I’ve never lived in a city quite like Corpus. People in other cities never cared what I wore or my state of hygiene. That would be considered gay. And if they knew me, they would know I didn’t give a fuck.
But my dearest friends in this fucking town can’t help but comment on my state of dress every time I see them. This is extremely annoying to me for several reasons.
- Corpus ain’t a fucking cat walk. What you wear here isn’t going to splash the pages of a major alt-fashion magazine. You may look as cool as those cute Williamsburg bros, but you’re still in a lame city where few people are going to notice your high priced threads.
- Fashion should be individualized. I haven’t bought an article of clothing in over a year. And most my wardrobe consists of the same stuff I wore in High School. I am far from fashionable, but I think I have created my own unique brand. With this mindset, the last thing I want to hear is that I need to hit up the Mall or Old Navy for some hipper clothes.
- I didn’t think out these points before I started puking them out, so this one is a continuation of point 1. Where exactly do these wannabe hip cats display their fashions? The ones who personally critique my fashion choices don’t go anywhere where anyone would give a shit what they wear. They rot at Coffee Waves or grab a drink at Vernons. They are not even close to attracting the copious amounts of stinking pussy they infer that they should be getting because they are wearing a horizontally striped form fitted shirt.
- Why do people want to look like everyone else? Maybe it’s my punk ethos, but I’ve never understood that dude mindset of comparing shoes and shirts and even fucking pants. There’s something extremely gay about being excited about what another person f the same sex is wearing and inquiring where they got it.
- Clothes should be first and foremost functional. I don’t know how females work, but dudes’ needs are simple. They need to have dexterity of movement. I think that’s about it. Everything else is a garnish. So, the skinny jeans and the form fitted shirts and loafer type shoes are all ridiculous to me. I ride my bike and I sweat and I live to love. If I can’t do those things, then I will pass on those clothes.
I’ve had dudes giggle as I approach them due to my state of dress. I don’t even know how to react. I don’t want to look like them. I’m not offended by their derisive looks and comments. I could care less. If you look like a faggot and you care what I wear then the onus really falls on me to stop being your friend. If it bothers me that much. But it really doesn’t. I just find the whole thing to be eminently ~bloggable~ so here I am. Dishing it out like a bitch with a warm wet nose full of boogers.