The current Reagan-induced eighties nostalgia has prompted Good Grief! to address a serious issue: people flipping their collars like it’s 1987.
It started innocently enough when Superwoman and I went to the god-awful-evil-super-mega-outlet mall and noticed flipped-collar guy being dragged around the Banana Republic factory store by his girlfriend. He was in his early twenties, a clean-cut preppy sort. We laughed him off as an fashion anomaly.
But like the cicadas, the collar creatures were soon turning up everywhere. Rittenhouse Square is crawling with them, they’re all over Walnut Street, and on Saturday night I counted a half dozen in a single Old City bar. Are these people turning up in other cities too? Indeed they are.
What’s worse than the young, twentysomething crowd flipping their collars, however, are the thiry-and-forty-somethings following their lead in a desperate struggle for hipness. Don’t you people remember how silly we looked the last time around? I do. Julie R, my best friend in junior high, had a father who worked for Izod. So we were, like, totally hooked up. We were getting Izod shirts in every color, flipping the collars, and hanging out at the mall.
Where are you, Julie R? Does your dad still work for Izod? How ’bout something in pink? I wear a medium!
PS For more information, read I.M. Adick, III’s editorial in the Georgetown Lampoon, and check out the t-shirt. An excerpt from “Wearing Your Collar Down is for Poor People:”
When my ancestors came over to this great country 400 years ago, they had a vision for a utopia, free from minorities, liberals, poor people, homosexuals, and immigrants. There are few today who share such lofty ideals, but we’re easy to find: Pastel polo shirts, loafers without socks, tucked-in shirts, but most importantly, collars up.