A Broke Ass Tale - Skinny Jeans, by Baby Rox
Ok. So. The fact that downtown is infested with wack yuppies and excessive, cool-seeking, corporate boutiques is not news to anyone. It’s common knowledge. It all fits into a pattern. The exemplar embodiment of this trend is the downfall of CBGB’s. First, last year it closed. Then, it was boarded up. Then the “CBGB’s” skin came off of the awning skeleton. Then it just looked shitty and sad. Which, for my neighborhood is totally acceptable. Then one day, not long ago, I was walking home from the train, already in a so-so mood, due to something or other that no doubt pissed me off (insert any derogatory comment about tourists, Men’s Warehouse flyer-hawkers or short people with umbrellas here), traversing Bleecker towards Bowery and hideous neon lights, a bobo Statue of Liberty and a new navy skin over the old, roundy CBGB’s awning smacked me in the face. John mutherfucking Varvatos. What the fuck. I threw up in my mouth a little, narrowly avoided being clipped by a skuzzy cab and stared in horror at what CB’s had become. Walking across 1st street, disappointed in the world, I thought people couldn’t get any worse. And, typical God move, I was proved so so wrong.
The Exxon at 2nd Avenue, a totally non-offensive, in fact necessary place of business turned on me. It was the all too real backdrop for the most offensive thing I have seen all year (since John Varvatos’ cancerous takeover of CBGB’s): a fucking toddler in skinny jeans. Yes. Wait, no way. This kid had to be in the middle of a three year old growth spurt or something. His pants were just too small for him. But no, upon minor stalking and closer inspection I realized they were sitting on just the right glutial-latitudinal line, the ankles came in way too close and fitted, the length just grazing his baby Uggs. It was true. Humans had dropped down to the final sartorial low. Dressing our children in not just Jim Morrison bibs or Che Guevara onesies, but in fucking skinny jeans. Subjecting someone who thinks the country we all live in is called “New York” and can’t even reliably go to the bathroom in an actual toilet to the whims of the clothing industry is just plain wrong. As if it’s not bad enough that college educated, newspaper reading, responsible, voting citizens can’t even figure out that they don’t look good in something as difficult as skinny jeans weren’t bad enough. Maybe that’s why some choose to dress the fruit of their loins in trendy shit. They can’t pull it off themselves, so they figure they’ll start living vicariously through their children early, and dress them in styles they themselves can’t pull off while the child is still suckling the teat. What’s next? Skinny headbands on newborns? Raybans for the big first day of preschool? Celebrities already give their kids unfortunate, homemade looking haircuts and fucked up “organic” names. But real people? They’re supposed to have real kids, right? I guess not. Whatever happened to Oshkoshbagosh overalls or even Jams? Hell, fucking Hypercolor was better than this. What has the world of toddling fashion come to or mayhap an even more pressing question is why are we dressing our kids like mini-adult idiots?
Skinny jeans on a toddler. What are his parents trying to do? Make his diaper bulge all the more visible and appealing to baby snatchers? Bad idea. It’s like Chris Rock said about supposed vulgarity: there are no bad words, just bad ideas. Let’s all fucking dress kids like fucking kids and let them look young and fucking childlike. Good idea. Let’s put them in skinny jeans and baby Ed Hardy. Bad idea.
Whatever. At least that kid’s parents didn’t put him in Crocs. Fucking cream cheese.
