Fashion by Alejandro

My own personal style has never caught on among the public, it has thankfully become lass garish over time, though it’s far from high fashion. I divide up my choice of clothes into three separate categories, each of which last a few years. The first I call “Hawaiian Workman,” the second “Marmy Pan,” and the third and current style is “Crapabilly.” Now I shall bestow to you a description of each of these three stages of my clothing choices.

Phase 1: Hawaiian Workman, 2001-2003

When first entering puberty, I had no sense of being any kind of attractive to the opposite gender, and never really seemed to worry about it for the first few years. Perhaps my subconscious knew that there was no possible way I would be desirable to girls, as my personal bathing habits were far from nominal.
Mercifully the only photographic evidence of this stage is that from my eight grade yearbook, where I look not unlike a Belgian lesbian. Every day I went to school wearing garish button up shirts, usually with a pattern featuring palm trees, or faux Chinese lettering, as all cool kids dressed this way. Perhaps I shouldn’t have used Jimmy Buffett as my example of how a man should dress. Besides the fabulously smelly nerd shirts, I also equipped some cheap denim jeans, and work boots on a daily basis. What woman wouldn’t swoon at my presence?

Phase 2: Marmy Pan, 2003-2007
Though my high school required me to wear a uniform, I still had my own personal vogue which I wore on the weekends. I had emerged from my Hawaiian shirt and work boots, and slipped into an endless closet of black shirts and cargo pants, with Chuck Taylors that looked bad with any color. Perhaps I believed that if I wore clothes vaguely similar to what GIs wear, I might obtain some kind of physical prowess, or even some dignity. As well all know, that was not the case. My lack of physical activity and combat training would have led me to instantly wet myself and spaz-out across the battle field, leading to some interesting psychological warfare. Not only did I wear cargo pants, but ill fitting cargo pants, which were either too long, or high waters, so I looked a fool no matter what the occasion. This was also the point in life, where I refused to wear blue jeans, perhaps I found them to be bourgeois or something.

Phase 3: Crapabilly 2008-now
After my first semester in college, I lost forty something pounds, rendering my previous line of clothing to be more useless than a can opener in the frozen food isle. So, as opposed to continuing my use of pockets on my lower thighs, I found another person in which to emulate my dressing abilities; Josh Homme. The front man of Queens of the Stone Age was never my favorite as he was to my friend James, but I did think his post-modern rockabilly look was much better than my parachute pants. Though I bypassed the sleeveless shirt action, I did find an affinity for pearl snap buttons, which made my arms looks like they contain more than tapioca pudding, and the torso shape, which makes a mild attempt at hiding my love handles. So, as I venture onward through life, it's unknown how I will dress. Though I'm fairly sure I won't follow Lady GaGa's example, despite the fact she wrote that song about me.