I think I share the feelings of American parents, educators, and adults everywhere by saying, "Justin, we don't get it. We can't get it. We refuse to get it. Pull up your pants, you putz."
This whole sagging pants business bugs me, and I am by no means a prude. As I've made clear in my two previous posts, underwear is my turn-on, but let's be clear - I like to see men in their underwear, not boys. I don't have any aversion to the male form: I've been to Europe. I've visited bath houses. I have a thing for tattoos and scars. I can appreciate all manner of build. And I've done things that most people would definitely raise an eyebrow to.
But pederasty isn't my style.
My two sons, ages 17 and 18, are classic examples of this "I See London, I See France" fashion trend. (I should probably clarify that they aren't my sons. They're rent-a-kids, exchange students that Tom and I have brought into our home for a school year. This is something we've actually been doing for eight years now - we have a great time every year with the teenagers, both female and male, who have lived with us, and we've gotten a pretty good lesson in the "global village concept" to boot.) All of the boys we've hosted have been followers of the practice except one, and we never get used to it.
Every year we think it'll be different, but no go. They arrive in the airport with pants around their knees, and they leave the airport with pants around their knees despite our best efforts.
Perhaps I'm nitpicking, but one of the disparities of the whole "let me show you the briefs/boxer briefs/boxers I'm wearing" fashion statement is that these same kids refuse, absolutely refuse to wear Speedos. (I'm a fan of Speedos, too, but we'll address that in a future post.) I can't wrap my head around this logic: "Sure, I'll let you get a glimpse of my crotch fly or even lower, let you see the hairline of my manscaping routine (another future post), but don't ask me to wear something that's form fitting, that's acceptable, and which is normal for where I'm from."
Doesn't make sense.
It would be different if they didn't, but these are the same kids who actually bring Speedos with them for their stay. But do they wear them? No. Why bring them then? Board shorts are all the rage, I'm told, for European males under the age of thirty. Erik, from Germany, even went so far as to tell me that his father still wears a Speedo when he goes to the beach or pool, but he (Erik) wouldn't be caught dead in one or be seen around his father if he's wearing his: "Only old people wear them." (We even had one student that went so far as to wear a Speedo under his board shorts, so as to still have the whole "underwear is showing" look while on vacation.)
Because I was a swimmer, I took his comment with a bit of pique and proudly informed him that not only do I own and wear a Speedo, I have a sunga and Speedo trunks as well. In fact, none of my swim wear can be considered a normal swim trunk. And because I happened to take his comment so personally, I asked, "If you're not willing to strip down to Speedos, why are you willing to show practically the same thing when you're fully clothed? Why do 'old people' want to see your business hanging out over the belt line of your pants, then?" (And, like teenagers everywhere, I got a snort of derision and a monosyllabic mumble as a reply, because obviously, Tom and I just don't get it.)
Apparently. It's become a running joke to tell the boys to pull their pants up. They figure us out pretty early (I think it's part of the overlap in year-to-year communication - last year's kids rat us out to next year's kids, letting them know what they can get away with and what behaviors and patterns work here), and it doesn't take long for them to start pulling their shirts down instead of pulling their pants up. This fashion rebellion runs over into everything - school (and our principal, gotta love him, keeps trying to drive the point home that he, the school counselor, and the rest of the faculty don't want to see the waistband either), family functions (where admittedly, the idea of having a European present is a bit of an attention-getter, especially to nieces coming of age), and even prom, when we explain how a tuxedo works and fits. (The same student that did the Speedo/board shorts arrangement complained that his tuxedo pants didn't fit because they felt funny. Exasperated, I snapped, "It's because they're on your waist!")
There's an axiom that states 99.9% of European men are highly attractive. We have our fair share of great-looking guys (and even more "uggos," to borrow a technical term from Friends), but even when I go to a bar, I don't see men in their twenties and thirties with their pants around their knees and ankles. (That usually comes later ... duh.) I have met some extremely attractive men from Europe, and I dare say that as our boys grow older and mature, they will fit into that category with no issues whatsoever. But these great looking guys from Europe wear their pants where they belong, so I have to wonder if Erik and Dávid will continue to belt their pants around their thighs as they move through bar hopping, bed hopping, marriage and kids.
Like all fashion trends that go the way of the dinosaur, I suppose they'll look back on the numerous photos documenting their choices (thank you, Facebook; thank you, Internet) and groan, "What was I thinking? Why on Earth did I ever listen to Justin Bieber?" Kids never listen. We didn't either, when our parents wanted to know why we were wearing T-shirts under a sport coat; why guys were piercing their ears; when we sported our "Flock of Seagulls" haircuts; or when gauze pants were all the rage.
Some things are just basic information. I knew when I was 17, as I know now, that my undershorts belong under my pants, not on top of them ...
... that is, if I choose to wear any at all.
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