A word about my fashion choices between you and me—honestly, I dress like a bum.
Not necessarily "Underground dweller pleasuring himself in his pants on the northbound platform of the IND Sixth Avenue Line at W. 4th Street" bum. More like the "I'm a blue collar worker who forgets he isn't a blue collar worker at ALL times, so he just wears construction Timbs, ripped pants with paint stains and a tattered shirt 24/7" bum.
Since I began my bike delivery life, my clothing diet has been a steady Ripped sweatpants and sneakers/socks with holes in them from my extreme lifestyle with sometimes unfresh, wrinkled shirts as a side dish.
Dessert has usually been un-moisturized hair. Cause you know, hair oil is useless when you're gonna get helmet hair anyways.
Of course, my maternal unit's been having issues with my attire change. "You need to wear fresher smelling clothes!" seems to be her new battle cry whenever she drops by my apartment—which, by the way, depending on whether I know people are coming in advance or not—is just as bummy.
Generally, I'll respond with a deathly, "Ah, I'll do somethingggg about it... maybe." to get back on her good side. That lie works for all of 24 hours before that phone rings and she reminds me to shape up.
But, I won't. I've taken well to my downtrodden fashion style. Dressing up is sadity as Hell. The eff I'd look like wearing a suit and tie, like I'm some wine-drinking piker waxing about The Great Gatsby days in Martha's Vineyard?
Save for the rare moments I'll bougie my style up for some occasion, I'll keep returning to bummy status, even though I just scored a full-time position at The Hudson Reporter (hit me up with story ideas for North Bergen and Secaucus at hd@hudsonreporter.com—seriously.) where the dress code is business casual, I always return to my 99% ringers after leaving the office.
And I just got some more motivation to keep going.
During a recent performance from his new album, Childish Gambino continued to prove why you can dress bummy as f**k and still have a Super Saiyan cool aura about yourself.
Look at this guy. Tacky-ass pants and bare feet on stage. And rather than run from it, he OWNS it. It's like he's telling the audience, "I have a massive case of dadbod at 33, with no sense of millennial trends or shoes and I can STILL make any women in this audience want me if I wanted."
Umph! How do you deal with such confidence? This is the same guy who freestyled in granny clothes, never wears deodorant or when he wears shoes, no socks. And he makes it all look epic.
Props for the inspiration, Donald.
