Battleangel

You know, I have this friend who sees himself as a real fashion buff. He would probably want to remain anonymous in this context. Hehe.
Anyway, a couple of years ago he started drifting towards the urban style of fashion. Whatever that means in real terms. Definitions like these are rarely useful to anyone outside of the group because they are so fleeting. The same is true for many anthropological phenomena of course, like language and culture.

Dang. This just keeps reminding me of the Peterman catalogue. The way it always seemed to bring really awkward pieces of clothing back from the far corners of the world and market them as urban fashion. Thus the urban sombrero. Ideal for quick naps at the office also. Of course completely useless in any environment. So here’s to the Bavarian moccasin.

I’d been walking for hours in the misty moonlight, threefold nearly lost to the perils of the path beneath me. And there, behold, the prize. Somewhere amidst the foothills of the Andes, concealed from the civilized world, dwelled the unsung Urbanborazo tribe. It was here in uncharted territory that I learned the secrets of the Bavarian moccasins. My lifelong companions since. Sizes seven-and-a-half through eleven-and-a-half. Color alabaster. Price seventy-five dollars.

Something like that anyway.