You know, I always loved using high fashion to get people to think I’m relevant and matter as a human being as much as the next person. But, in the past five years or so, I’ve noticed: when I don’t like my up-till-now designer’s latest look, I can’t lie to myself or you by wearing it or even saying something nice about their ugly ensembles on deck for next season.
I just…
I can’t pretend anymore.
Must stop this fashion trend charade.
Thus, (much like when I learn about the sweatshop conditions they manufacture their shit in) if your latest line reeks of tacky ass ho, I do what any trailblazer does – veer off the path. Avoid you. Find my own, new, unique something or someone to buy from as I work on looking awesome (if you look good and feel good, then you can make a fair trade potato sack look better than your fat friend does in Chanel).
So what makes people suddenly at-first-sight fall in love with hate-able trends? When they worship the latest and greatest blindly, is it that same validation that I myself have sought all my life? And still do? Is that why they lie and say they know who designers are – when they don’t?
Jimmy Kimmel wondered too.
Not enough to actually ask them, mind you. Just enough to troll a few fakers.
And then share it with us so we can laugh at them and feel better about ourselves.
Well, that was just painful to watch.
But I’m not just poking fun of fashionistas. People do this in every group – whether it’s on a runway, in a high school, or at a political gathering. We’ve found an interest and we’ve found other people who share that interest and we’re terrified about showing our f’real faces. We want people to think we’re in the know – or else we might be rejected from the pack, whereupon we skulk off into the gutter, and slowly die in a pile of our own social irrelevance.
So we fake it. Confidently.
I don’t have any life advice to offer on this trickery our minds like to play on us.
That’s mostly because I’m just as guilty of wanting to be accepted and trying to get it. Maybe my means of getting it and plan of attack have less to do with high fashion lately, but I’m still totally susceptible to this brain defect driving me to people please for the sake of ultimately marinating in my own ego. And to any of my fashion friends reading this and shaking your heads, saying, “We lost another one…”, I offer you some evidence in support of why I just can’t with fashion trends right now. Especially this fall.
Let’s start with jewelry:
I’d almost rather have a real spider on my neck than th-
Okay, no. I can’t even joke about that.
I’ll take this hideous Betsey necklace, albeit reluctantly, if I have to choose.
Yes.
It’s Yurman – which I’ve long loved. But, let’s be honest.
This looks like the Itsy Betsey Spiders from above took the jewels and started death-wrapping it up for dinner.
Can’t get laid?
Try non-verbally hypnotizing everyone into complying like Lucy Liu here.
1. Is that racist?
2. Who else want to see the dude jeans peen version of this?
Oh, good.
My hazmat suit’s arrived to my home right as ebola has to my hometown.
#perfecttiming
Open palm. Insert face.
To be fair, the left side model only gets away with this because she looks like she just murdered someone in Dexter gloves with those rosary beads. That and because she doesn’t look like she just got into a catfight at Krispy Kreme over the last of the custard filled donuts right after hot yoga.
Okay. Is all this enough?
Have I made my point sufficiently?
Or do you have any other godawful trends this year to support my ban?