Fashion is stupid.

Welcome to America. Welcome to a country that can justify spending a thousand dollars on a handbag. Welcome to a place where homeless people lie in city streets while women with four hundred dollar sunglasses step over them.

Why do people choose to spend their money this way? I just can’t wrap my head around it. I’m told all the time that I just “don’t get it,” but what is there to get? Why would people willingly pay 500% price markups for a brand name? Why purposely spend far more money than you have to for the same shit from a different designer?

There’s the matter of what’s “in” this season. Now, who the fuck decides that? Clearly, for something to start being “in,” it at first has to be “out.” Is there a panel that sits around in a shadowy room deciding what styles are going to fucking blow everyone’s mind this fall? No matter how goofy or retarded clothes, bags, or accessories look, if they’re “in,” they’ll be bought.

Fashion people, I ask you this: How insecure are you in your life? Why do you feel you have to keep up with the latest fashions? So people will like you better? If you fall behind on the styles, will your friends start ignoring you? Will your significant others dump you? Why the constant outpour of money on useless bullshit?

Fashion is one of the most arrogant obsessions there is, as well. People who love fashion love nothing more than sitting around talking about people who don’t care about fashion. They get really excited about the one time they picked out this cute dress for so-and-so and now that person is fashionable as well.

Call it cheap. I call it economical. I’ll buy my clothes at fucking Target and be all the happier for it. I’ll have thousands of extra dollars to save for important things. You know: a house, a car. Things that aren’t stupid.

Hey, it’s your money. Do what you want with it, by all means. But I will never, as long as I walk the Earth, even begin to understand it. Clothing was invented to serve a utilitarian purpose. They keep us warm. They keep us dry. I don’t know exactly when clothing became a comically overblown means of determining social status and rank-and-file, but you’ll never be able to convince me.