Yo, heavy shouts to Vice for keeping me laced with ridiculous stories to talk to you guys about. This one is about some "performance artist" wearing Abercrombie and Fitch for a year straight and putting it on Tumblr. WHO THE FUCK CARES? I know that’s what everyone sitting in front of a computer, most likely next to a cubicle that houses a real live human being wearing Abercrombie & Fitch, right this very second is thinking. I mean, she actually says, and I quote:
“In my immediate community, people no longer wear brands from middle school, but a lot of the general population seems to. And by otherwise wearing stereotypically 'alternative apparel,' I'm not only referencing suburban mall tropes, but alternative ones as well. We're all branding ourselves somehow; it's inescapable.”
BAHAHAHAHAHAH! WUT? This is why I can’t live in New York. Because “artists” trying to make grandiose statements with a fucking T-shirt live there and in order to function properly within Manhattan and Brooklyn-based societies, I would have to pretend to be nice to these people. Yes, we all brand ourselves somehow, that I’ll give you. BUT AT LEAST SOME OF US HAVE THE DECENCY TO BRAND OURSELVES AS SHALLOW MATERIALISTIC PHILISTINES AND NOT "PERFORMANCE ARTISTS”.
Unfortunately, I do gotta give Amanda Schmidt props for dropping a Tehching Hsieh reference. I was like, “Oh, he must do some sort of silly stupid art too.” And then I Googled that crazy bastard. He lives in fucking cages for a year at a time. Without even talking. Or spends a whole year in NYC avoiding buildings and shit. I dunno if that’s art, but it sure is cooler than wearing your old Abercrombie T-shirts around for a year. Can you imagine if you were this girl’s parents and you called to check in on her and she’s like, “Oh yeah, I’m engaging in art project that will span a whole year.” And you think she’s apprenticing with a master or working on restoring art at the MET before she follows up with, “Yeah, I’m pairing Abercrombie T-shirts with ‘alternative’ clothes for an entire year.” BEING A PARENT, MUCH LIKE A READER OF THE INTERNET, IS A CONSTANT EXERCISE IN BEING CONFUSED AND DISAPPOINTED.
