Last weekend I had a work function that involved several beverages on a Sunday night. We had a fairly quiet sit down dinner that finished relatively early (or relatively late for me) and a few of the younger people decided to head across the road to a pub, to carry on the celebrations.
They asked me to join them and since it has been an eon since I last went out
on the town, I decided to join them. We walked into the pub and there was no
one in there. I thought, ‘Its Sunday night. No one is going to be out on a
Sunday night’. We turned right, walked through a doorway and suddenly we were
in a night club.
I felt old. The room was filled with girls dressed like a post Mean Girls – pre
jail time Lindsay Lohan and guys that were struggling to have the right amount
of hair sticking out the front of their beanie and ensure that their jeans were
falling down just the right amount. Surely this was some sort of fancy dress
party? People couldn’t possibly WANT to dress like this?
I wonder if I was that lame when I was that age? Sure, I can understand the
desire to dress like famous music celebrities but when I was out on the town,
we had it easy. If you wanted to dress like a music celebrity, you grew your
hair long and never washed it, then put on a pair of torn jeans and a crappy
t-shirt. Just like Curt Cobain, Pearl Jam or the Chilli Peppers did. Now it
seems like it’s cool to dress like a cross between Harry Potter and Justin
Sadly, there was one thing that has not changed. Spattered throughout the mix
of the latest top 40, were songs from my era and even sadder was the fact that
everyone still knew the words. My generation suffered through the Spice Girls
& Hanson so that others wouldn’t have to. Yet the Lindsay Lohans and even
the Harry Beibers were on the dance floor screaming the words to Wannabe at
After one drink, I called it a night and went home in a state of shock. Has it
really been that long since I’ve been out? Maybe torn jeans and a crappy
t-shirt just doesn’t cut it anymore?
So this week, after being inspired by an advertisement for One Direction, I
ventured out to purchase a pair of black jeans (I actually needed a pair for
work). The lady at the jeans store brought me over a pair of ‘skinny’ jeans and
perhaps it’s because of my muscular thick thighs, but they were harder to get
on than my cycling kit and about 3 times more uncomfortable. How the hell do
people walk, never mind, skateboard in a pair of those things??
So now I am the proud owner of some black jeans. The guys at work have told me
that I need to start rolling up the legs to just above the ankles but I’m only
going one step at a time. I’ve become everything I hate.
**On a side note... When Harry Beiber goes to get a haircut, what do they ask
for?? ‘Give me a Justin Beiber or a tall guy from One Direction cut’?? Get a
styled hair cut is on my list of things to do this year and I am thinking of
going into the hair dresser and just asking for a ‘Ryan Gosling’. Is that how