Your Wake Up Call

Have you had that nagging feeling lately like there’s something on your mind but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it or remember what it was about? Sure you have. Well, I’m about to tell you what that nagging feeling was. You’ll thank me later.

Last week I was graced with the sight of a younger girl, around 190 lbs. (which is probably giving her the benefit of the doubt that she’s under 200), wearing low-rise jeans that likely would have risen a bit higher if they fit correctly, but this young wearer mistakenly felt like she was actually dressed just because she squeezed her legs and half of her thighs into them. She was wrong. She was showing ass crack before she even bent over, and that’s awful. It might have been less noticeable if she hadn’t been wearing a tight little T-shirt that seemed to only come down to her bellybutton, leaving much of her belly, sides and back exposed. Not pretty.

In fact, I assumed she was pregnant. It made much more sense to think that she couldn’t afford maternity clothes, and as she grew with the baby, she was forced to wear her old clothes. It didn’t matter that she looked like she was only 14. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t really a round shape to her belly. I was, again, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

And I was thinking that the baby was probably freezing cold with all of that belly exposed. Poor fetus.

To say that I was surprised to learn that she was not pregnant would’ve been an understatement.

Her mother walked up to her, shook her head back and forth, chastised her for insisting on wearing clothes for someone half her size, informed her that her belly was hanging out, and that she looked like a slob.

The girl rolled her eyes, insisted it was the fashion, which her mother clearly knew nothing about, and she wandered away.

I felt old. I remembered telling my parents the same thing when I grew my hair long and ratty, wore only torn jeans, and LIVED in my denim jacket with all the buttons pinned on it. Of course, that’s not nearly as hideous as this new look, so I do feel a little vindicated in finding this young girl so distasteful.

This is not pretty, people!
It wasn’t long after that when I spotted another lass with a hairstyle that brought sudden clarity to me.

She had the swept bangs thing going on, only it was a harsh case. She’d plastered the bangs to her forehead and sprayed them severely with hairspray, which held most of the style in place except that occasionally there were small splits in the hairs, looking a lot like tattered feathers separating. Now, it’s not the swept bangs that I don’t like, because my hair is cut in the same way (which takes too much work, so I generally brush those bastards back), and it’s not that they slick them down hard against their skull, which, well, okay, I take that back, it’s ugly. But my point is that it’s when they take bangs from one side of their head and sweep them horizontally across their foreheads. Horizontal bangs. Horizontal bangs plastered hard to the skull. Horizontal bangs plastered hard to the skull, separating like tattered feathers. Do you think this is pretty? If you’re taking bangs from beyond the top of your head, and it’s actually from down the side, approaching your temple, and you’re pulling that hair across your forehead, you’ve officially crossed over and taken a bad hair style and made it ten times worse.

Because when I see it, I think one thing: comb-over.

Look at this picture.


If not for the geeky glasses and fake baldness underneath, you could take that wig and pull it forward a bit, which would easily look like anyone at a red carpet event. Seriously. I swear that’s how Kim Kardashian tells stylists to cut her bangs.

Look, here’s a couple with matching comb-overs, and she’s rocking it better than he is!


It’s so wrong! Women should never comb-over! Never! And to do it better? I just…I can’t even find the words to describe my disgust.

Okay, so let’s add it up.

We have women wearing pants that won’t stay up with bellies hanging out, which is a tragically unflattering look, but when they bend over, there’s the even more heinous view of buttcrack.

What’s that remind you of?

Plumber’s butt. That’s right.

Do you see a trend here? Do you see what fashion is doing? We’re taking the very things we have spent our entire lives laughing at, and doing it to ourselves. ON PURPOSE!

Somewhere, refrigerator repair men are feeling very proud of the trend setting they’ve done.

Hey, Marv! Did you see last night Eva Mendez borrowed your hair?Oh yeah! And Keira Knightley borrowed your hair for her look! We are so cool, Stu!

I’m going to start snapping photos of female butt cracks jutting out of jeans that are way too low and turn it into a contest, to see if you can spot the middle-aged man among them. I’m betting it’s going to be harder than you think. Throw in the bad comb-over bangs and you’ll wish I didn’t remind you about the fact that you are sporting a fashion modeled after you dorky, drunk uncle Remus. You may think you look hot doing it, but you don’t. Well, maybe your dorky, drunk uncle Remus thinks so.

What’s the next ridiculous look going to be?

Oh, and aren’t you glad I told you what that nagging feeling was in the back of your mind? You knew the dumpy, middle-aged man look was taking over women’s fashion, but you just didn’t know how to articulate it yet.

You’re welcome. Now let’s all cut this shit out.