Over the past few years, an odd phenomenon has taken over Los Angeles.
Outfits no longer make sense.
People's feet are dressed for winter and their bellies are dressed for summer (yes, that's a mere 5 degree difference here in LA, but you know what I'm getting at).
I honestly hoped this would wear off over time, and as the feet got warmer and the butts got colder (and the funny tan lines became laughable come summer time), the boots would walk themselves back into the closet and save themselves for a more appropriate use.
For a brief moment I believed that by taking photographs people would see how utterly ridiculous this trend has become and the abused-and-ashamed boots could crawl back up into the bottom hem of the pant legs where they belong, finding a safe haven beneath the bottom third of a boot cut pant, relieved they no longer have to be the prime focus of a stupid outfit.
But not in LA.
The boots just keep getting bigger and furrier and more complicated until it is unclear if that's a Yeti or an urban hipster approaching until they are 6 feet away, in which case it may simply be too late.
Join us now as we take a look at about a dozen or so more examples of Ugg-wear in LA.
A photo essay of justified ridicule:
First I want to know where are all of these footless yetis living now? What do the poachers do with their bodies after severing them from their ankles?
Has anyone considered creating an organization to provide prosthetics for the poor guys?
Maybe it's just my cynicism shining through, but it seems common sense is no longer hip and has gone to the wayside. What better way to illustrate the cumulative decline in thinking than to wear an outfit that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever? I mean, at least get the Ugg flip-flop, which is more appropriate beachwear.
I am no fashion guru (and if you ever meet me you will know I'm hardly even an apprentice), but I remember hearing on some TLC makeover show that long continuous lines make your legs look longer and slimmer. I'm not sure if general logic properties apply to fashion ensembles, but I would derive from the above rule that choppy lines with chunky boots make your legs look shorter and fatter, and according to modern wisdom (Oprah), that's not desirable.
My cats have been asking me to get these. It reminds them of the toys that are attached to their cat condo and they appear to be constructed from real live bunnies, two of my cats' natural prey. (I told the cats that on principle I will not spend $200 on a pair of shoes which are host to fleas, they don't seem to understand, but they haven't had to work a day in their lives so they have no appreciation for money or what things cost these days.)
Since no one goes halfway here in Los Angeles, now there is a clamoring of urban hipsters to try to outdo each other by adding decals and patches and bling to the boots to make them "individual" and "unique." You can have them airbrushed by a company in Washington or get them with patches to represent who you are!
I apologize for the poor quality of this photo but the woman is wearing pink furry boots with a sparkly rhinestone skull and crossbones on them, which I could not let go.
And what has become of our youth? They no longer concern themselves with the everlasting perils of arch support? The $150 dead animal boot is now the workout shoe of choice for America's perkiest cheerleading squads? Honestly ladies, I don't think these boots were made for walking (or dancing/jumping/spinning), I think the greatest amount of strain they are intended for is the lazy post-surfing munchies.
These furry white things have become so prevalent in Los Angeles, that now you can get them for your (sigh) American Girl Dolls. I feel fortunate my brain didn't implode when I saw these things, though they are quite impressively similar to the boots women are wearing around here, I give the American Girl Project Runway crew some props for that.
Speaking of the children, it appears kids put these things on and turn into the animal that their feet most resemble, which must be detrimental to the development of a secure identity (isn't childhood hard enough?), and confusing for the family pets. Here we have a child who believes she is a bear.
As far as I remember (but I've only lived here for 25 years, what do I know?), Angelinos weren't so big on killing things in the name of fashion. So why is it suddenly okay to put pink sheep on the endangered species list? Have you ever seen a pink sheep? Now you know why. Its lifeless pelt is stomping around at the Grove buying Victoria's Secret sweatpants and iced blendeds at the Coffee Bean. Tell that to its orphaned pink baby lamb. Pamela Anderson sure did.