The Clown Look!

I watched the Kentucky Derby this past weekend. The horse I picked to win actually won! That always happens when I don’t place a bet.

One thing that NBC focused on during their coverage was the fashionistas at this year’s race. Some woman was fawning over the “celebrities” there, as if she were Joan Rivers and the people she was interviewing were Oscar nominees strolling down the red carpet. I was kind of hoping to see one of the women wearing those floppy hats and thousand-dollar dresses step right into a road apple.

I’ve never cared for the fashion industry’s ideas of how the masses should look. I always have to laugh when I see a model walking down a runway wearing the expression and dress of a dour mannequin that has just crashed through a paper-mâché chicken coop.

But I shouldn’t talk. My idea of looking chic is when I find a tee-shirt to wear that doesn’t have an old ketchup stain on it. Even so, compared to most of the younger generation, my everyday attire makes me look like Fred Astaire on his way to a soirée with Eleanor Powell.

Now I’ve been around a few years, and I’ve seen fashions come and go. But I can’t believe the way that most young people dress has been the style for several years now (dare I say decades?). These ridiculous styles have far outworn their welcome.

Take shorts, for example. They’re not too damn short. For the most part, shorts these days cover the knees! In my day, we called these “clam-diggers”, or “culottes” for cryin’ out loud. I would never wear these to the beach. It must take at least two days for them to dry off! I refuse to wear something like that on a hot summer day. But —  due to the taboos that society today has placed on such attire —  I can’t wear a “Speedo”, which is a much more practical and comfortable form of beachwear.

Fortunately, I’ve been able to find shorts that hang down no further than mid-thigh. If it ever gets to the point where I can’t find anything other than those damn knee-level shorts to wear, then I swear; I’m goin’ in the water starkers.

And, if you will, allow me another rant (via another rap “song” I’ve composed) regarding jeans that are worn with the waistband below the butt cheeks.

Some beatbox rhythm, if you please:

oom pah pah, oom pah pah

With crotch to my knees,
I feel a breeze.
So you can stare
at my underwear.

‘Cause I’m a hip-hop
urban fop.
Gonna dance
in my “poopy pants”.

Listen up, fashion industry! Here’s what I propose for the latest trend: The Clown Look!

Imagine — hair flying off in all directions and dyed in unusual colors; wildly vivid makeup; shirts untucked and unkempt; big, gaudy shoes; baggy pants and… hold on a sec… what the heck am I saying? That is the style of the day.