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Fanny Packs: The Mullet of Purses

There aren’t many things fashion-wise that bug the creeps out of me. After all, I spend a lot of time in my yoga pants ignoring general fashion trends and basking in their elasticity. While I would not call the following annoyance a fashion trend, I would call it an obstruction of justice. An obstruction of respect. An obstruction of all things that you can think to insert here.

To get to the point: I have major beef with fanny packs. I cannot even begin to describe my hatred for them. And yes, perhaps they are handy in certain situations. But convenience should never magnify your body parts in the most negative of ways. 

Are you with me now? Usually I don’t pull up a fresh my computer screen and pretend like I am an expert of what is wrong and right as far as what people put on their bodies.

But unfortunately, this is necessary.

Because, while vacationing this past week, I saw an abundance of fanny packs. So many that I got scared of them and developed a phobia. (Not to mention the fact that my brother-in-law both purchased and wore one for nearly our whole trip.)

And sure, they are convenient. All this hands-free bag carrying. But I’d rather carry around a sack of bricks through shards of glass while barefoot than ever get caught wearing a patent leather fanny pack.

Are you this offended by the fanny pack? Please tell me you don’t own one. Because in my book, they are way worse than Crocs. In fact, they’re sort of like the mullet of purses.

At the end of the day, if hating fanny packs is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

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