If Europe is ahead of us on the fashion curve, we have a lot to look forward to.

Now, I don’t claim to be a fashion expert. One look at my extensive collection of rubber flip-flops and you know that. And it’s not like we’re living in the fashion capital of the world. Heck, Chicago’s not even a fashion powerhouse in the States. Trends generally start on either coast and face a long, hard journey to make it to the doughy center of the country.

Case in point: Remember when legwarmers made a brief and ill-fated comeback in 2004? (Cue blank stares and confused silence from the five guys who read this thing.) Well, they did, generally paired with flip-flops and jean skirts. And while they may have gained popularity along the eastern and western seaboard, the trend kind of petered out by the time it reached the Midwest. There’s just a lot of middle America to cover.

That’s not to say you won’t see some of these trends around this great city. They’re starting to pop up on the fashion periphery—both that incredibly savvy girl on the el you really don’t want to stand next to given your current outfit and the ironically mustachioed hipster sipping his Colt 45. But these trends were everywhere in Italy. From the fashionable Florence native to the father of 3 on holiday from France. These are trends that have made it mainstream in Europe, and by all calculations, they’ll be working their way through the Midwest in another 12-18 months. So get excited.

Jorts.
A mere five years after everyone at Illinois joined that Facebook group pledging their undying and ironic love for jorts, jean shorts are back with a vengeance. And they seem to be targeting dudes. The jorts we saw weren’t just the carpenter-style jean shorts we all know and love from 1997. (Remind me why we needed need hammer loops on all of our shorts again? We’re like the least handy generation ever.) These were straight up hipster jeans chopped at the knee or—in some extreme cases of man thigh—above the knee. Some rivaled bike shorts in both length and snugness. It was a lot to see.

Mullets and their less overtly trashy counterpart, the rattail.
There was a lot of business in the front, party in the back walking around the other side of the pond. And yeah, you still see a lot of American mullets at NASCAR events and White Sox games (zing.), but over there, they were everywhere doing everything. Sipping Chianti on the town square. Admiring art in the Uffizi. Touring the Vatican. They weren’t driving around in an El Camino or guzzling cans of Busch at a monster truck rally. These mullets were cultured.

Rattails also appear to be making a strong comeback. You know, for when a mullet is just too obvious.

Genie pants.
They’re like gauchos, but they taper. I imagine they’re extremely comfortable (because seriously, gauchos were almost as comfortable as not wearing pants at all), but I also imagine they’re even less flattering. I mean, look at M.C. Hammer circa 1992. He could have had a great figure, but no one ever looked at him and said, "look at the legs on that guy." Those pants just didn't do him any favors.

They're also called harem pants. Now why in the world would you want to wear anything named after the room where polygynous women hang out?

The Summer of George: a progress report

Seeing as how it’s mid(ish)-July, I figured I’d take a moment to reflect on my Summer of George list of things to accomplish before fall. Like George, my summer hasn’t exactly gone as planned. For one, my freelance project hasn’t ended yet, which I am not complaining about because freelance is a very good thing. Paychecks don't suck, either.

But before we go any further, I have to say there's a cruise boat in Chicago named The Summer of George. I stumbled upon it while I was Googling pictures of Costanza. And though I don’t know who the owner is, sir (Captain?), I’d like to shake your hand.

Now back to it. My Summer of George: mid-summer check in.

I will decompress. Check.
That family vacation I mentioned? Nothing but winery tours and playing on the beach with a three-year-old. Heaven on earth in Michigan.

I will read a book, from beginning to end, in that order. Check.
I’m currently working my way through large stack of books courtesy of Amazon. And I’ve learned a lot. Mainly that I need to be more discerning when ordering books from Amazon. Also, if returning an online order is any more difficult than just dropping off the box at your nearest UPS location (thanks for facilitating my laziness, Zappos.), I probably won’t complete the return and will end up leaving a box of unwanted books on the floor of my car for what I'm guessing will be the rest of the Nissan's life.

I also said I’d write more. Check. I wrote one entry in May and two in June. Progress, people.

I will not, however, learn to play frolf. Check.
Not only have I actively avoided Frisbees, but I’ve also spared myself from watching much golf on tv, save for any Sunday afternoons spent in the presence of my father or my great uncle.

I will watch television programming. Check.
It may not be daytime tv, but you best believe I’ve set aside some time to watch crap tv. BTW, the season premiere of Teen Mom debuts at 9 pm on MTV. Tegan and I have a countdown.

I will take mid-morning naps. Sadly, no check.
This is where freelance really cramps my style.

I will get a bike. No check.
However, I’m still talking about getting a bike. And that’s half the battle.

I will get my brakes fixed. CHECK.
It’s nice to slow down for a stop sign without hearing that metal-on-metal scraping sound that makes every dog in the city whimper. It’s also nice to approach a red light without fear of smashing into anything.

I will go to Cubs games on days other than the weekend. No check.
I should probably get on that before Lou calls it quits. He's probably got at least one good base-throwing episode left in him. Right?

I will get a tan. Check.
By most people’s standards, maybe not, but for me, I’m pretty tan. Or, you know, freckled. It only took one awful sunburn (the kind that makes strangers point and stare in horror) and a full 10 days of walking around Italy.

I will act like my college self. Check.
Although I have to wonder: at what point do I have to accept that this isn’t my college self, this is just how I act?

I will go to Italy. Check.
I went, I saw, I somehow managed not to pack on 20 pounds during my 10-day holiday. And that wasn’t for lack of trying. It was a pretty steady diet of pizza, pasta and wine, complemented by gelato at least once a day. Yes, I said at least. Yes, that implies there were days where we had gelato twice. Yes, I said days as in more than one. If you judge me, then you also have to judge the guy who sat next to me on the train to Rome because he was up to three gelatos a day. I mean, sure, he was the 250 pound, 6’5” linebacker type. But whatever. The man had gelato three times in one day.

Oh, we saw a lot of culturally significant things, too. It wasn’t all about the gelato. Really.


So all in all, I'd say I'm doing pretty well. Just a few more things to knock-out before Labor Day. Like maybe figuring out how to nap at work. After all, this is a list inspired by George Costanza.