a band.

No Pleather. No exceptions. you can wrap your ass in burnt velvet if you like, but no pleather. You are not a seat at dairy queen.

Okay, did you pick out some new pants? lets see em. Okay. 3 pairs. Lets do the test. Take the first pair and grab on to the inseam of each leg. Pull gently apart. Now pull a bit harder, similar to the pull your pants will endure if you squat dow to pet a dog or test the soil on your new farm. Are they ripping? No? Good. Repeat with the other pants. If all three pairs survive and you were smart enough to look in your size, we don't even need to try those bad boys on.

Now that we've got the real basics out of the way and can pretty safely ensure that I wont be seeing you walking down the street in sweats in the next few weeks, lets actually talk about fashion.

This spring, I want to see you in more black undershirts that fit. It's okay if you're skinny as fuck or you've got kind of a belly, the black t is kicking the shit out of the white one this year, which is good news because you can't really tell if you just spilled salsa on it. less laundry, conserve water and soap. Top that black T with a long sleeved cowboy shirt maybe with some roses embroidered on the shoulders and those fancy snaps, paired with those black pants I told you to buy last year, maybe a wristband, and you're ready to go out and make sustained eye contact with ladies and do nothing more than that, because apparently, girls are scary. (Seriously guys, if you're looking to make a move, this is the season to do it. If you talk to the prettiest girl in the bar, you're a hundred percent more likely to be waking up her neighbors at three in the morning than all those guys who are just staring at her. This is my most important fashion tip.)

Ladies, I'll be looking at you tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Posted by Sonya at March 19, 2003 11:07 AM