Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Just another piece of asset to Abercrombie

I happen to think young people have pretty good BS detectors. That's why it puzzles me that they're so taken in by so much of our idiotic popular culture . . . but I guess our human need to "belong" is just that powerful.

Guess that's why so many adults are such lemmings, too.

But I will never cease to be amazed and dismayed by Catholic youth-group teens across the land decked out in -- to pick on the most flagrant offenders -- Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister garb. With a straight face and lacking the slightest sense of irony. Presumably, the kids are in youth groups because they have at least some small interest in living their lives as Catholic Christians.

Alternatively, they're there because their parents are forcing them to come. Presumably because Mom and Dad have at least some small interest in their kids living life as Catholic Christians.

So, if the kids are there because they want, on some level, to be disciples of Christ Crucified and Risen, why do they so willingly embrace what Christ would hate -- overpriced apparel sold solely on the basis of snobbery and sex? I mean, until recently, the Abercrombie catalog would have to be covered by a brown paper wrapper if it were sold at the corner Quickie Mart. (Sorry, unfortunate choice of words, considering.)

Meanwhile, Hollister -- owned by Abercrombie -- today is noted for selling such classy attire as "Bumper to Bump Her on the Threeway" T-shirts. And the website is, uh, shall we say "hormonally infused"?

St. Leo the Great, the fifth-century pope who famously turned back Attila the Hun from the gates of Rome, exhorts his flock still: “Christian, remember your dignity!” You have to wonder how a parent with enough clout to force a teen to come to youth group can't get in their kid's face with that eternal truth.

I mean, really.

I think it's because the more affluent America gets, the more schizo we get. We're culturally and morally deranged, if truth be told. Nutso. Whack. Gone. How else does one describe a people so compartmentalized that they see no disconnect between what they profess on Sunday and what they do Monday through Saturday?

The Mighty Favog does not wish to sound like a cranky old Favog here. But, alas, the Mighty Favog has been around the block a time or three. And the Mighty Favog knows that young people kind of like being treated like adults.

My children, I shall grant you your wish.

Gentlemen, do you know what most people would call a Favog-aged man who goes around in a "Grin If You're Not Wearing Any Panties" T-shirt? There are several possibilities (pick one):

* Dirty Old Man.

* Perv.

* Trashy.

* Pathetic.

* "Ohmygawd, Henry! Call the police! There's a pedophile going in there with the youth-group kids!"

And ladies, there's really only a few choice names for 40-something women dressed in an “I KNOW WHAT BOYS WANT” tee. I think you know what they are.

Outfits like Abercrombie and Hollister are marketing to you based upon one single, solitary, small part of who you are. It has you believing that infinitesimal part of your complete self is the totality of who you are.

What then do you do when you're 35? Or 45? Or 55? Or whenever the six-pack-abs and Anorexia Chic things just ain't cutting it anymore? (Age happens. So does flab.)

Who will you be then? Just asking.




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