Some people don’t like olives. Some people cringe at the sound of country music. Some people hate Obama Care. And, I’m not a big fan of shopping at the mall.
There is something about the lighting, the noise, the smell, the clutter, the crowd that rubs me the wrong way. However, my family thought it was high time that I “contemporize” my style with a few purchases. Turns out that malls are where styles live, thrive, procreate, or whatever it is that they do. Deep down, I think my family sees me as their own version of “What Not to Wear,” the popular TLC television show where “fashionistas” descend on style-less dolts in hopes of making them over.
Now, if I had to identify my individual “style,” it would probably be best described as “off-duty park ranger-chic.” Jeans, khakis, plaid or technical shirts, fleece, and trail shoes. Function trumps style in my book. In short, all I really need in terms of clothing -- at least in my opinion – can be purchased thru backcountry.com, or by popping into local outdoor shops like a Blue Ridge Mountain Sports or Wild River Outfitters.
So, one night last week, my wife and I entered the glitz, the glamour, and the annoying white noise of the Lynnhaven Mall, a popular mall in suburban Virginia Beach. The first place we entered was called Banana Republic where we were greeted by faceless mannequins with the physique, stance and dress of a couple of guys I knew in college who I assumed, and rightly so, were of questionable sexual orientation. Regardless, the young clerk helped us locate the pants section where rows of denim, khaki, and greens were stacked like Pringles.
This should be easy; I was wrong.
Who new? There’s relaxed fit, boot cut, authentic cut, this cut and that cut. After a little bit of searching and randomly unfolding pants (so much for the nice Pringle stacks), I found a pair of jeans that looked like they might work. The clerk guy was overly attentive and followed me to the dressing room because, as you know, I’ve never put on a pair of pants before.
I emerged from the dressing room where my wife and the clerk guy were waiting anxiously for my cat walk. Now, I don’t mind my wife checking out my butt when clerk guy wanted me to turn around, I felt a little uncomfortable. What’s next? My phone number? Date night? The holidays at his house?
“So, what do you think?” asked my wife. I told her that the jeans fit well but wasn’t too keen on the neon green stitching that ran parallel to the traditional gold stitching which often appears on blue jeans. See, I know a little bit about style. Truth be told, I’m not sure how I in the living hell, I missed that detail, but neon green stitching on blue jeans? It was probably invented by the same guy who suggested lemon wedges in beer. Don’t belong.
Next, we strolled over to the GAP which I think should be called the “TEAR.” Everywhere I looked, there were jeans that looked like the ones I had in college or high school with one exception: The fade and holes in these jeans were manufactured to look like they have been “worn.” Now, I am of the opinion that any fade / holes in jeans should be earned, not bought. Worn and torn jeans should have an epic story behind it. Stories like: “There I was during Greek Week. My friend Grizzly said there was NO way I could window dive out of frat house without hitting the frame. So, I gave him my beer. And, as I took off running, some girl from a visiting sorority blew chunks all over the floor which totally screwed up my take off. I slipped momentarily, regained my balance, only to.. . ”
These days, people simply plop down $100+ for “worn” jeans with no story. I find it quite amusing and sad that people buy these jeans in pursuit of “fashion”. What’s next? Will these same fashion lemmings start buying cars with dents and scrapes because it becomes a fashion? It wouldn’t surprise me.
The evening ended somewhat successfully. I did purchase new blue jeans. To clarify, I bought a pair of BLUE jeans which will serve as a clean slate for stories and adventures. Any holes or fade will be earned. I also picked up a pair of Khakis that look like khakis from 50 years ago. And reluctantly, I also bought a sport jacket which, according to my wife, makes me “look professional, yet casual.”
I seriously considered finding a fashion or style quote with which to end this blog post, but nothing caught my eye. So I decided to make up my own. Here it goes. Feel free to agree or disagree. “A person’s actions say more about their style than the clothes they wear. Fashions come and go. A kind word, a helping hand, or a joke that makes you laugh so hard you cry says more about your style than a power tie, a popular brand name, or a fleeting fashion.
