Clothes are the only real constant in our history. Breathing, eating, shitting and reproducing are functions, but not clothes. Their purpose is for comfort and not essential survival. However, I love clothes. We all do. They may fit you perfectly, or accentuate every flaw, but you still wouldn't leave the home without them. And lets face it, no one wants to see Granny Smith's Apples at the market, ya know? Before clothes, there were idiots. Ha, not really. It wasn't because of the lack of brain function, but it wasn't integral to their survival. But after so many cold winter's, and close calls with the bears and the balls, it just made sense... at least, i think. God could of zapped them on, or we evolved into fine leather jackets, but at some point, we covered our bodies, and as a people, we never went back. Now, you could say: 'Tribe's all over the world don't wear clothes, and they're a part of the worlds history!' and this would be true. But they're not vomit souled consumers either, and they're defiantly not reading this right now... so lets assume i have a basic idea who my audience is.
Anyway, clothes aren't the real problem here. The company's making the clothes started this, and you just keep fuckin' their wallets, fillin it with the money. At some point in our history, advertisement was born, screaming and crying, and begging for attention. Newspapers, buildings, fliers, billboards... if there was a surface big enough to hold a few words, it was bought, forcing you, me, and everyone (certain tribes and Stonehenge excluded) to view this horrible shit sack every waking moment spent in the world. And as much as i hate this bombardment of consumeristic raping... advertisement isn't the real problem here... but I'm sure you see where I'm going with this.
Clothes are something we shell our money out for, to warm and shelter our flesh, and at times to be pleasing to the eye. Ads are a company's way of getting there point or cause or product out and known to the consuming peoples, and they spend good money to get that ad space. Enter the trickiest suck job ever known:
Somewhere down the line, the clothing company's advertising department tricked us and turned us into walking advertisements. Any and every company you can think of that manufactures T-shirts, jeans, shoes, whatever, has not only convinced you, but you happily accept, to pay them to get a shirt with their name on it. To get their pants, their shoes, anything... some people have become obsessed with buying certain clothes for the name, and not the quality. And you're paying for to be this billboard asshole, walking around as a mobile and socializing ad, and you may look them in the eye for a second, but your fat 'gimme gimme' mind looks down at the words: A&E, Abercrombie, CK, Coach, DKNY, FUBU, Gucci, Haggar, JNCO, Lee, Nike, Puma, and a thousand more, and something inside you then twists towards buying, as either a need to have this, or no fucking way, but it still throws you into consumer mode. Gimme gimme. I could raid your closet and more than likely find one or ten of these. And it's fairly likely you could do the same to me, because it didn't stop at clothing companies either. As i type this, I'm wearing a collector's edition Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time T-Shirt I've had since i was twelve. It's torn to shit, faded and stretched at the neck, and for some reason i still choose to put this on over a button up shirt or even other nice plain shirts, why? cause i like Zelda, plain and fucking simple... but this is a perfect example of me (or really my parents) smiling and bending over to pay more of their hard earned money so their child can wear a shirt basically telling others: "look what i have, it's awesome, don't you want it, buy buy buy." Bands, fast food, tele-vangelists and banks. Theirs a shirt for everything now, and YOU have to pay to advertise it to the world for THEM. And whats worse, sometimes more than other's, you pay more just so the company can spend less on advertising. You have become their target and their tool. And that's what i see when i walk out the door, tools.
It's fucking disgusting, this may be a reason why i hate Living Ads, but all i have to do is walk over to the mirror, and I'm sure I'll spot one.
fuck.
Well: This concludes the reasons 'why i hate you', but make sure you check back to read the #1 reason of all. You may scratch your head over my ability to do a rational ordering system, but i saved this one for last cause it will probably piss you off. I can't wait.
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