Dr. Thorpe: Have you ever seen "The Warriors?"
Zack: No, although just from what I know these guys would have been the first gang to get their asses kicked.
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, the friendly fisherman gang wouldn't stand a chance.
Zack: These pants make them all look like centaurs. Like their upper bodies are attached to something completely inappropriate and disproportionate.
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, I'm glad they don't cut jeans like that anymore. Can you imagine how long it would take to zip up a fly like that? You'd have to wake up fifteen minutes earlier just to compensate for extra zipping time.
Zack: Hell, you would have to put them on in a pressure chamber and if you sat down in a chair you would instantly pass out.
Dr. Thorpe: "Sorry I'm late, I hit a snag in my zipper and I had to sit on hold with technical support for half an hour." And the boss would totally understand, because it happens to everyone.
Zack: I guess these are the pants to wear if you ever have a terrible wound in your lower extremities.
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, see the guy leaning against the boat? That's about as sat-down as people get in those things. If you sit down any further, you get chopped in half by the waist.
Zack: I love their layaway program. 20 weeks and you can own this tank top!
Dr. Thorpe: Well, sometimes people with the kind of severe hernias that make pants like this necessary have a lot of medical expenses, so they can't afford to buy medical pants all at once.
Zack: Were pounds sterling worth like 100 dollars or did people just make like 50 cents a week back when this photograph was taken? A person just walking around looking for change on the sidewalk could afford to pay off one of those shirts in about two hours.
Dr. Thorpe: Maybe they don't have goodwill shops in England, so they have special clothing companies that cater to the extremely, extremely poor.
Zack: The extremely poor with dreams of forming a beach bum gang. "Oy, step off yank, these here yachts belong to the SAND DOLLARS."
Dr. Thorpe: Everyone needs something to work toward, even the ridiculously destitute. "Two more weeks, man, and these pants are mine, then I can just cut loose and live like a king without all these fuckin' payments chippin' away at me. I'm gonna have an extra egg at breakfast every day, just you wait."
Zack: "It's going to be great. I'll be able to afford to put a piece of hard candy on layaway."
Dr. Thorpe: "I might even pick up that lemon I had my eye on at the rent-to-own shop."
Zack: If you're so poor you need to put a tank top on layaway you might as well be fashioning your own clothing out of animal hides. Of course that would mean poaching the queen's deer and no one wants a run-in with the Sheriff of Nottingham Beach.
Dr. Thorpe: It would be fun to hang out with these guys, because to them a ten dollar bill is like a suitcase full of money. "Holy shit, put that thing away! Where'd you get that? Do you work for the mob?"
Zack: "A whole pizza? Did you win the lottery or something?"
Dr. Thorpe: "Did you hear about Tom? He robbed a bank, and the cops caught him when he got too audacious and walked into Sears and bought a shoe. With cash."
Zack: "I wish I could throw around that kind of money. I refinanced my socks in the hopes of having enough money to buy a head of cabbage."
Dr. Thorpe: "With shoelace prices like these, how will I ever afford to put my kids through puberty?"
You can realize that you’ve wasted the last few moments of youth at an occupation you hate or fool yourself into a numb compliance with one of these great excuses.
You've heard of #BlackLivesMatter and #AllLivesMatter, but the ancient voice of a mountain offers us the hardest truth of all: #NoLivesMatter. And also some opinions about immigrants.
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.