Think of your favorite cartoon character. Are you thinking of it? Does this character wear clothes? No? You’re a pervert. If you answered yes, continue on. What kind of clothes does this cartoon character wear? I mean each episode. Because a normal human being would change their clothing. But not a cartoon character. They wear the same damn clothes every damn day. Except sometimes during flashbacks or special occasions. Like that Flinstones episode where Fred had to attend Pebbles’ funeral. That was a real downer but we got to see Fred in a suit. This observation and obsession of mine has made me more aware of the clothing that actual life action humans wear. Freaky thing about this is that sometimes there are real people who dress like cartoons. People who always seem to wear the same thing every day.
(He sure seems chipper to be at his daughter’s funeral. Must have wanted a boy)
The only joke I’ve ever seen in a cartoon about this was on an episode of Doug. Doug, who always wore a green vest with a white shirt underneath, opened up his closet to reveal an entire rack full of the same outfit. In real life, few people own multiple versions of the same outfit. Or do they? I haven’t been in too many closets. That’s where monsters and homosexuals hide. My closet is full of mostly black shirts, but they’re all different. That’s more than certain people can say. People who I would like to ridicule for having inconsistent cycles of clothing wear.
I worry about stupid things. One of my big worries is that someone will notice that I’ve worn the same shirt in the same week. Luckily I don’t have enough quarters to do laundry that consistently. Phew! I also perfected the strategy of throwing on a button up shirt or sweatshirt so that nobody will see that I’m wearing the same thing as yesterday. I don’t do this often, but sometimes I do. You know, for good luck and such. If a rabbit’s foot, a horse shoe, or a coin can be lucky, surely my body odor can be too.
(Clearly the smelly men in this picture are the lucky ones. All that medical school to do this for a living)
To me, the unwritten rule of wearing clothes is don’t get caught looking dirty. Women own so many clothes that if I notice you wear the same thing a lot you’re doing something wrong. Men get a little more leniency. Don’t tell me this is a double-standard. I hate that excuse. Complaining that something is a double-standard is your way of admitting you think what you’re doing is wrong. If it didn’t bother you so much you wouldn’t be trying to justify it. So be comfortable with what a horrible person you are already.
(“If I killed only the French nobody would have minded. Such a double standard” – Charlie Chaplin lookalike winner 1938)
Pants vary from shirts with these laws. I think you can wear pants more often than you can wear a shirt. Why? Well a shirt will touch your gross disgusting body more. At least pants have your underwear to protect your fabric a bit. But the problem with pants is that you need to make sure they’re not a loud pair that you wear more than one day in a row. I know this guy, we’ll call him Sniffy because he always seems to move around a lot like a dog sniffing. He really irks me. I want to smack his nose and tell him to stop moving around. He’s way too young to give the Parkinson’s excuse. And he has neat girlish handwriting so he’s just being a nuisance to me.
(Knock it off! Find a place to shit and be done with it you grape colored dog)
Sniffy wore the same loud obnoxious cranberry colored pants three days in a row. They were the color of red velvet cake. I know I shouldn’t associate another man’s lower half with a delicious dessert, but that’s what it made me think of. What kind of man buys cranberry jeans? It’s the same shade as the rope at the movie theater and probably felt as soft. I don’t know. I’m not about to ask to rub his knees to find out. He has another pair whose color reminds me of a mermaid’s fin. They’re a very soft solid blue. My reasoning for noticing his pants so much is that I have bad eyesight and see colors stronger than anything else. I will also claim that I sit low in my chair and my eyes are around crotch level. Making eye contact is a strain on my neck. I have to keep it level. It’s not like I know the fly on each of these pants is silver-colored–
I’ve known two other people who always wore the same sweatshirt. Every day. All times of the year. The same exact outfit. Both these guys were pretty weird in general so I guess that wasn’t a concern of theirs. Even if it’s not the same shirt, you need some sort of rotation. I once kept track of a friend’s shirts and how often he would wear them. It took only about a month before I realized a pattern. Certain shirts were worn early in the week while others were purely bought for weekend purposes. He probably secretly called them his party shirts. I know I would. Super Mario fist pumping is the definition of a party.
(This should screams “I don’t live with my mother, she lives with me”)
What is your strategy to make sure you don’t wear the same thing every time you see a certain person? Please note that wearing something you don’t like that your grandmother gave you every time you see her doesn’t count. That’s not gross. That’s trying to make an old hag smile at her awful gift idea.