Help! I’m fadding fast… I’ve lost the ability to keep up with current fads. It’s not uncommon in people “of a certain age.” The pharmaceutical community is sure to come up with a syndrome for it: Fad Apathy Disease (FAD), Trend Enthusiasm Deficit Disorder (TEDD), Chronic Event Attention Fatigue (CEAF). There’s sure to be an expensive pill to combat it soon, a gel or a patch of some kind.
Until then, I’ll just have to accept that I won’t be cramming into a pair of skinny jeans any time soon, which is a good thing for everyone concerned. Sure, there’s the occasional woman, pushing 45 or 50, cruising the aisles at Trader Joes’ in her skin-tight, pencil-legged pants. Yeah, not a good idea.
I can’t bring myself to wear sweaters, socks, or running shoes in the latest popular color: highlighter marker yellow, orange, or green. And dressing like a Hipster is way too much work: mismatching my shirts under retro plaid cardigans, knit cap precariously perched on the very back of my head. Hipsterwear is too much like putting on a costume.
My Fad Disinterest Syndrome (FDS) goes beyond fashion. I can’t tell which Kardasian is which, in fact, I don’t keep up with any so-called reality show. I never tap my toes to that banjo and fiddle Mumford music. When “I know… right?” made the rounds, I couldn’t, for the life of me, fit it into conversations in any natural way. It just didn’t work.
I jumped on the Fad Wagon a lot over the years, don’t get me wrong. I begged my mom for bellbottom jeans when I was in grade school. She finally took me shopping for a pair of big “elephant bells.” She bought me a Nehru shirt, too. (Not a Nehru jacket like the rest of the world, this was just a shirt: lime green with the classic Nehru collar and a plastic zipper up the front!)
I had an LED watch, “pirate-sleeved” tops, platform shoes, turquoise and puka shell necklaces, polyester everything, and the leather jacket with multiple zippers. For the Urban Cowboy craze I wore Frye boots to go with my bib overalls and Marshall Tucker on the 8-track. For the punk/new wave thing I moved onto thrift store suits with the inch-wide tie.
But I don’t have the energy anymore to follow the next fad… No. No. You go on and Snap Chat without me… I’ll be here with my Facebook waiting for flannel to come back in style.
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