The Fashion Gene is Real

fashion gene

When I was growing up, I decided very early I wanted to be a fashion buyer. I lived just outside of Columbus, home of world-famous brands such as Express, Abercrombie and Fitch and Victoria’s Secret. I had the best of both worlds, I could live in the Midwest and have a ton of career options.

B.C. (Before Children)

I drove my parents crazy with the fashion I felt I needed. I would go on shopping sprees with my father twice a year and come home with a brand new wardrobe. Once I graduated with a Fashion Merchandising degree, I had my first job as a new store coordinator for Express. Did I mention access to 40% off and semi-annual sample sales? I once picked up 13 leather jackets for a meager $75.

A.C. (After Children)

After children, I could still afford my fashion and kept up with it regularly. Womens Wear Daily was read every morning. My children didn’t care their shoes came from Payless or their entire wardrobe was from Old Navy. Not to mention doting grandparents, always giving them new clothes. I could still afford my fashion.

Once middle school happened, P (my 12-year-old) suddenly needed to be on trend, at all times. During 6th grade last year, he was interested in Under Armour which was marginally more affordable than Nike. I could hit up the outlet mall 30 miles away and find some good deals for him.

Then 7th grade happened and holy fuck. It’s like this fashion gene has been dormant in his body until now. I imagine it jumping out of a cake saying,

“TA-DA BITCHES! LET THE SPENDING BEGIN”

I don’t think I realized how serious it was until P began to tell me about the brand Supreme. So the story behind it (according to P) is each line “drops” on Thursday, it sells out in minutes then you find the price jacked up on Ebay and morons buy it. Do I sound like a parent yet? Great, lets keep going.

He even recognizes luxury brand logos. We were in BW3’s yesterday, picking up our takeout when he leans over and whispers,

“That guy over there has a Gucci belt on.”

I look over to find a 6 foot, 89 pound thug in a tank top (it’s December in Ohio) and baggie jeans with a faux Gucci belt holding them up.

“That’s fake,” I assured him. Not because of my preconceived notion but because the “gold” was pealing off of the belt buckle.

Tonight I walk into his room and find him on his Chromebook.

“What cha’ doin’?” I ask.

He takes his headphones off. “I’m just watchin’ this famous YouTuber. He’s showing his line. It has Louis Vuitton and Gucci in it.

People, why am I having these conversations with my son? How does he know about Louis Vuitton? I didn’t even know about Louis Vuitton till I was in my late teens. I mean, I’m over the moon that he doesn’t want to look like a couch potato and I love that his style is what I like to call urban sport chic but man, this is killing me.

Hobby

Oh you’ll love this, he has a new hobby. What is it? Collecting shoes. No seriously, he is beginning to collect shoes. I collected stamps at his age. For Christmas he wants drop-front boxes.

“What the fuck are drop-front boxes Hot Mess?” 

Excellent question gentle reader. It’s display cabinets for your shoes. I shit you not. He wants display cabinets…for his shoes. Here you go:

drop front  boxes

I rarely buy clothing for myself anymore and I miss it greatly. I keep classic items and “get creative” with them until they have holes. I don’t feel I’m out of style but I certainly couldn’t tell you what the trends are these days. I guess I’ll defer to my son on that.

 

 

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