The bar we used for Cheese Club [and would happily use again!] was Sound Fix [attached to the record store on Bedford Ave] because I'm friendly with a good portion of the staff and because they serve pickletinis - a vodka martini, dirty with pickle juice and sometimes garnished with a spicy pickle. Some people are disgusted by them and my friend Todd called them a chastity belt, so I only really recommend pickletinis to people who grew up on Long Island [or any other region with a strong deli culture].
At one Cheese Club meeting, after most of the cheese was gone and I was three pickletinis in, one of my friends from one walk of life cornered two of my friends from a different social circle. The former vented heavily to the two latter, which is something that happens when you drink during the day, and the latter told me the half of it. Apparently, the former recalls being called a, "poser," in elementary school, and it had apparently been painful enough to make it into the future. I know the word was thrown around a lot when I was in fifth grade, but only really by people who wore JNCOs, and it was usually more of a tease than a spike.
In the 11 years since fifth grade, I have developed "poser" as a point of fashion. In the world after irony, wherein it's still too soon to shop at Abercrombie & Fitch as a joke [and usually too expensive to ever be funny], the mocking of full-on lifestyles - so seemlessly that it seems you're legitimately of that ilk - is the new Do. The effect is that sometimes I even think I'm very well dressed.
Even though I don't wear jeans, I really want to get a pair of JNCOs and have them tailored so they're straight leg.
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I don't know how to sew but making legs skinny only costs $10.
Please mangle those Jncos. I highly approve of this.
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