Dear H*t T*pic Guy
Dear H*t T*pic Guy:
I realize that the point of your store and over all attire is to attract attention. I also realize that, in the name of [mass] creativity, your clothing and hairstyle choices may not be what 'average' moms like me may like. In fact, as you have accepted the role of Creative, Defiant, Puberty Stricken Rebel, this may well be the point.
However...
There are a few things you really need to know. Please heed the following:
1. Unless you plan to work at H*t T*pic for years to come, or are just waiting for that Record Deal with Emo/Crunk/Wannabeez, your look will need to change.
2. You will reach an age where working at H*t T*pic will be a detriment to your reputation, as you will become The Creepy Guy. That title isn't as far off as you think.
3. Girls' jeans belong on girls, not on s*xually confused teenage boys.
4. When adults encounter you in public, they should not feel like dirty p*rverts. You will [hopefully] understand this soon. Preferably before you become The Creepy Guy at work.
5. If, upon seeing you, a seven year old is forced to blurt out, "Oh, come ON! Nobody needs to see that!", it's a sure sign that your attire needs to be reconsidered. Those girl jeans you were wearing were an atrocity.
6. In the name of all that is good and right, please comb your hair out of your eyes. Then call your mom and tell her.
I have no doubt that would make her very, very happy indeed.
I realize that the point of your store and over all attire is to attract attention. I also realize that, in the name of [mass] creativity, your clothing and hairstyle choices may not be what 'average' moms like me may like. In fact, as you have accepted the role of Creative, Defiant, Puberty Stricken Rebel, this may well be the point.
However...
There are a few things you really need to know. Please heed the following:
1. Unless you plan to work at H*t T*pic for years to come, or are just waiting for that Record Deal with Emo/Crunk/Wannabeez, your look will need to change.
2. You will reach an age where working at H*t T*pic will be a detriment to your reputation, as you will become The Creepy Guy. That title isn't as far off as you think.
3. Girls' jeans belong on girls, not on s*xually confused teenage boys.
4. When adults encounter you in public, they should not feel like dirty p*rverts. You will [hopefully] understand this soon. Preferably before you become The Creepy Guy at work.
5. If, upon seeing you, a seven year old is forced to blurt out, "Oh, come ON! Nobody needs to see that!", it's a sure sign that your attire needs to be reconsidered. Those girl jeans you were wearing were an atrocity.
6. In the name of all that is good and right, please comb your hair out of your eyes. Then call your mom and tell her.
I have no doubt that would make her very, very happy indeed.
Labels: Open letters
posted by rennratt at 4:06 AM
14 Comments:
LOL -- I am seeing this more and more and I KNOW it is an age thing -- I am older therefore I gag at the sight of certain things and although I TRY not to judge, I really don't need to see your jeans waistband at your knees and your pretty little underwear hanging...........it is disgusting. May be the "style" but still....
HA!! I'm not even a parent and I love this post! What about the dude with all the piercings as well? When did I become a crabby old guy?
Dear Really Unhip Mom person,
Apparently you have no clue how tragic and hip and full of angst I am. My hair is in my face so people can't see the constellation of zits I own. No one understands me, NO ONE! (slams door)
Dear Child of Really Unhip Mom person,
I was a teenager once, you know. You aint' all that. Now get out here and set the table.
This rant begged for the inclusion of a picture. But usually my mind's eye can provide an image.
Life is so very,very serious, you know, like with death and everything, you know.
Everyone has to learn to change that look eventually.
I would TOTALLY dress in black and have multiple piercings and wear fish-nets and army boots and have blue hair and wear 20 pounds of eyeliner.
Um, yeah, if I was not pushing 34.
I usually give those emo kids a break because I SOOOOO wish I could be one of them. But when they start to look 25 or so, I want to just tell them - dude... time to grow up and join corporate America, my friend.
Instead I shop at K*hls.
Oh well
Y'all:
I actually love the Emo look. Or most of it. I simply took issue that 1)he was wearing GIRLS JEANS 2) they were low riders 3)they were FAR TOO SMALL.
Sorry, but I draw the line at seeing the outline of a guy's...uh...STUFF.
Also? He was standing in the middle of the mall. While I confess to entering the HT from time to time (for crank co-worker gifts), I wouldn't dream of taking my kid in there.
I have NO clue about it. Must be at the mall - where I seldom go....LOL
LOL, That look on teens is acceptable as a rebellious phase, but if it lasts into adulthood then as you said welcome to "creepy guy" classification. Not a good place to be.
yeah the emo look is a cry for attention.
It's a mixed signal of "look at me!/ don't look at me!".
My daughters are friends with a couple of emo boys who sound like they could be twins with this hot topic kid.
Let me assure you, for all their bravado and the "in your face" attire, they're actually very nice boys and very respectful to me.
I'm glad I'm 42...that's all I'm saying...LOL...(Not that I ever dressed to shock or make statements...)
I've seen this guy. No. 2 is exactly what I think as well.
Omg!!! I accidentally wandered into an Abercrombie store once.
The operative word here is once.
In the span of an eight inch threshold I aged exactly 350 years.
And I still can't figure out how a clothing store needs ads with naked people to sell clothes...
Anywho. The kids in my sons school try to do the whole clean emo look, and end up just looking dorky. LOL.
Thank goodness, I thought it was just me feeling old and tired when I see one of those kids. Someday I'm going to get up the nerve to approach one of them and ask, "Why is it so critical to communicate your displeasure with the world at large?"
I'm with you. Ugh.
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