Wednesday, August 12, 2009

I Blame Dov Charney.

Ever see a hipster sweat? Well, if you're interested The New York Times has a whole slide show of be-spandexed "creative types" jumping around a gym for an exercise class they call "Sweaty Sundays". Apparently they all get drunk together the night before, rally in the morning by smoking 10 cigarettes, downing some coffee, and getting geared up in Jane Fonda style Lycra numbers replete with leg warmers and sweat bands. They look like this:

I blame American Apparel founder Dov Charney for this. The cooler-than-you-kids needed somewhere to wear all of those ridiculous spandex items. It's almost like Dov should open a gym of his own. He can schedule all kinds of dancersize classes and then tell the ugly kids to go home.

Oh, and apparently all of this exercising is blasphemy for these hipsters seeing as how The Times also published an article today deeming a belly bulge the latest accessory for the "coolios" of Brooklyn. Gym bodies are sooooo over now that we have a fit president, or something. I don't know. Read the article and see if it makes any sense to you.

I think it mistakenly takes boy bellies as a trend when they are actually a tale as old as time. Spare tires are allowed for boys--listen to this: According to the article potbellies are appropriate rebellious physical manifestations of the backlash against the non-attainable, ripped physiques on the covers of fitness magazines. I'd like to see someone write an article like that about women's pudge. Nope, nope, they just call us fat and endlessly hawk us cellulite creams. Thanks, guys. Stay cool. Stay chubby. We'll just be over here not rebelling against cover after cover after image after video after endless image of stacked, skinny models while you stick your guts out as an acceptable fashion trend. Sure. Thanks.


Maize said...

You had me at the Beauty and the Beast hyperlink!

I seriously loved this post.

I can't imagine being hungover and having to stare at some of those colors though... I take comfort in knowing they must be in pain on many levels.

fay said...

Bellies are hot! And they feel like pillows! Who want to lay their head down on a rock hard or boney lover? Not I!