Let me rephrase that. At the risk of showing what an old fuddy-duddy I am, I’ve just gotta say I’m baffled by the whole holey-pants thing. Oh, I know it’s all the rage. You’d have to live on another planet not to know that you can’t be cool without having holes in your jeans. You can’t shop anywhere for a pair without wondering if the inventory was exported from some thrift store in a third world country.
I try to be cool, keep up with the fashion trends and all, but I just can’t bring myself to buy something that’s already on its last threads. It could be because of my particularly non-affluent background. Even as poor as we were I would have been mortified if my faded, second-hand, hand-me-downs had holes in the knees. Or maybe I just learned to be frugal enough not to pay for something that wasn’t there—like fabric.
My philosophy is this. You earn your way through life and that includes your holes. If I’m going to wear holey pants it’s because I worked for every last one of them. Wearing clothes with pre-made holes is kinda like wearing artificial scars. See how hard I’ve worked? How much abuse and trauma I’ve endured! Manufactured holes and fake scars have something in common. They lack true passion.
So what if your holes are for real and you actually earned them with hard labor and long suffering? I’m sorry to say it doesn’t matter. Nobody can tell the difference. It’s like the great masses of paid protesters at a political demonstration—mixed in with a few dedicated passionate activists. Authenticity is simply swallowed up in the noisy crowd.
In the spirit of buying stylish holes, I’ve got a great idea for an entrepreneur searching for the next new craze. How about pre-dented cars? You could charge a fortune for them. Who wouldn’t want a Lamborghini with a few trendy scratches? Or if that’s too pricey you can always pick something up in the Designer/Dent division of any fine-car dealership.
No? Then how about this. A donut featuring two holes in every donut or a cookie with half the chocolate chips picked out. Still not keen on the notion? What if you sold clothes that were permanently pre-soiled with mud? Wait, I think Nordstrom already picked up that one. Sorry.
I’m just going to have to agree to disagree with what’s cool these days, I mean besides your legs in holey pants in the winter. You can call me what I am—an old fogy stick-in-the mud. Hey, that gives me a great idea for style with an edgy flair: Jeans with fake mud on a stick stuck through threadbare holes in the knees. For a few extra bucks you could get a theatre-quality fake scar showing people where the stick supposedly stuck. Now that’s cool.