Once upon a time, about eleven years ago or so, I was invited to an ’80s party. That’s when you dress up in attire from the wonderful decade known as the 1980s. I didn’t have anything that could pass off as ‘80s, so I went to the thrift store. I found a pair of snakeskin pants for forty bucks. I bought them. I wore them to the party and received plenty of compliments (as I should have). If there was a contest, I would have won that shit. I’m not trying to brag, I’m simply trying to stress how amazing my pants were. My pants are still amazing in fact. I still have them and I rock them every so often when the situation calls for them. I wore them for Halloween this year for instance. I was an ‘80s zombie rock star.
I live in San Francisco and there’s always an occasion for wacky clothing. We have Bay to Breakers, Hardly Strictly, and random street fairs. Every true San Franciscan has some absurd clothing in their wardrobe. I have a leather trench coat, a shiny green silk shirt, and a camouflage Snuggie for instance. But my snakeskin pants are still the reigning champ of my absurd wardrobe. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
Critically Rated at 14/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young