Showing posts with label cuffed jeans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cuffed jeans. Show all posts

Monday, September 22, 2008

Fashion Trend Alert - Cuffed Jeans

Fashion is largely an attempt at amusement through affectation and application. Its statements are sometimes also signals that, unlike the mythical phoenix, mutate when resuscitated. "Cuffed jeans" are a good example of fashion's modified messaging. In the 1950s, the exaggerated cuff was the mark of a young male prostitute working in New York City. Those cuffs probably telegraphed "I'm young, a hayseed, poor and wearing hand-me-downs from taller older brothers." Today's cuffage telegraphs "I'm young (or, would like to be considered such), moneyed and hip enough to know exactly how wide my cuffs ought to be."

Caution: do not confuse cuffs with rolls. Rolled jeans signify the proximity of high water, a bicycle or Mayberry. Cuffs are a deliberation for those unconcerned with the bail-outs of financial institutions or whether or not Frank Rich's coinage of the word truthiness meaning political mendacity will catch fire.

Caution: these cuffs should be applied exclusively to long legs. The short among us will not be permitted to adjust the width of the cuff proportionally.

Caution: cuffed denim shorts, like smallpox supposedly eradicated worldwide, reappeared on the streets of Manhattan toward the end of the summer. Black suited men jumping out of Crown Victorias snatched the guys wearing these off the sidewalks. I think they have it under control, but we won't know for sure until next summer.

On Saturday, on Bear Hill in Central Park, Ned cuffs:


Nick also cuffs:


The kids, Corey and Matt, still in knickers and therefore unable to cuff, were delighted with a new tee shirt from Lululemon that changes color wherever you chew it.

I myself own two Lululemon tee shirts. One has silver threads that supposedly absorb odor. They do. I smell like a locker room when I wear it. The second one was marketed as being made of seaweed. This was exposed as a hoax. I am remorseful when I wear this shirt. It is indeed a Lulu Lemon. I don't shop there anymore.

With no regard for appearances fashionable or un, our group fell into its usual shenanigans


Darkness surprised us, its equinocturnal army claiming our unguarded citadel while we were in a nearby valley throwing the frisbee. I think that next summer we will modify this game. The frisbee will be thrown from one group to another (rather than from one Sprite-addled blogger to the next) with individual teammates fighting for it. I suggest we call this new game "Catch the Bouquet".