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Newsflash, folks: The fanny pack is officially back, and whether or not you feel personally victimized by them is irrelevant. The trend has been growing for the last few years in high fashion, thanks to designers like Prada and Alexander Wang, but lately they’ve made significant headway in more affordable, mainstream fashion. So yeah, if anyone needs me, I’ll just be over here picking up the pieces of my shattered psyche.
I’ll be honest, if I had my way, fanny packs would have been laid to rest with the final episode of Beverly Hills 90210 when Donna and David got married, but the truth is that some people just want to watch the world burn and we have to live in the world the way it is, so here we are.
The fact that fanny packs are still around is about as hard for me to believe as Donna and David actually being a couple, but I digress.
If you’re a fan of the fanny (pack), my sincere apologies. I just really can’t get past the memories of every dad in the ’80s rocking the pack around the waist of their white stripe Adidas shorty shorts on family trips to the amusement park — whilst arguing with Mom about packing PB&Js instead of paying high prices for park lunches while their terrifyingly white tube socks are pulled up all the way to high Heaven.
Whoa. Sorry, I think I just blacked out a little bit.
Listen, I’m 100,000% on board with the tidy, practicality of these little guys, especially for people who need to be hands free. I mean, you can’t deny that these garish little buggers are a surprisingly convenient sidepiece, especially for moms on the go. In that regard, they’re perfect. They’re basically like Baby Bjorns for your wallet, phone, and keys. I GET IT.
But can we have a moment of real talk? They look like waist goiters. They look like one of the belt loops in your pants has an incurable infection. Like you were jumping a fence after you stole a Kit Kat from the convenience store after school in junior high, and your duffle bag got caught and ripped off so you had to walk home with the other half of it in tatters at your hip.
They’ve got metallic ones:
And ones that hold your iPhone and your water bottle:
And ones that say cool, hip things for cool, hip moms:
Okay, stop. Just stop it.
If going out in public and keeping all of your important items within a quick arm’s reach is worth looking like my dad standing at the fried dough stand at Canada’s Wonderland circa 1987, that’s up to you. It’s your life. You’re free live and die by the fanny pack if you so choose, but I’d much rather die by a nice over-the-shoulder satchel if it were up to me.
Just saying …
Would you (or do you) ever rock a fanny pack in public?
Uh oh! Please try again later.