So today I hit ye olde Mall-O-America in hopes of executing one simple mission: buying a new pair of shoes. Sneakers. Tennies. Whatever you want to call them. I was also on the lookout for a simple pair of brown corduroy pants. Did I accomplish my mission? No. I ended up leaving the mall with only a Darth Vader wallet and an iced mocha. Why? Because if you're me, every last item you see on men's clothing racks and shelves makes you want to bash your head into the wall wondering where all of the good stuff is at.
I. If ya Shoes, ya lose.
Have you looked in shoe stores lately? Have you seen the horseshit that they call "footwear" and expect me to actually pay top dollar to put on my feet and go out into public? I give you Exhibit A:
Pardon my love of using the word fuck, but I can't help looking at that turd disguised as a shoe and thinking to me-self "What the fuck is this??" Are there giant blue ducks bred somewhere in a factory where once they're big enough, they cut off their beaks and fashion them into shoes? Aye. It puts a massive hurt on my psyche just thinking about myself walking down the street in a pair of these, much less knowing that people actually buy this stuff and wear it. Worse yet, these kinds of shoes come in a vast array of colors.. one for each day of the week. The most painful variation of this shoe I saw looked like it was made out of tinfoil. If you're Ace Frehley, that's cool... but if you're a honkey-ass hippety hopper from the burbs, let me warn you - you're at high risk of seeing yourself in a photograph 5 years from now wearing those shoes wishing someone had slapped some sense into you.
Hurley used to make a knockoff of the classic Chuck Taylor canvas shoe (which is what I wear 99% of the time), but they were built much better than Chucks and were way more comfy. I was a huge fan of this particular shoe make/model, and guess what happened? They stopped making them. Fuckers! Looks like it's back to the paper-thin Chucks for now. Hello, aching soles.
Walk into Foot Locker and find something in the men's shoe section that doesn't look completely futuristic and ridiculous. I dare you. Shoes are not shoes anymore... they all have such complex aesthetic designs that it looks like you're wearing electronic tacos on your feet. I don't care how comfy they are, I refuse to wear electronic tacos. Where did the simple designs go?
II. Clothing: The wrapping paper of our lives
Duuuuuude, don't even get me started on clothing. One of my favorite Billy Joel lyrics that always hits close to home is "Ya can't dress trashy till you spend a lot of money!" Brother knew what he was talking about! Anything my eyes are instantly drawn to usually has a price tag that forbids me from buying any of it, and I've learned for the most part ot stay away from those places. I know I'm already taking one step up and two steps back looking for apparel at a mall, but I was desperate... you'd think a brown pair of cords wouldn't be that hard to find, yes? Think again.
Malls are where boys that I call "Chads" furnish their closets and drawers.
Recipe for a Chad
1 plaid shirt (with buttons, not snaps)
expensive bluejeans
baseball cap with the bill severely bent into a horseshoe shape
highlighted blond hair
necklace with tiny seashells strung on it,
and flip flops.
It's warm out now and the flip flop is the official warm weather shoe of the Chad. Otherwise it's safe to assume you'll see them in things like the duckbill disaster pictured up above. There's a good chance that you will find an Eminem CD in a Chad's collection as well (see it? It's right next to his Nas CD). My apologies if your name is Chad and you're a cool dude, but I've known 3 Chads, all bearing an uncanny resemblance to one another - hence the stereotype.
I digress.. I am what some have referred to as an "aging hipster". That phrase makes me laugh, because if you are a hipster and you aren't aging, that means you're most likely dead (or you use a lot of Oil Of Olay). I'm about as far as you can get from a "Chad", and that makes it very hard to find clothing I feel represents my unique, high caliber (ha ha!) tastes. This is why for the most part I end up wearing jeans and a tee-shirt with something dumb written on it. Because I've given up on finding male clothing out there that won't make me look like A) the all American Hooters Boy, and/or B) Like I just stepped out of a sandy beach house.
So here I sit with my new Darth Vader wallet (which by the way is quite bitchin'), 3 year old pair of Levis, and tee-shirt with a dumb thing written on it (today's shirt reads "California: 'The Really Long State'"). I'm contemplating going to Ragstock and a few other thrift stores in hopes of finding a buried treasure at a fraction of the cost of an article of Chad clothing. And better yet, none of the Chads next to me thumbing through the mass produced clothing designed to make its buyers feel "different; just like everyone else."
Wish me luck.. this is a frustrated Micycle, over and out.
