About a year ago I was running down 23rd Street on a cold night -- late for an ironic dinner at Olive Garden –- when the pointy toe of my boot caught the hem of my wide-legged tweed trousers. I went flying. It was a cold night so I’d had my hands buried deep down in my coat pockets. With nothing to break my fall I found myself trapped, straitjacket-like, in a prison of my own making. All I could do was turn my head to the side at the last second as I skid on my stomach across the concrete so I didn’t smash in my face.
I survived but I ended up tearing a hole in one of my pant legs which I still haven’t gotten repaired. A normal person would have put them away until they could visit a tailor, but I love them and I can’t help it. So I keep wearing my Banana Republic cashmere cardigans with those otherwise impeccably tailored Theory pants with a big ragged hole in the knee like those faded ripped jeans people used to wear to Cyndi Lauper concerts.
As I reach for them time and time again, I say to myself, “Eh, if anyone asks I’ll just tell them that it happened on the way to work today and I didn’t have time to go back and change clothes.” I do this with a lot of things. Stain on my favorite shirt? I just pretend it happened over breakfast. Missing buttons? It just popped off an hour ago -- damndest thing! I wish I could say I’m making some sort of statement but I really just hate shopping so I don’t have that many clothes and I’m too lazy to make it to the dry cleaners.
But the other day, as my mother eyed the fissure in my slacks: Inspiration! “Hey, what happened to your pants?!” Mother asked.
“Oh...uh...it’s this cool new thing that all these writers are doing,” I said. “Ripping up our tweed pants as a throwback to the 80s. I think the hipsters started it or something.”
"Really?" she said. "How cute!"
The more I think about it, the more I like this idea. I'm going to wear them around the East Village until they catch on. It'll just be a matter of time before they show up at Urban Outfitters where -- like the unlimited salad and breadsticks at the O.G. -- the douchey trends just keep coming. Say hello to the Sequin Igloo Mini and the Plaid Apron Skirt!