I had a conversation with my friend Michael on Saturday night...with me taking down anything in skinny jeans and ironic frames, sipping kale smoothies and $12 cruelty-free lattes.
It should be easy enough to just laugh off seeing a 24 year-old with a Smith Brothers beard and Lew Wasserman frames, weighing 68 pounds soaking wet, walking his cat on a leash while sporting a "Brooklyn: East New York" tee shirt, except if this kooky kat had actually been walking along Lefferts Avenue, the odds are slim that he would have survived the stroll unscathed.
Let me simply say, and for the record, that Sal knows from whereof he speaks.
For example, in my girlfriend's for the moment still wonderful neighborhood of Cobble Hill [Official Motto: Where All Your Shit's in Walking Distance], we are currently being overrun by hordes of Trust Fund Cyborgs and their hellspawn.
Hey, everybody's gotta be somewhere, right?
However, up the street from said girlfriend's apartment, there is a just opened clothing store that sells ironic togs for pre-K yuppie larvae. [True fact: A friend of mine overheard one of the moms in the nabe talking to her five-year-old daughter Ariadne. You heard that right -- Ariadne.]
In any case, here's the shop's current front window.
"Brooklyn is My Playground" your ass, little Bratleigh and Snotleigh.
But on closer observation, this is the one that really gets me.
Note the mannequin in the ironic Fedora, hipster shades and Strokes tee shirt.
I repeat -- a Strokes tee shirt.
And let me also simply say, and again for the record, that if I ever saw an actual kid dressed in that outfit there's no doubt in my mind that I would immediately take a hostage.