Dear People Who Have Specific And Entirely Separate Wardrobes for Vacations,
You make my brain hurt in ways it’s difficult for Michio Kaku to comprehend, and that sombitch is a theoretical physicist. He comprehends even the heat distribution theories of hot pockets. That’s fucking incredible.
The simple fact that you have your wardrobe parceled out in such a manner makes my OCD look like a minor annoyance. What you do could also be considered a warning sign of hoarding. (These two combining factors plus a physical deformity means a show on TLC, so at least you have that small comfort).
If you can’t wear around your neighborhood Wal-Mart what you wear on vacation, then it’s not fit for human eyeballs to see. That’s not setting the bar really high. If you aren’t comfortable going to Wal-Mart in it, why is it okay for Waikiki? I could wear one flip-flop, a slice of bologna, and a grass skirt made of giant dildos, and no one in Wal-Mart would even blink. But you won’t unfold your shit for less than Vail. Fuck you to death.
I know what you’re thinking here, Fuckationer, “When in Rome…”
You know what? In my entire time in Hawaii, I only saw pale sweaty white guys wearing Hawaiian print. Do true Hawaiians wear it, or even white people who live in Hawaii? Nope. Just you, douchenozzle from Milwaukee. Hawaiians dress like ordinary people, not like spray-tanned assholes.
The quickest way to tell you’re not from ’round here on the ski slopes:
- Are you in jeans and a cowboy hat?
- Are you wearing a velour sweatsuit?
- Is the date you last wore your ski suit more than 10 years prior to today?
- Can I comfortably describe what you’re wearing using the words, “overall,” “snow-verall,” or any variation therein?
Then don’t fucking wear it, lest you anger the Gods of Snow who release the Yeti during such an atrocity. Those Yeti don’t discriminate–they’ll kill us all in the most horrific manner because of your Vacation Clothes. Nobody likes a murderer.
Don’t dress like an Aborigine. Don’t wear Lederhosen. Don’t show up in Tokyo in a kimono. And, Sweet Jesus, don’t wear jorts. Even in America, they’re never ok.
I pray you, for your sanity and for my own, stop. Go to your closet. If you have a box marked Vacation Clothes, drag it to your front yard. Find anything in your home that’s flammable, set it on top, and toss a match on that ho. You’ll thank me one day, little Fuckationer.
Noa D. Gavin
What’s the worst fashion choice you’ve ever seen someone make on a vacation?