Batman and Spiderman rejoice! Someone’s heard your cries and complaints about the lack of superhero casual wear!
The creation of the skinny jeans means that our revered vigilantes no longer need to be bothered with the loose, unsightly bagginess of “normal” jeans.
Finally, someone’s realized that the man swinging from rooftops all night doesn’t need to be “swinging” in his pants during the day.
And there’s the added benefit of being able to blend-in with all the other civilians (and by “all other” I mean “hipsters” and by “civilians” I of course mean “ironically-dressed vegetarian art/lit students”).
I mean, really, that’s the sole use of these jeans, right? I mean, these guys walking around are all obviously headed to The Hall of Justice or the X-Mansion, right?
How else to explain such a phenomenon? With the explosion of comic book movies and TV shows, it seems natural that society would react with an explosion in jeans inspired by tightly-dressed titans like Spidey and Batman, right?
Now, before the shape-shifting Wonder Twins head out to Whole Foods and the vintage store, they can pound fists together and say, “Shape of….my sack!”–and presto!–they’re ready to roll in a pair of “painted-on” jeans.
These jeans are everywhere, and I know that I’m not the first to notice, and I know I’m not the first to comment on the “internets” about the fad, but really, this has to s-t-o-p.
This doesn’t qualify as a “style quiz” because this is a plea for help…..for sanity…for “country first”….for some !#$^&@! air.
Not too long ago, I was waited on at a restaurant by a gentleman wearing these jeans. Each time he came to our table, my view of his meat and potatoes was almost hipnotic. I felt like that kid in A Christmas Story–“You’ll shoot my eye out!”.
I also felt as if 17,000 health code violations had occurred due to his derma-tight denim.
It got to the point where I finally pulled my eyes upward and said to him, “dude, really? Banana britches?” and he pointed to his crotch with his pen and was like, “Oh him? That’s Casper; he’s observing as part of being trained to wait tables.”
I nodded and closed my menu.
“Very well then. I’ll have the pancakes, and please, no sausage.”
Like all fads though, I went through a cycle of first being curious about it, then repulsed by its popularity, to finally caving in and joining the masses.
So one fateful day I went to my local mom-and-pop vintage store–Urban Outfitters–to try on a pair of skinny jeans.
The results were, how can I say this: pretty f-cking pornographic.
Standing in the mirror looking at myself as I tried them on, I looked from front, side and back before giggling to myself and saying, “Haha, now I get it–I’m supposed to look like Beyonce!”
Make no mistake, the jeans are tight and I mean tight. They pressed my junk so far back and in I considered myself bisexual by the time I took them off.
It was like I was re-enacting the scene from Silence of the Lambs when the guy tucks his junk away and pretends he’s a woman.
When I left the dressing room, sweaty and humiliated (I am convinced that all dressing room mirrors are 2-way), the nearest UO employee asked, “how’d those work out for you, bro?”
“Besides tickling my taint they fit like a charm”, I replied.
And then I spit into his face and ran out of the store, crying, “Superman, where are you in our darkest hour??”