The 10 Types of People Who Hate on Your Style

Image via Complex Original

You already know this dude: only rocks Stussy and Supreme and talks about the golden era of streetwear. Even if he has a point, the simple truth is the game is ever-evolving. If he wants to continue living out a certain era, that's fine, but hating on 2014 in 2014 is the quickest way to relegate yourself to over-the-hill status. Brush dude off and keep it moving.

Yung NaCl over here treats every collection release like the fuckin' Hunger Games, and if he comes out on the losing end, don't expect for homie to acknowledge your existence for a few weeks. Even after this human saltine cracker eventually gets over it, his blood pressure will still spike anytime you rock the garment he once coveted.

Your friends who never made it out of Bumfucksville now peep your advanced style on Facebook and Instagram with pure hatred. And while they leave nasty comments or talk shit behind your back about your fancy-ass gear, just take solace in the fact that you're working on progressing to the next level while they're working on clothing their second child with their third baby's momma.

"Why do you care so much about clothes?" they'll mockingly ask you. And then they spend four hours perfecting their fantasy baseball rotation and talking about proper lawn maintenance. Some people just don't have their priorities straight.

His hate for you is mostly your fault. As you micro-manage and try to tell him how to do your job, he's of course going to grow resentful towards you and the clothes you're having altered. Even though you're paying his bills, don't pretend that getting stuck with a needle while getting fit was an accident, you dick.

Look at them over there, judging you as you peruse the goods they're peddling. When you first walked in they were friendly as shit, but now that it's obvious you're just looking, all they're hoping for is that you and your terrible 'fit exit post-haste so they can go back to smoking weed out back and pretending like they're the boss of the place.

Everytime you come home rocking your newest, freshest gear, all you get is an eye roll and more disappoinment from bae. Whatever happened to compliments? Is romance dead?

This dude is constantly scoffing at your weak bespoke game, asking "Are those button holes even functional, sir?" Shorts aren't even in his vocabulary, and don't even think of asking him if he's gonna cop the next Jordan drop. Unless, of course, you want to be laughed at as he buttons up his tweed vest and  pedals away on his pennyfarthing.

These trolls thrive off of spewing hatred, and can get incredibly nasty as long as they remain in the dark anonymity of the web. No matter how dope something looks, there's always one motherfucker who will shit all over it via his keyboard. Once exposed to the harsh light of IRL, though, their hating abilities quickly wither away and their verbal harshness become soft-spoken mumbles and mutterings. 

You think Richie McBandz knows anything about personal style and good aesthetics? Dude only cares about price tags, meaning the gaudiness levels on him are sky-rocketing. Even if you put together a dope alphet consisting of 85 percent Uniqlo purchases and 15 percent grails, this spoiled man-stain is still gonna shit all over your steeez if it doesn't hit five figures.