The Untidy Germaphobe

Today in LA fashion I bring you the “Untidy Germaphobe,” as spotted on the Metro Red Line to Union Station. Yeah, yeah, I know. Criticizing fashion on the Metro is too easy, but I go with what I know.

When I first saw the “Untidy Germaphobe” sitting across from me on the train, I only noticed his surgical mask.

“He must be wearing that because of the poor air quality due to the Station Fire,” I thought to myself, smirking arrogantly at my own reflection in my iPod.

Then my eyes moved down to his hands, which were tautly sheathed in blue latex gloves, perfectly color coordinated to match his jaunty mask.

“Hmm. Germaphobe,” I nodded, feeling quite satisfied that I had him all figured out.

Glancing over one more time, I took in the rest of his ensemble, which continued to vex me for at least three more minutes, or however long it takes to get from Hollywood & Highland to Sunset & Vermont.  The gloves and the mask seemed to match a Mysophobic personality disorder sure, but what the hell was going on with the rest of his scene? First of all, his clothes and boots were visibly filthy. Not approved Germaphobe attire. Second, he smelled like he had not showered in quite some time. Definitely the type of violation that could get you kicked out of Germaphobe Camp.

Taking all of the above into consideration, I finally narrowed this guy down to one of three stereotypes, placing the most weight of course on his peculiar outfit (who wears a snow hat in LA during a heat wave?):

1. Recently discharged Vietnam War veteran

2. Construction worker from the 1950’s

3. Anti-government militia soldier

I can’t decide which one, so I’m leaving it up to you fine readers to decide. What’s this dude’s deal? Feel free to offer your own guess.

Fashion Train Wreck

Spotted this morning while waiting for the train, an Ed Hardy explosion. Here is a guy who is taking brand loyalty to the max. Wearing a baseball cap, t-shirt, flip flops and carrying a messenger bag – all Ed Hardy branded, he is clearly making a statement. And that statement must be, “Sure, I may not appear to be very cool , but look, every piece of clothing I own is Ed Hardy so how you like me now, bitch?”

Here’s a fashion tip for you brand whores:  If you just must wear an article of clothing that prominently displays the name of the designer, just wear one piece at a time, mmk?

Ok, gird your loins for snark. Fall Fashion Week is coming, and while looking around online for info I ran into this–excerpted below–which, okay, okay, is for last year–but I just couldn’t resist posting their portrait of the “fashion forward Angeleno.” Get this: “…the beautiful Angeleno cannot live without her sage green YSL bag and eco-friendly denim while jumping into her hybrid.”

Does this mean I’m marked for death without my sage green YSL bag? Boy howdy, am I bummed I’m not one of the beautiful people right now. Where’s MY hybrid?! Will they march me to the city limits if I don’t have a hybrid–perhaps even “in shades of lime, mint and Kelly green, reflecting the palette of an environmentally friendly spring season”–by fall? I, too, wish to “run errands in grey and purple wool oversized sweaters”! I want to “look no further than this season’s feminine looks to seal the perfect evening outfit to celebrate spring at celebrity and fashionista favorite hotspot, Hyde.” I know I want to “celebrate spring” at a celebutante bar, definitely. Can’t *I* “drive to the trendy shops of Robertson Boulevard, ready to pick up spring season essentials”? Essentials? I thought essentials were toilet paper, soap and DSL. OMG, color me SOOOO last season!!! [claps hands to cheeks, aghast] How could I be so…so…UNFASHIONABLE?! The horror!!!

This breezy bulls**t marketing blurbage is so awesome in all the wrong ways, I keep trying to dig up this fall’s version of the same thing, but alas, the current Fall Fashion Week website offers no gems as brilliant as this. Click thru for the full version in all its vapid glory.

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Hey you, in the pink leathered, high-heeled, high-topped Chuck Taylors.  Yes, man, I’m talking to you…Where’d you get those shoes? Are they comfy? Can you ball in them?

High-heeled Chuck Taylors