Somewhere hidden in the depths of my father’s guest room closet is a smallish hat box, decoupaged with large purple flowers (I’ve always been crafty, not always tasteful), which contains all evidence of my teenage social life. The fact that it can be contained in a smallish box rightfully indicates that I was less than crazy. I carefully horded every movie pass, school picture, passed note and concert ticket stub with the apparent expectation that someday I would become a scrapbooking fiend. Now it is a time capsule waiting to be excavated, much to the delight of The German.
One of the artifacts most near and dear to my heart (misguidedly so) found in that box is the ticket stub to my first concert. Late in the summer after seventh grade my childhood best friend and I thought we had struck gold when her mom agreed to accompany us to our first concert, the headlining act of that year’s California Mid-State Fair: M.C. HAMMER.
Ok, stop laughing. Just for a second? It seemed really cool at the time. We had great seats, only about 10 rows back from the left wing of the stage. There were multiple times where he danced right by us – parachute pants flying, Running Man moves in full effect. I was in teeny-bopper, hip-hop crossover heaven. Then 1992 ended. Aside from the Addams Family theme, Hammer (as he wanted to be called) disappeared, only reappearing to act as a cultural nostalgic reference.
Well, not so much Hammer, himself (although he has jumped on the reality show bandwagon and is apparently making music again) but the fashion statement he made, appears to be coming back into style. Those parachute pants (now called harem pants, I prefer Hammer pants) are popping up in Paris.
I followed this girl up one of the longest escalators ever. Enough time to catch a relatively good (re: focused) photo. Almost Hammer pants. I think the fact that the pants’ legs separate somewhere above the knees keeps her borderline. Although the pairing with the tight cream leather jacket and Chuck Taylors kicks it up a notch.
This girl is a return visitor, being called forward from the corner she occupied in a photo from a previous post. Captured entirely by accident, I am so glad I found her again! Her pants go in the opposite direction as those above – in the still shot I could almost be convinced they are a skirt. However, I do remember seeing her walk by and wondering how she was not tripping, due to how low the inseam was. I guess she must have to take baby steps. I know it is probably difficult to find shoes to go with such an outfit (the Converse above now look inspired), but the next-gen Birkenstocks aren’t helping.
Lastly, definitive proof of the Hammer pants resurrection was found in the window of my corner boutique. A bit hard to see because of the glare, these aren’t made out of flowy linen, or colorful polyester, but appear to be some type of jersey cotton. Seems like a great modification, now they can cling and sag all at the same time. I am morbidly curious about how much they cost and went by this evening to take a picture of the price tag, but the display had changed. I’m not driven enough to go in and try them on. I will, however, keep my eye (and camera) out for when some cute young thing walks by feeling trendy and sporting these new Hammer pants. I’ll hum “U Can’t Touch This” under my breath as I run after her, snapping photos.