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01/18 – Furious Styles.

Photo by Nick Nunziata.

I have noticed a drastic uptick in the amount of nightmarish fashion centered around that most lovely and comfortable article of clothing.

Sweat Pants.

And I’m not even talking about those pajama bottoms girls are wearing now. Or those abominations that say ‘pink’ on the ass. Though the dirty old man in me appreciates seeing a petite little dame stroll by on them, there’s the flip side. I’ve seen two-hundred and fifty pounds sloshing around in a pair of those as well. ‘Maroon’ makes more sense, as there’s a lot more space for the letters, it’s darker and less inviting, and you’ll sort of feel lost on an island if forced to spend too much time with the person.

But the real personal holocausts I’ve seen lately are people who think that sweat pants are an article of clothing with the same flexibility as jeans. Sweat pants with loafers. Sweat pants with work boots. Sweat pants with button-down shirts tucked into them.

And this kid in the picture above. What are those, fucking TEAL? With boots? With a ratty jacket? If I remember correctly, the kid was wearing a red hat. So, we have an assortment that not only flies in the face of logic and class, but also in the color spectrum.

And he had a girlfriend.

At some point the circle must be broken. There needs to be an intervention. Or a chemical blinding.