Hello. My nom de plume is Bauce Sauce and I am 27 years old. I am from South Carolina. I have a two-year-old daughter and have been married for four years. My wardrobe mostly consists of vintage designer clothes my stylish father has passed down to me. I've been dressing like a dad before I was a dad and before dressing like a dad was trendy. I have never owned an article of streetwear and, though I've regularly contributed to Four Pins I'm still not entirely sure what the fuck that term even means. Is it the ability to explain away looking like a Japanese tourist from a different century as you run errands? I got hired by Complex to cover SXSW this year. I had been there before. I knew that alphets are everything. EVEN MORE THAN USUAL, ALPHETS ARE EVERYTHING. You must sacrifice comfort for style. Who cares if you rupture your Achilles from walking 50 miles a day as long as your footwear is looking right? Are you chafing so bad your thighs have scabs because of your skinny jeans? If not, then kindly fuck off.

When the Internet announced the Player's Ball House Pool Party featuring Soulja Boys and Migos, I knew I had to be there. All I've ever wanted was to see Soulja Boy in person, breathe in his swag and perhaps acquire some through osmosis. Hearing "We Ready" live would certainly be icing on the cake, cake cake cake cake cake. I got dressed that morning, cobbling together a bunch of shit I threw in my oversized luggage. I knew I had to make an impression. After all, this was my first ever hip-hop pool party! It was highly likely that I would never get the opportunity again to seem cool in front of so many #influencers and youths. Abovie is a picture of me with rapper Michael Christmas at the event. That's me on the right in case you were wondering.

My Alphet:

Vintage Clemson/UGA trucker hat with decapitated bulldog mascot, price: ????

Discontinued Polo Aviators, price: $300

Wispy blonde mustache, price: Pricele$$

Hummingbird pattern dress shirt, price: $25 from Stein Mart

Future "You Deserve It" Shirt by Moneyworth, price: $20

Lucky Brand 221 Original Straight Jeans, price: $100

Sperry Top-Sider Tone Blue Leather Boat Shoe,  price: $80

"Am I normcore?” I asked myself as I looked in the mirror. "Sure. Why not?"

Emerging from my swag pupa, I was now a beautiful butterfly.

I arrived to the event hella early. There were absolutely zero signs of streetwear or hypebeasts. I started to get worried. There was a pool and a hot tub that I was sure anyone would ever get in (though I had my swim trunks tucked away in my backpack just in case). But, that would all change. After an hour or so, they appeared all at once as if the location of a surprise Supreme pop-up shop had just been tweeted.

Then. It. Happened. I gazed upon my first Hood By Air shirt IRL and I became a man. I had sucked on titties. I had sired a child. I currently pay for seven types of insurance. But on that day, I transformed from a boy into a man. I felt reborn through the redemptive powers of our one true lord and savior Nick Wooster. It was magical. I actually had a third testicle that I was unaware of, but after seeing that shit no more than five feet from me that little wrinkly mass dropped from inside my body. All my friends call me "Trifecta" now. I fucking love my new life.

This party was basically Mardi Gras, if flashing sweet titties were replaced by flashing your knowledge of obscure brands, and beads were replaced by hush-toned snarky comments from strangers. I had never felt so alive. Plenty of people had piped sweatpants, #BEENTRILL# accessories, cosmetic zippers and sneakers whose models included roman numerals I cannot decipher. None of them had hummingbirds on their shirt though. I felt validated.

PeeWee Longway had on a sweatshort set with an airbrushed scene of a Grecian war. It was absolutely bonkers. Probably the greatest alphet I'll ever witness in the flesh. From now on, I want to own nothing but airbrushed dress shirts for my 9-to-5. BTW, Lawrence, let's start that trend. This market is ripe to be cornered.

I used to fear the hypebeast, but I only feared what I did not understand. Now, I cherish my time spent amongst the hypebeast. Their existence was an anomaly to me, but I have gained an appreciation. Through assimilation, I feel like I finally understand streetwear. It's about dressing for yourself and really not giving a fuck what other people think. Also, it was about superfluously stunting on h8rz and strangers. Oh, and I think looking fly as shit when you drive up to Walgreen's for mucus medication. Granted, nobody at the event did anything but stand around checking their phone. So, maybe another tenet of streetwear is to not care about anything but looking cool in your streetwear? Though the exact definition may be transient, streetwear is something you feel—something you experience. Streetwear changed my life. I can't wait for my Hood By Air salad bowl to arrive.

Justin Roberson just hopped up out da bed and turned his swag on. He took a look in the mirror and said, "Wassup? Follow me on Twitter here."