Thursday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week. What is better for the soul than, right before the weekend, taking a hard-hitting look at what ridiculous fools we were in our youth.
Thank goodness we have a safe place to air out our past fashion grievances. There is strength in numbers and in knowing that you were not the only human who once wore tragically crooked press-on French nails to a Chinese buffet with your parents in middle school.
Or the only sixth grader who thought it was super cute to wear my father’s oversized sweatshirts over my too-tight jeans. My middle school logic was that if you couldn’t see my muffin top, I could still pull off, “This fits, I swear!”
And yet, nothing made this adorable, I’m-a-washed-up-forty-year-old-chainsmoker-stuck-in-the-body-of-an-eleven-year-old look more complete than decorated flip flops.
Decorated flip flops.
Maybe this was just a Southern thing. Maybe this was just a Georgia thing. Maybe this was specifically a Riverside Middle School thing.
No matter the scale of this tragedy, it is all of our responsibilities to spread the word to make sure that no other middle schooler ever pays her peers to decorate a pair of plastic flip flops.
I outsourced those bad boys. I paid other human beings real, people money that could have been spent on literally anything else to decorate a pair of plastic, pink flip flops with strips of felt.
And I am like a sane person. I can make a car payment as an adult.
There is no connection between being such a deranged youth and a (fairly) capable adult.
Which means that this fashion crime is even worse. It was committed by the sane.
Let us ban together to ensure that, in the future, we don’t sift through Big Bird’s fabric rejects at the bottom of his “To Be Donated” pile of clothes to decorate our feet.
What was wrong with it?
- The foundation of this fashion piece was flip flops. Flip flops are feet’s way of saying, “Up yours!” Flip flops are only appropriate if you are literally at the beach or if it is Sunday morning and you didn’t check your mail yesterday and you need to and you are still in your pajamas. Only two excuses.
- So we took a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing and decorated it with even more terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things. It would be like forcing your family to eat a dried up pork chop covered in relish. It is digestible – but barely. Don’t feed people dry relish chops and don’t wear decorated garbage.
- Would you just look at it?!
Why did we love it?
… I have no idea. There is no conceivable universe that I imagine this would a good idea.
Blue eyeshadow? Yeah. Okay. The eighties happened and that was a thing and we are moving on.
Terrible purses? There are always terrible bags.
But this? I don’t even have appropriate sarcasm. This is just rough.
Why did we allow this to happen? Why did we think this was okay?
I can only assume that we were participating in huffing or puffing or whatever drugs kinds were doing in the early 2000s.
How can we ensure that history doesn’t repeat itself?
How about we all agree to never, ever make sure horrible decisions. Legitimately horrible decisions.
And, remember, friends don’t let friends walk around on dumpster fill.
Comment below with any fashion trends you would love us to tear apart and lament.