Post #1: In which I bitch about Ed Hardy

Growing up, my parents weren't exactly what you would call poor. By no means were they living off of food stamps, either. My father was an electrician who worked in the very fickle construction business in the Midwest. There were lean times. There were extensive periods of employment. We lived within our means.

 

We shopped at K-Mart.

My mother attired me in Garanimals and Traxx shoes.

Now, this being the late 70s and early 80s, the concept of designer shoes was a relatively new concept.  Nike was founded early in the 70s and, like most events in pop culture, took its time to get to the Midwest. Adidas and the other shoe companies were not as ubiquitous as they are now.

Either that or I was very oblivious to pop culture.

Regardless, my mother dressed me in sensible clothes. Traxx were among the cheapest shoes on market. That was what we could afford. There were other circumstances as well: My parents did not grow up in a society where labels were held in importance as they are now. Also, I was a little boy. I would come home with rips in my pants, not knowing how or when such rips occurred. Like all little boys, I played rough. Traxx were the logical choice.

As my sister and I got older, the concept of the designer shoe took a strangle hold onto society. My mother balked at the price of Nikes. She refused to pay the exorbitant amount that the young upstarts in Portland charged for their shoes and equated it to extortion. Finally, when my sister was "old enough" (thirteen years old) my mother agreed to buy her a pair of Nikes. If memory serves, they were a powder blue pair with a yellow swoosh. 'Twas the height of fashion, y'know.

I, on the other hand, was relegated to what my mother could find at the discount shoe store. I remember the day that we found a pair of KangaROOS that my mother agreed to buy me. Oh, was I overjoyed! Finally, I was able to have my own pair of name brand shoes!

I walked proudly into class that day, knowing that I was able to store anything that did not exceed the size of a postage stamp in the tongue of my shoes. Surely, I was going to be the coolest kid in school!
Unfortunately, the kids who wore Nike (especially those wearing Air Jordans -- screw those guys!), Reebok, Adidas and Puma all thought differently. To them, KangaROOS were the bottom of the food chain when it came to name brand shoes. Even the kids who wore New Balance and Saucony now had someone to pick on.

As the years have progressed, many of us who put so much importance on labels and name brands have since graduated to logic.  Personally, I prefer one brand over another because it either (a) looks good on me or (b) feels good on me. Sure, I have my favorite brands of shoes that I will not stray from, but I'm not emblazoning their logos on my chest to show the world that I am a walking billboard.
But, simple-minded folk are simple-minded folk wherever you go. Whether they live in Des Moines, New York or Los Angeles. Some people just like wearing what other people deem as socially acceptable.

This is where Ed Hardy fits in.

The argument can be made that when Christian Audigier first introduced his clothing line based upon the tattoo designs of Don Ed Hardy, it was considered fresh and interesting. Unfortunately, this was a very brief period in history. In the years since its introduction, the Ed Hardy line of clothes has grown to be equated with the simple-minded folks who like to go with the flow.

And, when they go with the flow, the don't go half-cocked. They go full blaze, as if they were in a rocket car speeding across the desert. These people wear their Ed Hardy apparel at the mall, the amusement park and the club. I even once witnessed a whole family wearing Ed Hardy apparel while at the Getty Museum. The wife had the complete outfit: tight jeans with the tiger on her ass; a gaudy shirt; the trucker cap titled sideways; the spiky belt with the loud belt buckle, bleach blonde hair; collagen lips; too much makeup. Their choice in clothing negated what the Getty was trying to accomplish: bringing culture to Los Angeles.

Not only do I take issue with the horrid design found on Ed Hardy clothing, I take exception to the price. That woman's whole wardrobe that day must have cost at least $500. I'm not in a position in my life to buy a t-shirt for somewhere between $100-150 ($50-75 at Marshalls! What a bargain!). Even if I were, I highly doubt that I would waste my money on what I consider gaudy. A fool and his money is soon parted and a lot of fools have a lot of money.

But, they have no taste.

They also haven't a mind of their own.

This is why Christian Audigier is laughing all the way to the bank.

And, it's not going to stop any time soon. Macy's, the department store known for its class and accessibility, now has an Ed Hardy section. Christian Audigier has more money than he knows what to do with. He's also moving into the house that Michael Jackson passed away in.  Think about it. He can afford to live in the same house that the King of Pop once rented.

Screw that dude.

Sure, choice number one was an easy target. But, I had to get it off my chest.

If you need further proof that Ed Hardy clothing is not the choice for you, check out this link.