Low Rider

It freaks me out a little, but every now and then a particular fashion trend makes me feel like a crabby old lady when I catch myself muttering under my breath ("goddamn kids look rigoddamndiculous...grumble, grumble"). I think it takes a lot, because I believe that I do a pretty good job at keeping an open mind. As I said in my last post, I try to maintain the philosophy that even a style/article of clothing that I absolutely HATE looks good on SOMEBODY, somewhere. Last week this philosophy was demonstrated live, before my very eyes, right in my neighborhood subway station. Walking up the stairs in front of me (downtown Lexington line at Brooklyn Bridge station) was a young male ass clad in boxer briefs, the legs below it swimming inside a pair of very baggy jeans, with the belt somewhere around mid thigh. And you thought this trend peaked with the smash hit 'Pants on the Ground'! As absolutely ASS-inine as this trend is (sorry, couldn't resist), you have to admit that when a trend inspires legislation it really has hit a new level of pop culture sensation. But really, I thought this had END-ed (OK, you can virtually slap me now). At this point I was not so much grumbling to myself as cackling under my breath at the comedy show inside my mind (moving from 'crabby old lady' to 'crazy old lady', which is actually a better fit for me). Up the stairs I went, watching this dubious example of the next generation hobble towards the J train platform (interesting...it's not often you see men’s fashion trends that hinder the mobility of the wearer - that's usually the province of women’s fashion), when along came a young woman, sporting her own interpretation of the same low-jeans fashion trend! Again, I thought the plumber butt/muffin top/low rider thing was pretty much over. The fashion rags and certain unfortunately-styled celebrities would have you believe that high-waisted mom jeans are the current thing. But there she was, wearing a pair of those super low jeans with the 3 inch zipper that were so hot a few years back, her rainbow striped underwear rising a few inches above the elaborately stitched back pockets. The rest of the outfit was utterly unique. She wore a cheetah print hooded capelet that ended above the waist, neon-framed 80s sunglasses (at night, in the subway), and bright green pumps with gold heels and gold trim that reminded me of these by Irregular Choice. The ensemble was completed by a stackful of brightly colored retro plastic bangles, and slung over her shoulder was the Harajuku Lovers Gwen tote. Her hands weren't even touching her gigantic bag - a permanent 'fashion slouch' was sufficiently holding it onto her shoulder. This was an example of a truly intriguing person - when the combination and styling of the clothing items and accessories is so unique that my mind takes a snapshot and I have to wonder who she is, where she's going, what she does for work. The cutest girl I'd seen all day, that I encountered so briefly, is no doubt an up and coming stylist and/or designer, indie rock musician, party promoter, or something of that ilk. I probably couldn't stand the bars she goes to or the music she listens to. I'll never know, and that's what makes it even more fun and special. I'd been planning on buying one of those new awesome digital cameras like this panasonic with a leica lens that are supposedly so great that even a monkey locked in a closet can take perfectly lit, crisply focused shots. I thought I would photograph the stylish people I encounter, give them my card and tell about my blog. But there are already blogs out there doing that, and they are not that interesting. I think I'm going to stick with the camera in my mind, running off to jot out a crude sketch as quickly as possible to keep the memory fresh (which I did that day, right in the train station). So while once again, I will never know who that young woman is or what she does, I'm fairly certain in the knowledge that she wouldn't give the time of day to the first idiot I saw going up the stairs.