Le Horreur: DC Fashion Felonies

Darklings,

It's your leading luminary, Auntie Alex writing from a cubicle in exotic Arlington. Your other editrix, the celebrated superstar, Dame Allie, is running about, living the life we all wish we could have. That harlot.

Anyways, in about two shakes of a lamb's tail I'll be embarking to mysterious Capitol Hill to witness a lovely and revealing hearing. Remember duckies, Auntie A. always gets her educational content done in style, albeit, on a budget. Speaking of which, I'm in a bit of a titchy over the current state of style in this area. I have some qualms with the current 'look' permeating throughout certain crowds. Now, I'm not usually one to pass judgment, but never on God's green earth have I seen such standardized style. My darling afficiandos and afficianadas, what's wrong? Perhaps you're not aware of your shortcomings. Allow me to enlighten you, a la Voltaire in the 18th century.

Uniform #1: Tragique Indie Boy

There you pose, in your Urban Outfitters hoodie, all while simultaneously rambling about how the man has you down. You’re so proud of being tragic and love to promote your lack of interest in anything to everyone. You have no passion, and you’re proud. You ramble on and on about how much you love LCD Soundsystem. You would let Thom Yorke fuck you in the ass. Perhaps that’s why you wear your tight Levis so low on your backside. Oh, you angst-ridden faux-vintage flannel shirt sporting phoney, your idol Holden Caulfield wouldn’t buy in to your bullshit for one second. Here’s a tip- Put away the Nike dunks, UGLY concert shirts (because looking like shit is so ironic, right?), and banish your Nikon from your neck. Maybe then you’ll be just like then men you so wish you could be.

Uniform #2: Insidious Intern.

Aw, you’re so cute. You’re working for NOTHING in the House and think you’re really, really, really special because of it. Oh golly gosh, hopefully in ten years you’ll crack 5 figures when you become a legislative aide. Hell, maybe you’ll make half-a-mil if you sell out and work on K street, but until then, you’re stuck copying. In all seriousness, the worst part about these interns isn’t their holier-than-thou attitude or practiced sneer. No. It’s their style. Not only do these interns insist on wearing pleated pants for their post-pubescent bodies, but they shell out tons of cash at Brooks Brothers (to accessorize with their Rainbow flipflops) to look like le merde. How appalling. They work for nothing and they look like nothing you’d want to bring home to your mummy.

Oh, and darlings—Wearing your badge outside of Capitol Hill isn’t a fashion statement; it’s a fashion felony.

Uniform #3: The Creepy Soccer-Dad Guy on the Metro

You’re one creepy guy. You breathe through your mouth, wear expensive glasses, and look like a soccer dad. Your Lacoste polo is your way of conveying to the world that you have money, and you’re proud of it. Yet, I’m confused—Why are you riding public transportation then, and trying to hit on me? Quel Horreur. Perhaps if you had your own personality, you wouldn’t look like a carbon copy of that older man next to you. Alas. I guess money can’t buy style.

Live it out,

xxxxx AA