Because my blood
pressure has gone through the roof over the last couple weeks, I need
to calm myself down a little bit; and quite frankly, some of YOU look
like your heads are about to pop like an overripe zit, so I think
it’s time to go somewhere else for a while… relax in the hot tub…
crack a nice, home-brewed beer; maybe pass a joint around the tub…
waddaya say?
So I think I'll attack
the status quo from a different direction. I'm going to write about
something I promised myself I'd never write about... fashion. I
promise, I'll try to keep this as “manly” an approach as I can.
I’ve never really
liked shopping for clothes. When I DO buy clothes, it’s usually at
a Thrift store. That’s where I get the majority of my furniture,
too.
The main reason I shop
there is the cost… you can’t beat the prices. Often, you can
find brand-new, never-worn clothes, some of which are things that
will never go out of style. I’ve found that there are some things
that a person can wear and look just as normal 20 years in the future
as they do now; a basic “uniform,” if you will. Jeans and a
t-shirt… it’ll never go out of fashion… regular, worn jeans and
a plain, black t-shirt… no designs; no logos; maybe a pocket…
you’ll never look “out of place” in society while wearing it.
As for the jeans,
however, I find that I don’t like the pockets, so I’ve taken a
little of my own license and decided that cargo pants fit into that
category as well. I mean, we have a lot of shit to bring around with
us these days, don’t we?
We have our
cell-phones, our money, our keys, our wallets, our flash drives, our
pocket-knives, our pot and pipes, our mp3 players and the headphones
to go with them. Regular jeans can’t carry all of that shit, and I
hate having a million things hanging off my belt like some kind of
fuckin’ security guard… been there, done that.
I have my keys hanging
from my belt loop on a clip, because I know that I won’t lose them
if they’re fuckin’ ATTACHED to me and it’s easy to separate my
car key from the rest, so I don’t have all that weight hanging from
my ignition, fuckin’ it up.
As far as my cell-phone
goes, I don’t want it ANYWHERE NEAR my dick! I don’t want some
kind of fuckin’ cancer or something, and ESPECIALLY not in or near
my daddymaker! I prefer to keep my phone near my knee or
thigh.
Smokes… easy to get to in the left-thigh pocket, alongside the pipe and pot… keep all that shit together… that leaves my back pocket free for the wallet like most people. My hip pocket is for my card and cash, right next to my fuckin’ pocketknife. For times that I believe I may need a little extra protection, I keep a second, less utilitarian knife on my belt.
Smokes… easy to get to in the left-thigh pocket, alongside the pipe and pot… keep all that shit together… that leaves my back pocket free for the wallet like most people. My hip pocket is for my card and cash, right next to my fuckin’ pocketknife. For times that I believe I may need a little extra protection, I keep a second, less utilitarian knife on my belt.
There are some pants
that have more than just the standard allotment of pockets; there are
some that have pockets on top of pockets, and smaller pockets, and
loops for hammers… I LOVE those! Sometimes, you find that you need
MORE pockets, like if you’re framing or hanging drywall in the
basement, or if you have a date and you know she’ll want you to
hold her lipstick (I really don’t fuckin’ mind)… then, when she
asks for it, you can just be like “WHA-BAM!” … and then you get
a blowjob later, just for being a nice, decent guy… how do you like
that? See? Cargo pants cause blowjobs!
So, we have the
standard “uniform,” if you will… cargo pants and a black
t-shirt. Hat? Hair? Jacket? Optional... as long as I don't feel
like a walking billboard, it's all good.
I’m a fuckin’
chameleon; I blend in everywhere. I’ve been in several “scenes,”
and I can adapt and become what I need to be for any fuckin’
environment. I’ve been a goth, a punk, a headbanger, a
professional, a filthy-stinkin’-liberal, a stoner, a jock, a hippy,
a rock star, a hellbilly, an intellectual, a comedian, a comic geek,
a film snob, an art snob, a theoretical physicist, and a fashionisto.
I’ve always been what I needed to be in order to survive. Through
all of that, one thing has never changed; my shoes.
It’s true… all you
need are a good pair of Doc Martens! They’re dressy enough for
just about anything you’d want to attend; they’re comfortable
enough to spend HOURS on your feet at a time; they’re durable
enough to go through RIGOROUS use for five or more fuckin’ years;
and they come from a country we can trust to treat their workers as
good or better than many of our own!
There’s one pair of
Docs that I’ve had and worn for over 10 years! These things won’t
fuckin’ die! Another pair (my favorite one) got over five years of
daily, hard use before I had to retire them because the soles split.
A good pair of Docs
doesn’t get replaced; they get retired. It’s a fact! People
keep them like trophies and show off the scuffs and scrapes in the
impermeable leather as if they were battle scars!
“… that one? I got
kicked by a skinhead at an Agnostic Front concert! On this other
pair, you see that scuff? Deflected a hunter’s bullet while I was
hiking!”
