So I went to the Levi’s store in San Francisco because I had heard that good jeans were back. That they were making them the way they used to. They may cost a lot more, but if you want some emotional time travel and believe that denim in its raw form can make you feel whole, it’s going to be worth the purchase of that two-legged vessel to a simpler time.
The clerk helping me was a chubby fellow with a handlebar mustache. I have no patience for contemporary handlebar mustaches. They anger me. They look indulgent and ridiculous. If you have a handlebar mustache, that is pretty much all you are. You are a delivery system for a handlebar mustache. I saw a guy in Brooklyn once with a handlebar mustache, pierced ears, a fedora hat and jodhpurs. He was a collage of sartorial attempts at evading himself. It looked as if he were interrupted during a shave in the mid-1850s and had to grab some clothes and dress quickly while being chased through a time tunnel.
Desperate and stupid are good descriptions when you get to the part of what he actually did to make the pants try to fit. Made me laugh.