SPOILER: I do NOT endorse physical
violence as a way of solving issues. I may (occasionally) casually or
sarcastically remark that someone needs to be taken out back and
slapped into a higher IQ, but that's largely meant to be humorously
incorrect, a substanceless taunt meant for conjuring up raised
eyebrows and surreptitiously whispered “Right on”s. Let me say
this again: I do NOT endorse physical violence as a way of solving an
issue, righting a wrong, or punishing a civil or legal offense.
Let me digress.
The neighborhood I grew up in was
hardly on the entirely wrong side of the tracks; there were far worse
places to grow up in. But we were were low-rent, blue collar, largely
uneducated, and effectively the urban equivalent of what are commonly
referred to in rural areas as “rednecks.” Bigotry was rampant.
College degrees were not. Disputes were not settled (as they are
today) with interventions, counseling, activities designed to dispel
misunderstandings, or efforts to recognize and normalize religious,
gender, racial, and sexual variations. Most disputes were settled by
what was charmingly called “a good thumping” and a bloody nose.
This is not a recommendation or a yearning for the halcyon days of
street justice as opposed to present-day processed arbitrage. This is
the way it was, bucko. You pissed someone off and if that someone was
bigger than you, you got your ass kicked after school. And you didn't
run away because it would happen the next day or the next until
“justice” was meted out. And you'd be labeled there and forever a
coward. And you certainly didn't run to the school authorities
because they offered not nearly as much understanding or solace as
the kid who wanted to thump your ass for your lunch money or didn't
like the fact that your last name ended in “O” (or in my neck of
the woods, didn't start with it). “Get out there and stand up for
yourself; it's not my job to coddle you” was a common phrase.
Thanks, Sister Angelica.
I offer these preludes as background
for the following: a perusal of my Facebook news feed reveals
(courtesy of one of my like-minded politically snarky friends) a
story about Mike Jeffries, the CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch, who said
in an interview with Salon.com:
“In every school there are the
cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids [ . .
. ] Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive
all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of
people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are
we exclusionary? Absolutely."1
Where did I find the pointer to this
article? On a blog site called
“peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.com”.
A bit extravagant of a name, but it does leave little to the
imagination. Except of course, pondering which individuals (or
groups) the web site owner finds worthy of violence to the neck. And
judging from Mr. Jeffries' quote, he sounds like someone whom the web
site owner might find a worthy candidate for inclusion.
To the point. This is actually not
about using violence as a way to change a person's opinions. It
is partially about thinking about briefly and shamefacedly, as
Sister Angelica loved to growl, “wiping that smarmy-assed smile
right off of your face.” (“Wiping” meant “smacking.” Which,
if you think about it, a smack is really just an aggravated form of a
wipe.) And she did, on many occasions. And back in those days of
accepted corporal punishment nary a smarmy-assed smile stayed on any
face when Angelica's arm swung. You could almost see the once-grins
flying across the room, hit the wall with a resounding splat, and
gloopily slide down to greasy ignominy.
I offer this visual aid:
Yep, this is Mike Jeffries, CEO of
Abercrombie & Fitch. He must, since he owns the joint, consider
himself one of the “cool,” “attractive All-American” kids.
Seriously. Perfect bright white teeth. Pretty slender. Yuppie/yacht
club shirt. I'm not getting the white wisp of hair in front...
highlighting? And there's something about those eyebrows that just
makes my basic humanness squirm with a creepiness reserved for the
guy on the bus wearing the sunglasses and raincoat.
But there I go. Jeepers. Judging by
appearance. Sorry, Jeffries. That was kinda rude. Not very vicious,
though. See, I referred only to you, not to an entire section of
humanity. A section of humanity that, for various reasons, can't fit
into your effete line of clothing. I've spent some time looking at
this line of body wear, and for the life of me, I see absolutely no
outstanding reason why I'd spend a buncha money to adorn my (in my
twisted imagination) godlike form with any of these clothes. There's
nothing exceptional there. Nothing new. Nothing landmark. Some of it
actually looks already worn, washed, and ironed. There are parents
across the globe who can provide that look.
