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Sometimes fashions get ripped out of our closets and fade away into the abyss of memory because they're just not cool anymore, even though they are quite practical. They work as intended. They function, but for one reason or another we all collectively decided that they'd had their shot, and it's time to put them away. Sometimes, as they ascended into the fashion afterlife, they somehow picked up an ugly stigmatization, which is like nailing the coffin shut, wrapping it in chains, and blasting it into space. If we can somehow move past the stigmas attached to some of these no-longer-cool-but-crazy-useful items, I think we'll all be much happier people. Trends like ...

Fanny Packs

I've long despised pockets. Wallets make me feel like I have a massive tumor on my ass. Keys are always molding into the most obnoxious, uncomfortable position they can be in at any given time. Modern smartphones are only getting bigger and wider, and if I wanted that in my pocket, I would carry a spatula. A book bag is a little too much for my needs ... but a fanny pack. Ho-ly shiiit -- a fanny pack would rid my pelvic area of all its encumbrances.

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We could all feel this free if only we would accept fanny packs into our hearts.

I would love to have one right now. If we were friends and you needed ChapStick -- BOOM -- it's in my fanny pack. You're welcome. Hold on; I think I've got a coupon for Golden Corral in here somewhere. Half-priced buffet if we eat before 6. You're welcome. Dude, you want a Tic Tac? Wintergreen or Fruit Adventure? You're welcome, but don't thank me -- thank the fanny pack. I'd be so goddamn cool.

The Rock in a fanny pack AND an Insane Clown Posse shirt. That's ... that's incredible.

I had a fanny pack when I was a kid. I got rid of it when I entered middle school, which is around the age when kids start asking questions like "Is that where you keep your vagina?" The biggest reason for that, I think, is that fanny packs are too practical for their own good. They're so functional, they practically sell themselves, but they're also so tragically uncool that they practically recall themselves back to the factory and their Asian sweatshop manufacturers commit seppuku for shaming the world with the uncoolness of their functionally perfect product.

It also didn't help that fanny packs were worn almost exclusively by off-duty professional wrestlers. Wrestlers aren't exactly fashion trendsetters; they tend to dress like athletic homeless people. They hit the gym, scream at a train, and then fall asleep on a brick.

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Work that fanny, Granny!

Everything that's cool today will fade into uncoolness with time, only to be brought back by some trendy, useless heiress 15 years from now. Fanny packs are about due for their resurgence, and when they return, you better damn well know that if we're hanging out and you've got the sniffles, I've got a travel pack of tissues for you. They're in my fanny pack. You're welcome.


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I played roller hockey when I was younger. I was pretty good. I also skateboarded. I was awful. Naturally, I gravitated more toward in-line skating as a preferred mode of childhood transportation. Being someone who straddled the line between the two worlds, I noticed there was a soft-spoken tension between in-line culture and skateboard culture that no amount of X-Games could ease.

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*Guitar squeal*

Back when "X-treme" sports were gaining national attention, the two sides struggled for supremacy. Roller rinks were cool, and everyone had in-line skates. At the same time, skate parks were popping up everywhere, and Tony Hawk's Pro Skater was infinitely better than most other nouns. Skateboarding won the culture war, and in-line skating faded into the realm of kitsch fads alongside slap-on bracelets and Pogs. Rollerblading became stigmatized; it was shorthand for lameness, which is sad.

So popular that we made our fingers do it, too.

There was no pressure in having to learn a trick with Rollerblades. If you were riding a skateboard around other skateboarders and wanted to feel the wrath of their dickishness, all you had to do was tell them you didn't know how to ollie or kickflip. They'd fire condescending glares at you through the shaggy, moist hair drapes covering their eyes. I couldn't skateboard just for transportation; I had to constantly be working toward becoming the next Rodney Mullen.

In-line skates were more inclusive. Everyone had them laying around somewhere in a garage or closet, and there was little competitiveness to try to do something incredible with them. They were more like bikes, in that a person could use them to go on a nice, leisurely ride, but they could also go apeshit and try to jump a neighborhood canal that has a "Beware of Alligators" sign beside it, which I actually did once.

