It is because certain people think it is, and lameness, like most of your popular pejoratives, is subjective. You can pay attention to people’s standards or you can ignore them. If you ignore it, you run the risk being judged on it by the sort of people who judge other people based on shit like this.***** It’s a chance I personally am willing to take.
Whatever floats your boat. I still have the suit/tux thing I wore to my senior prom, and I wear it whenever I have an excuse to rock formalwear. That suit kicks fucking ass.
*****Kind of makes you wonder which of us is really stuck in high school mode…
My wife will wear one of my old jackets every once in awhile. I guess it’s just a way of saying had she known me back then we probably would have gone steady. It’s really nothing more than an innocent indulgance and maybe some are reading far too much into the act.
Me, I’ve never “hated” anyone for something they wore… except for maybe a white sheet. Can’t rightly see how this comes anywhere close.
Listen, you continue to wear your highschool duds, with your uber stylish mullet, acid wash jeans, and Ratt t-shirt, and I’ll wear stuff that I bought in this decade.
That’s a shame, Mrs. Havisham: I bet you were the prettiest tool at your prom.
Surbey, one of the perks of actually getting past (not the same as merely graduating) high school is the ability to put on clothing without worry as to whether the local empty-headed snobs will give you a bad review on a pseudonymous internet message board (another benefit is no longer being one of said empty-headed snobs). Or, just maybe, she was one of the ones whom her high school is proud of, and she returns the sentiment because she views her life as a seamless whole and isn’t running away from a four-year chunk of it because of some irrational, festering sense of shame. Or maybe the jacket is her son’s, and she’s twenty years younger than she looks, which is better than any of us are doing, and therefore she can wear whatever she wants.
In my experience, it isn’t the people who remember or even sentimentalize their youthful accomplishments who are unachieving adults; it’s the ones who give up and turn their backs on them, pickling their memories in a brine of embarrassment and cynicism and thinking that that equals maturity. It doesn’t, any more than idealizing one’s younger days confers eternal youth.
Remember your youth. Remember your uninformed ideals, your green talents, your innocently-chosen friends, your callow triumphs, your unripened dreams, your surprise and indignation that you could not actually fly. Let your past be a closet and not a tomb. It’s the only thing that will allow you to remain fully human as an adult.
I worked for three years (literally) to get one of the cool jackets that the rugby team wore. We started the first women’s rugby team at our school, and had to put up with endless shit from the men’s team about how women don’t play rugby and what we were doing didn’t count. They actually CANCELLED our order for cool rugby jackets without telling us because we didn’t “deserve” them.
In my graduating year (after six seasons of playing every game and attending every practice) I finally got it. I wore it for a year. It remains the coolest jacket, ever (it is not a letter jacket, it’s a totally different style) but I still couldn’t bring myself to wear it after high school because it would have been lame.
Because that is what I wore when I was in high school in the 70’s; change that short hair to shaved head and it would still be accurate today. Never had a mulett, never wore acid wash jeans, and never heard of Ratt.
Ah, High School. Avoiding certain parts of campus (like all of the bathrooms) so that you wouldn’t get your ass kicked for walking in on a drug deal. Two armed guards patrolling the campus at all times. Talking your way out of extortion attempts from gang members. Those were the days allright. Dude, it was all about surviving that shit hole until I could get out.
By the way, I’ve pretty much worn t-shirts and 501s since I was a kid. How lame is that?
Guin, wearing your mothers high school class ring is cool. You’re welcome.