So what is Jeffries selling?
Not just clothes. He's selling social
stigma. He's selling elitism. He's selling hate.
Think about the sadness of the man's
situation. Not only is he offended by the sight of people who do not
fit his ideal physiognomy, but he openly and aggressively uses his
multi-million (billion??) dollar company to wage a campaign of
discrimination. In effect he tells us that folks who cannot fit into
his clothes are not cool, are not worthy of having cool friends, are
not special enough or good-looking enough to be graced with his ware.
They are the unsightly, the shlubs, the embarrassments of the
species. But don't take my word for it. Here's more from the same
article:
"He doesn't want larger people shopping in his store, he
wants thin and beautiful people," [Robin] Lewis told Business
Insider. "He doesn't want his core customers to see people who
aren't as hot as them wearing his clothing. People who wear his
clothing should feel like they're one of the 'cool kids.'"
(...)
We asked the company why it doesn't offer larger sizes for women.
A spokeswoman told us that Abercrombie wasn't available to provide a
comment.
In a 2006 interview with Salon, Jeffries himself said that his
business was built around sex appeal.
“It’s almost everything. That’s why we hire good-looking
people in our stores. Because good-looking people attract other
good-looking people, and we want to market to cool, good-looking
people. We don’t market to anyone other than that,”Jeffries said.
Jeffries also told Salon that he wasn't bothered by excluding some
customers.
Plus-size people, stay away.
Exquisitely curvaceous ladies, seek your sartorial needs elsewhere.
Gentlemen of increased abdominal status . . . fuck off. You are not
wanted, not appreciated, not considered worthy of even the barest
whit of human dignity.
See? Now this is the guy my gut (in a
Pavlovian response instilled from twelve years of Catholic school)
instantly wants to smack silly. Yes, I know, and I truly believe it:
violence doesn't solve anything. But this is not a reaction designed
to solve. This is a reaction designed to respond to a pathetically
sad son of a bitch with issues so colossal they blot out the sun,
whose entire psyche is so deeply entrenched in fear and loathing, who
is a slave of and paralyzed by his fear of ostracism, who uses
sexuality as a rubric for social fitness, who is incapable of even
the barest amount of sympathy for anyone or anything. Who possesses
an intellect that is capable of knowing better. What a douchebag.
(Granted, the issue of his absurd
line of clothing is, next to world hunger, Fox News fans, and
hydrofracking, pretty small apples. Clothes are clothes, and
seriously, people, after bell-bottoms and leisure suits, I think the
credibility factor of fashion is permanently stained.)
But if it starts with clothes, then
what comes next? Physical social programming? Social Darwinism?
Eugenics? It's attitudes like this that opened the door for Hitler,
Edward I of England, Andrew Jackson and others who decided to cleanse
the world of those they found unfit. Hate is hate, folks. It matters
not against who or why. It matters that it is. It matters that
people can espouse it with a smile on their face and gleam in their
eye and know . . . know with absolute certainty that they are
above reproach and beyond any repercussion. It is the curse of our
species that accountability is always the first casualty when dealing
with the affluent and paradoxically the scourge of those without
sufficient social status or economic wherewithal.
In a perfect world, the uncool, the
geeks and nerds, the outcasts, those without country club membership
cards, those of enhanced corporeality . . . they would rise en masse,
scrounge and don whatever articles of A&F clothing they could
find, dance the Time Warp and whirl like fucking dervishes in front
of the nearest A&F store until the sales assistants ran screaming
from the establishment into the nearest Walmart in desperate search
for tube tops and loose pants that showed more buttcrack than a
Chippendale dancer. But alas, our world is somewhat less than
perfect. Which is probably a good thing in its own way.
(Oh, and by the way, just so I'm not
misunderstood . . . I just want to add that I know dozens of people
who are skinny, good-looking, and kinda cool. And I have no desire
whatsoever to punch any of them them in the throat.)
1- http://www.businessinsider.com/abercrombie-wants-thin-customers-2013-5#ixzz2SiiMf12d
