The Bad Rep of the Fanny Pack

On the playground of fashion, no one gets more crap from the other kids than the mullet. But he’s not alone. Sitting right next to him in a pile of pea gravel with a scraped knee, juice mustache and a look of dejection is the fanny pack. In high school they were both voted most likely to be lame…forever (Squints Palledorous voice), and have since endured decades of ridicule. But in the case of fanny pack, I’m not entirely sure it’s warranted.

Confession: I loves me a fanny pack.

© 7Up Bottling Co.

© 7Up Bottling Co.

Growing up I had at least 2. I could basically run a small business out of one of them.
…it was nonprofit
…the money in it was probably from my grandma.
One was green nylon. The other was a black leather, multiple compartment, waist-wrapping awesomeness. Both had Spot on the front; the anthropomorphed red dot developed out of the 7Up logo in the late 80’s. Just got a visual didn’t you? Blew ya mind.

I loved my fanny pack. I mean, who doesn’t want a bag that is essentially a body appendage? I could bust a hip hop move and look fly like a B Girl doin’ it. I could run after foul balls and take a hit of fun dip on my way back, all without spilling a single granule of sugar. It was practical, compact and organized (sadly, some of the funnest words to a 9-year-old Tana). One of my favorite pass-times was taking everything out of it and re-organizing it again. I found pure joy in sorting smaller stuff into bigger stuff.

Reflecting on things like this, I am seriously amazed I was never made fun of growing up.

Fact is, though, I would peg that pack against any behemoth shoulder bag women these days are slipping discs with. I could fit so much junk in there.
-Like…all of my friendship bracelet stuff (embroidery floss, scissors, safety pins, a roll of tape)
-a troll (color variable…dependent upon how I was feeling that day)
-a roll of sour Hubba Bubba and probably some Laffy Taffy
-bandaids, tissue, a pen and paper and a nail clipper (because I was a Girlscout and was always prepared)
-And with all of that going on, I could often still find room for half a hotdog for later. (Fastpitch kid problems.)
…So, really, the basic essentials for any person on the go.

By name, the fanny pack is meant to be worn turned to the back like a third buttcheek. I, however, wore mine to the front and cocked just a little off center like a kangaroo with a pouch defect. Those 2″ of misalignment took it from mom to bomb. It was a declaration of how rad I was. When people saw me, they would nod their head and their eyes would be like, You are SO rad. I can tell by the way you wear your fanny pack. 

It’s true.

Here’s the deal, the f-pack is just a victim of misunderstanding and years of being worn the wrong way by the wrong people. We can blame every dude on the Venice Beach boardwalk in their speedo, and images like these.

Seriously. What?Ick

In effort to save face, some stores are calling them “waist bags.” Good try, but people aren’t stupid. Well, except maybe those dudes. Call it a Waist Bag all you want, a fanny pack is a fanny pack. You may not be able to polish a turd, but you sure as heck can change the way people feel about said turd with a few studs and the right fabric.

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If we all work together, we can undo the years of gross injustice. Let’s pick the fanny pack up out of the pea gravel, give it a Cynthia Rowley Bandaid and wipe off its juice ‘stache! Whattaya say?! Who’s with me?!

{Insert sound of crickets.}