5 Grievances of a Fashion Geek

5 trends I decided to gripe about.
I find these truths to be self-evident.


This is a bit of a contradiction, no? I feel there may be a miffed cow somewhere wanting vindication for the fact that a leather jacket made out of his friend Manny is being mocked by a jacket pretending to be leather and costing about the same.
I definitely don’t have a problem with vegans…or with self-proclaimed meatitarians (holler, cousin Brooks). I enjoy a healthy dose of protein by way of a t-bone. I could also legitimately tick off some gardeners if I were a rabbit. My beef is simply in the fact that I feel someone is not being completely honest with me. Express is honest with me. “PERFORATED (MINUS THE) LEATHER SCOOP BACK TEE.” See. Simple math.
So, what is it? Am I wearing soybeans or corn gluten? Malt-o-meal? Color treated pea pods? …And if I throw this into a pot of boiling water will it turn into a gravy-like paste? (I feel like that is a valid concern.)
Granted, I can very easily google it, be wiser and get over it, which I will probably do after I post this blog. However, I have a feeling that it won’t change the fact that it needs new terminology. Plastic leather…pleather. Vegan leather…?
I’ll work on it.


I shy away from heavy trends. I tend to want to do the opposite. My brother concluded that was why I decided to be in a wheelchair. (If you don’t think that’s funny, there’s something wrong with you.)
What makes a saturated trend even worse is when every person…and organization…and company…and hobo does his own spin off. The internet has turned a WWII propaganda poster into something that makes me want to “freak out and dwell on it.”


Mural Fingers

Nail art is a big deal these days, especially with sites like pintrest posting how-tos. I have a folder on my desktop full of ideas I’ve seen on facebook. In thirty years I will have tried them all once, since I paint my nails about twice a year. It really makes my drawer o’ nail polish extremely cost efficient. A friend of mine has a vat of nail polish, though. She could start a nail polish store.
It is all very fun. I am always for creative expression. However, I draw the line at murals. These are fingernails, not a 20×32 canvas, a brick alley wall or even a 5-panel comic strip.
Call me old school, but I like commenting with an all-encompassing “I love your nails!“ I don’t want to have to ask what your index nail is so I can fill the gap in the storyline. Michelangelo painted the 9 scenes from the Book of Genesis on the ceiling of the Sistine chapel (not on his fingernails) for a reason.


Dear moody teen,
You don’t have dreadlocks.


I am sure most bros have put away their tanks now that summer has ended, but I have a feeling a decent percentage of them wear theirs around the house just to feel awesome. That’s what a bro tank does. It takes a normally, self-assured man and turns him into a tanning-bed-using, iron-pumping, 360 degrees of pure freaking awesome. That tank top is a testosterone injection into his posture and strut. Suddenly, he has a knack for throwing flying discs. Hell, his name isn’t even Kevin anymore, it’s K-vin.
I feel like I am supposed to hate bro tanks, but I’m not entirely sure that I do. I think I just have a problem with some of the guys who wear them. Because even though they don’t go around licking their biceps, I’m pretty sure they are imagining it every time they catch their reflection in a window or a puddle.
Keep in mind, though, dude, that tank doesn’t make you invincible. Nor does it make you exempt from getting run over in the mall parking lot. Next time I will significantly injure your Frisbee arm with my Chrysler Town and Country. Walk like you have got some sense.
Next summer when you bust out that Hollister color-blocked tank like you were the first dude to ever wear one, be mindful and show some respect to the bro tank pioneer.

And be aware that you are one accidental stretch-out from this.
Food for thought, bro.

Captain Ron