One day, rollerblading will be in style again, and we're all going to have a ball while the skateboarders look on, wishing their irrational hatred of shoes with wheels didn't prevent them from taking part in all the fun.

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Clip-On Ties


I will never understand why clip-on ties had a stigma of lameness attached to them while traditional neckties continued on, unabated, perpetuating their bullshit antics.

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You can't even tell.

There is no practical, functional purpose of a tie, and there hasn't been one since some genius long ago made shirt buttons go all the way up. So when I create a loop that will hold my collar together, I'm creating a redundancy. It's like putting a clip on an unopened bag of chips. So, if the loop hasn't been necessary for way longer than any of us have been alive, why not eliminate it entirely? Yeah, tying the knot is a minor hurdle in life, but if we're keeping ties around purely for stylistic reasons, can't we at least get rid of the need to actually tie them at all to make a useless thing somewhat easier to manage?

The stigma of a clip-on is in the ease of it. Why does the physical action of tying a tie make it a better, more respected option? If no one can tell if it's tied or clipped, why does the way in which it's stuck to your neck matter? Let's admit that whether they be clipped or knotted by our own hands, it doesn't matter -- they're just a thing that fills in a gap between lapels. Ties are basically the fake flowers your mom keeps in a huge vase in the corner of her living room to fill up the emptiness you left behind when you went off to college.

Let's say I have two things: Thing A and Thing B. I tell you that if you use Thing A, there's a chance someone can strangle you with it. Thing B has all the benefits of Thing A, and the risk of strangulation is almost nonexistent.

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Thing A, basically.

Wouldn't you prefer Thing B? If you would, well guess what? Thing B was a clip-on tie the whole time! I'm basing this argument on the "Reasons for Use" subsection of the Wikipedia entry for clip-on ties -- a subsection that's been slapped with a "[citation needed]" tag. Apparently, clip-on ties are used by police officers and security guards so people can't choke them in a struggle. So, now I'm afraid of ties. Thanks, poorly citied Wikipedia entry.


Technically, fedoras are in style right now. Thanks to the Internet, the "fedora-wearing men's rights guy with a button-up shirt with flames on it" has become a stereotype. It's an easy set of words people in comment sections and forums can toss out to pigeonhole someone based on the nearly nothing they know about them. Maybe you've seen it encapsulated in memes like this:


It's like calling someone a hipster, but harsher and with more disdain. I've been to enough anime and comic book conventions to know that type of person is real, right down to the fedora the stereotype describes. Still, I'm on the border between knowing they're real and wanting to believe it's a straw man used to absorb blame for some of the ills of the world. Real or fake, that special breed of asshole fucked up fedoras for everyone.

Fedoras are a clothing item from a time when wearing a hat meant something. It was more than a practical way of protecting oneself against the elements -- it was the cherry on top of a well-dressed man. No dashing suit was complete without a gorgeous fedora. As fashions became less formal, some people wanted to hold on to at least one item from that golden age of looking fly as shit. Today, only two types of men can wear a fedora, or anything fedora-like, with jeans and a basic shirt and not be considered a loser: 1) grey-haired older guys who don't own a single picture of themselves where they're not in the woods, and 2) guys so impossibly handsome they have to be the result of throwing a mannequin and an issue of GQ into the teleporter from The Fly.

Or if you're the guy who created Minecraft.

The modern use of the fedora is seen as a calculated maneuver, a blatant affectation. It's the hat preferred by those who, instead of cultivating an interesting personality, would rather wear a hat. Not a hat that will give them magic powers like Mighty Max. Just kind of an old-timey hat, a gesture that's only a step away from someone incorporating tuberculosis into their style.

One day, maybe in a far-off age when we don't dress like the only place we're going is from our bed to our toilet and back, fedoras will be ripped from the clutches of whoever the hell fedora wearers actually are. But until then, it will continue to be sunny as shit, and I won't be able to protect my scorched neck with a very practical hat because people will silently wonder why I'm not wearing a button-up shirt with a giant Dragon Ball Z mural on it.


Support Luis' fight to make Pogs a thing again by following him on Twitter and Tumblr.

For more fashion statements from Cracked, check out 8 Cutting-Edge Fashions That Are Clearly Practical Jokes and 6 Popular Fashion Trends (That Killed People).

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