Out of Fashion Gripes

This, hopefully, will be the only blog in which I mention Paris Hilton. Up until a few years ago I'd never heard of the world's Bustiest Trust Baby, even after she did a TV reality show. Now her presence is as ubiquitous as palm trees in Hollywood. Because I despised the triviality she embodied in a world otherwise wrought with problems I had little patience with the mention of her name. I'd yell at my neighbors or poker buddies if they brought her up, as though they were speaking the Name That Shall Not Be Uttered.

Then I backtracked and tried to get some perspective. The media's fascination with her reminds me of the trivialities that washed across our common experiences during the 90s, when Times Were Good. Maybe this signals that we are not living in a destructive decade after all. Maybe the Iraq War, global warming, the fire-evoking drought, immigration concerns aren't really happening. Or maybe--much more likely--we are in desperate need of such idiotic diversions. In any case I thought to give the ingenue a chance. Anyone who allowed herself to be bifurcated by a spear in a horror movie at least has some sense of humor about herself. Could it be that perhaps she is an intelligent young woman who knows how to manipulate the media? Dare I hope that she devote her ample fortune and personality to philanthropic deeds, like Angelina Joie and Bono?

So I listened to a portion of an interview with Larry King, in which she announced that she had never tried drugs (despite being arrested for drunken driving, because alcohol is not a drug.) Then she claimed to be a daily Bible reader, but when asked which passage she most liked, refused to elaborate. So, in the end, she is simply a liar and a bimbo, just as I suspected. Hey, Little Rich Girl, here's a Bible book even this atheist can recommend. It's called "Ecclesiastes, and its theme is "All Is Vanity."

Then there's Ann Coulter, who is still blathering viciously with the invective of the truly demented. She represents the most vitriolically vacant of the Republican apologists. In fact, she doesn't apologize for anything anymore; even she must suspect her Commander in Chief is a moron. Wall she has left is the caustic insult, which for some reason she has been reserving mostly for John Edwards, whom she first called a faggot, and then when is wife disagreed, expressed the wish that he die at the hands of terrorists.

Here's what I have to say about Ann Coulter. To call her a RABID SCUM-SUCKING CUNT would be wildly overpraising her. The extreme distastefulness of her ongoing commentary has probably marginalized her to the point that only the most desperate Bushies will nod in tacit, if embarrassed agreement. Soon, it is hoped, her memory will be relegated to the Ash Heap of History, along with Father Coughlins and other extremist assholes and purveyors of hatred.

Finally I move, in a transitional non-sequitur, to the disappearance of socks. Yes, that famous haberdashery item that has covered men's feet for centuries is suddenly being demoted by the fashionistas. I saw an article in the L.A. Times indicating that Italian designers are suggesting that suits been worn with out socks so that bare ankles become prominently displayed. The photos of the model looked, well, ridiculous, but so do all radical fashion trends.

What am I supposed to do about this? In Los Angeles, for years, bare feet in flip-flops have been practically de rigeur, although I never bought into that style. I prefer not to have my feet sweat into shoes, and then acquire ultra-violet sunburns. Do you know that most melanomas appear in the balls of the feet? And how does one buy new shoes if one does not know whether they are going to worn with or without dress socks or athletic socks? What are the New Rules? I am just getting used to the idea that no man on the West Coast under 40 tucks his shirt into his pants. Now, are tube socks going to be another signal of incipient senescence? And what is so fucking great about ankles?