Monday, September 3, 2007
While reading this article I found myself really glad to have raised a son that doesn't give a rip about fashion. He likes t-shirts, polo shirts, baseball shirt and the occasional Hawaiian shirt. He wears Dockers, cords and jeans. He loves his soft suede Addidas hiking shoes that I got for around $60. They're well made and will easily last a year. He doesn't give a damn about the price tag and, as a young man who somehow came out very sensible about money, feels that the cheaper you can get what you want, the better. Thankfully he always preferred pants that stayed up rather than wanting to expose his boxer shorts to the world.
When I was his age going to school with a bunch of bible thumpers, the way I dressed said Satan Worshipper. Not because of the bloodstains on my clothes or the animal heads I kept in my locker. Because the t-shirts I favored said things like AC/DC and Iron Maiden.
Hey, what do ya know--I still wear those! The jeans don't fit any more though. Sadly I'm twice the size of my former self. I always wore my shirts big, so those still fit. Even more sadly, I thought my once 116 pound self was fat. Honey, I did not know from fat. If I got back to weighing that much, I'm afraid I'd have to call myself "deathly sick." It ain't gonna happen. And if it did, it would just sag down to my feet. Time is a bastard.
Looking back on that mixed up undiagnosed bipolar headbanger child, I think what she really needed was some guidance and someone to listen to her. She had damn good taste in music though!
I hope that the bipolar gene never activates in my son. Seriously, the fucking thing is like a time bomb. Normally it onsets at puberty but there are things that can trigger its activation later in life. I hope for his sake he never has to find out what it's like.