Miss Pop Rocks: American Apparel -- The Units Of Our Day
Could a young, twentysomething hipster please explain to this 32-year-old crotchety senior citizen what exactly is American Apparel's appeal, puhlease?
My problems with the chain of clothing stores are many.
First of all, Dov Charney, American Apparel's CEO, is a known perv who once masturbated in front of a reporter. And while his clothing may be sweatshop-free, it is certainly sold on the backs of soft-core porn stars. (Is it just me, or do the kids in the American Apparel ads look like they need a vitamin shot or Chlamydia screening or something?)
Second of all, business-wise they are morons by using an unauthorized photo of Woody Allen in their ad campaign and then having to pay him bajillions.
But mostly I do not get American Apparel because of its clothing. It's like Flashdance barfed inside that store. Leggings, tunics, rompers, bodysuits. Who wears this shit?
You know what American Apparel reminds me of? Units. You see, I'm old enough to remember this little `80s store called Units which operated on the principle that you could get one tube of cotton and wear it as a dress, belt, headband, jockstrap, whatever. I suppose when I was 14 and dumb, I thought it was cool, just like these 19-year-old Montrose hipsters think American Apparel is cool now. But it's not. It's dumb. Units was dumb and American Apparel is dumb. It's cheap cotton fabric that you drape on yourself, and unless you're seriously underweight, you are going to look bunched up and uncomfortable and ugly as homemade sin.
Seriously. Trust me. I didn't look cool when I wore pink leggings and a sky blue shirt with puffy clouds painted on it, and you don't look cool wearing a tie-dye cotton spandex short unitard.
The `80s are dead, people! Dead, dead, dead. Unless you're showing me Repo Man or a totally kissable pic of Ralph Macchio, I don't need to be reminded of that decade. Take that crap off and put on some jeans and a T-shirt. Please.