Fashismo

Fashionistas! Roman! Couture-men! Lend me your ears! You know how there's an elite few who influence the world's taste in fashion? The designers, the celebrities, and the rock stars, and assorted other fabulous people? You can add one more name to that list. Me, baby; me. For some reason everything I wear or think is cool ends up busting through to the mainstream. If you think I'm exaggerating, then consider:

• Hawaiian Shirts - I was rockin' them back in junior high, much to the amusement of my peers. A few years later everybody was stylin' them. Oh well, at least the revival died quickly...
  
• "Emo" Glasses - I desperately wanted a pair back in '97. But wouldn't you know it, they were impossible to find. Um, not anymore...
  
• Work Shirts - Back in '98, I decided that old work shirts from Value Village were good enough to make up my wardrobe. Again, to the amusement of my peers. The one I liked the most (and everybody else wouldn't shut up about) was my Edmonton Transit shirt. You don't know how many people asked if I drove a bus. And when after much prodding I said no, they asked why the hell I was wearing it in the first place. Um... who knows? It was cheap! Cheap and snazzy! Fast forward four years to me looking through a newspaper. I come upon the Trendwatch section and contained therein was an interview with a girl declaring her love for old work shirts. Her favorite one? Edmonton Transit. *explodes*
  
• Old School Sneakers - I despised those big, fancy skate shoes that were popular a few years ago. All I wanted was a damn simple sneaker; one it seems like they had stopped making. And now it's 2004, Will Smith is wearing Chuck Taylors in I, Robot, and Nike has just bought Converse. It's enough to make a grown man cry. Well, there's always this...
  

Does it seem like I'm bitching about other people rockin' my steez? Nah, I don't care about that. What pisses me off is that everybody looks better wearing them than I do.

Why am I bothering to tell you this? The first and most obvious answer: Well, why do I tell you people anything, anyway? The second and more pertinent answer: I sense a new trend going; I can feel its rumbling in my bones. Transmissions from the Ether of Fashion are revealing its secrets to me. And knowing the luck I have with picking bandwagons, I would be remiss if I didn't share my newfound knowledge with you. You want to know what's going to be blowin' off the roof soon?

Bow ties.

No joke. Bow. Fucking. Ties.

But no, you shout; no! Not bow ties! They're the domain of "hip" young conservative pundits like Tucker Carlson! They'll never be fit for a progressive young dynamo like myself! Well, that's where you're wrong. Y'all are forgettin' one thing, the man who made bow ties awesome in the first place:


Yo.

Yep. That's Lester B. Pearson - my personal favorite Prime Minister of Canada - throwin' down the Gauntlet of Style. You think you're man/woman enough to step to his game? Huh? Ya pansy-ass mofos? Think you can mess with L.B. Fresh? Let's see you bring it, then. Starting rockin' the ol' BT, and we'll see how thug y'all are. Remember, Streets is Watchin'.

On that note, if rappers haven't been referencing Lester B. Pearson in their lyrics, they need to start immediately. If they can print Trudeau's face on women's undergarments, then pop culture can at least do this for me.

Ridin' with my homes L.B. Fresh
Slappin' down fools like Baker's D
LBJ, he tried some frontin'
But you don't fuck wit' LBP