ehBeth wrote:good gawd, how did tucking the shirt in ever come into play
no f*ing tucking
sheesh, you non-urbanites
LOL I was reminded of this thread last night.
Out of work, I went around the corner to have a drink at the cafe. Cuppa tea, newspaper. Halfway through I was joined at my table, alas, by a couple, which was quickly joined by another couple: they were gonna have some food, see a movie. Boy and girl plus boy and girl. What the relationship was I'm not quite sure, but I'm thinking the guys might have been brothers.
OK, so the first couple was sleek. Mid-/late-thirties. Guy wears some slender black sweater, hair neatly trimmed short; girl wears one of those hip retro jackets, low-slung sexy jeans. The younger couple on the other hand was like from an 80s soap series: the sweet always-polite good girl, the just-out-of university frat-boy, I-do-something-in-IT-or-finance guy.
When the conversation got funny was when frat boy went to get the drinks and they all looked at him, standing at the bar - someone made a giggly remark about his jeans - girlfriend chimed in, like oh my god i know, I've been trying to tell him, really, but he just won't listen ... and what follows, when he gets back, is 12 minutes of good-natured, gentle ribbing of the poor guy. I mean, really! The standard-issue frat-boy shirt!
Tucked in, for chrissakes - you know, kinda carefully ballooned over the edge! Into one of those pairs of jeans that's still all up high, back pockets firmly on the up-curve of the buttocks! "But it's Diesel", he defends himself half-heartedly; yeah, but from when, his girlfriend butts in, without mercy.
I couldnt help giggling: for one, about the conversation per se, secondly about how much it reminded me of this thread, thirdly because of the guy himself, the good lad. On the second count, the charming older guy kept summarizing, kindly joking and trying to tell frat-boy about today's shirts, you know: 1) don't tuck, 2) they're tapered, 3) the collars, not like that.
But the third count was worth something too. The kid was just endearingly and wholly happy with his old-school self, completing the picture when he joyfully started humming and tapping his fingers along when, for some unfathomable reason (as if through a divine intervention to make the point), MC Hammer came along on the stereo. His eyes glinted: you could see reflected the many fun evenings he'd had at the disco with the sorority girls, confidently actually snapping his fingers to it, and shaking his hips standing on the small dancefloor, still holding a beer in his hand. Those were the times! As far as he was concerned, nothing ever needed to change.
"You were just born ten years too late!", the other woman sighed in kind mock-exasperation; and why not, Bret Easton Ellis is back in the shop windows again as well after all. And it's true, you could just imagine him wearing the same brand in twenty years time and contentedly muttering to his teenage son, "no fuss for me, I know what I like!". And his girlfriend rolling her eyes, while dressed in a complementary outfit.
In spite of my initial disgruntlement about the disturbance of my peaceful corner (which before had been shared with other grumpy newspaper-reading men), I couldn't help liking both of 'em, both these guys, both archetypes. Though I know which of the two I would like to have looked like more! ;-)
no-itsme (wearing baggy pants and a slightly too small old comfy sweater), habibi
