Mother Please

My mum is such a drag. She literally has no concept of what’s cool these days, and she keeps trying to force her fashion sense on me. Like you can even call it fashion – I mean, when was the last time she went on Splice? We’re talking about someone who still reads print magazines – it’s so old-school, but not in an ironic way.

She says that this whole vintage shopping thing is a phase, but it’s not. The 90s will never die because they’re so lit. Mum was supposedly around for that decade – as far as I can see, the best one ever – but I can’t see any evidence of that. I mean, she’s not lit. She doesn’t even think bucket hats are cool. Bucket hats. They’re, like, the ultimate look, but she can’t see it. I guess if you were there the first time around, it might be harder to fully appreciate the reboot, but come on. We all know that the reboot is 110% cooler than the actual thing.

Speaking of boots, she tried to get me to try some on the other day – not 18-holes or anything, just some boring black leather ones that she said were ‘classic’ and ‘timeless’. She also wanted me to get this matching leather slouch bag. Buy it for me if you want, mum, but there’s no way I’m going to wear that stuff anywhere, except maybe to a funeral. She actually expects me to wear this stuff to school; can you believe it?

Finally, we were able to compromise on a brown leather slouch bag that I thought was kind of Courtney Love meets Kate Moss at Woodstock circa 1997. I didn’t even want her to buy me anything, but she wouldn’t shut up about it. Well, there was one thing I kind of actually wanted, which was a clear plastic bum bag that glows pink under blacklight. But she was all, “When are you going to be under black-lights? Are you sneaking out to go clubbing? Blah blah blah.” Mum, as if. Who even uses the word ‘clubbing’?


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