Never hip. I was never gonna be hip. I knew what the labels were but I would get distracted when it was time to shop for new school clothes. My mom didn't help during the years when she would take me.
I remember going downtown getting ready for the seventh grade. Junior high. We left home with visions of button-down, oxford cloth shirts in yellow, blue and white. Oh yeah, burgundy was the big new shade that year.
Well, there it was in the boy's department- the most spectacular garment I had ever laid my eyes on. Boatneck. 3/4 sleeves. Alternating diamond shaped, woven patches about half inch in olive green and purple. Oh yeah, there was a pocket divided in two halves in a kangaroo pouch position.
What kind of idiot would settle for a burgundy button-down.
Well, that shirt didn't last the school year. Those knit diamonds didn't tolerate the laundry well. Not for long. I never got over it. This is true: it has been less than a month since I last searched eBay for "Mens 3/4 sleeve boatneck."
You've never heard me talk about a gig, have you? I've never described anything as cool. Well, maybe the other side of the pillow but you know what I mean.
This is probably starting to sound arrogant or haughty. I hope not. I've always been fascinated with the hip ones. I know the lingo. It just doesn't work for me. I feel like a fraud in the oxford shirts. I'm just not hip. Let me add that it kills me to use the word hip.
Socially awkward but I know who I am.
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