Often, if someone owns
Doc Martens, they’ll leave their old pairs out in the open, next to
the wall; beaten and tattered; the soles worn down to nearly nothing…
they are the voices of past wars and daily abuse; they are the aging
veterans of past personal conflicts... and they are saluted in their
own way by their owners.
When wearing a good
pair of Doc Martens, every step feels like it has a PURPOSE! It
makes you feel like you have something to SAY, and you’re not going
to be QUIET about it! You FEEL like a warrior! You FEEL like a
REVOLUTIONARY!
Part of that is because
they weigh a little more than most shoes; part of it is because of
the history behind them; and part of it is because of the somewhat
militaristic appearance of their boots and shoes.
Doc Martens have been
worn in urban and suburban environments to make the statement that
“life IS a battleground, and we are all soldiers in our own way!”
There’s always at least a little bit of “rebel” in people who
wear Doc Martens. Just a little piece (or more) of the lack of
desire to conform to typical society; a rejection of the status-quo.
You may not see it at first in some people, but it’s there... trust
me.
All through the 80’s
and 90’s, Doc Martens were commonplace in the Punk movement, as
well as the resulting Goth, Industrial, and Ska movements. They’ve
had their place in the white supremacy movement and skinhead
movement, as well as their rivaled SHARPs (Skin Heads Against Racial
Prejudice) and two-tones. The determinate factor: the color of laces
used. Skinheads wore red laces, white supremacists wore white laces,
two-tones wore black and white checked laces, and SHARPs wore green
laces. Seriously, people used to get STABBED for having the wrong
color laces in the wrong crowd at concerts, in parks, or just walking
down the street.
Doc Martens were the
voice of the Punk movement in every corner of it. In many ways, they
continue to be. But as some of us who came up in those scenes have
moved away from certain fashion statements, the good Doc has been
kind enough to adapt and evolve, offering us footwear that meet the
guidelines for tasteful apparel in the workplace. Being a chameleon,
I have had to make this adaptation, myself. When I first held a
non-boot Doc Marten in my hands, I felt dirty; like I was selling
out. But the second it was on my foot, my feelings of betrayal
subsided. It had all the heft and the purpose I had grown accustomed
to; every step still felt like a stomp; but it was comfortable in
ways I had not yet seen and found a home within the confines of a
less-restrictive piece of footwear.
Hence, I've been
converted, and currently wear my newest pair as I write this now. I
still feel every bit the part of the revolutionary that I did when I
first put on a pair of Docs, and I understand and feel the devotion
that people have to their retired pairs. It’s like your first car
all over again. You love it; you want it with you till the day you
die; it’s a symbol of your independence and freedom; your first car
and your retired Docs hold the same meaning to you. The car,
however, was likely a piece of shit; whereas the Doc Martens don’t
leave oil stains on the driveway, so it’s much easier to keep them
around, reminding you of all your greatest victories, hardest-fought
battles, toughest defeats, sweetest rewards, high times, low times,
good times, hard times, and everything in between from days behind
you.
But there’s something
more to them; you KNOW everything you’ve been through, and IT IS,
after all, a war out there; it’s us against the status quo, and a
good pair of Docs are your ticket to say “FUCK YOU” to “the
man.” They’re the right tool for the job. They’re the best
way to show that you won’t bow down to the bastards that seek to
keep their boot on your neck!
All you really need in
life is a good pair of Doc Martens, and you’ll make it through just
fine!
Kind of weird when you
think about it that way, isn’t it? It’s true, though.
Sometimes, you just need that little “edge”… that little
“something” to make you feel like you have a purpose! Your
clothes CAN impact your attitude, and simply having the right shoes
to make you feel stronger can make all the difference in the world!
Things are shitty out
there… I get it… I’ve seen it… I’ve been there…
… and I’ve seen the
torture you’ve all taken… I’ve been there for it… I’ve been
through it, too…
Knowing that, I know
that we need to find a place to draw strength from and every little
fuckin’ bit helps! We need people to be STRONGER right now… we
need people to be AWAKE! That one small change, I think, would make
people feel the way the world NEEDS them to feel right now!
When average people are
stronger, the assholes who’ve placed themselves on pedestals will
easily fall from the great heights at which they sit! I had a dream
last night… a dream of what may be the future.
In the dream, I was
speaking to THRONGS of people from a stage. The people were awake.
The people were angry. The people were ready to tear the tyrants
from their positions of power. The people were ready for the changes
that we need. The people were desperate enough to do anything it
will take to get what we need!
Thousands of fists
filled the air! It was an army of Brodes. It was beautiful!
Thousands of people,
knowing they wouldn't stand for the bullshit...
Thousands of people,
speaking their minds...
Thousands of people,
finding a direction...
Thousands of people...
all of them wearing Doc Martens!
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