For the last several months, we've known this day was coming. We'd run out of ways to stop it, but so far, acceptance has been out of the question. My female friends and I — clad in our stiffest mom jeans and never-fail bodysuits — have whined about it over wine, bitched about it over beers and shelled out large portions of our salaries in our greatest effort to stop it from happening. But frustratingly, there's no stopping the inevitable.
What will the future hold, we've wondered. How can we just carry on like everything's going to be OK? Because it won't be OK. Nothing will ever be the same again.
I'm talking, of course (OF COURSE), about the massive tragedy that's soon to befall our once great country: the end of American Apparel. It was announced late last week that Gildan Activewear, the Canadian corporation that purchased AA for $88 million, will soon be shutting down every last one of the clothing brand's remaining 110 stores, as well as its famed headquarters in Los Angeles.
(And now here I am, second guessing the move to Canada I'd been plotting since Nov. 9. Thanks, Gildan.)
The truth is, I love American Apparel. I love its made-in-America mission, its pro-LGBTQ position, and its dedication to simple, unfussy clothing that (save for those long-ago lamé days) are generally timeless. I loved it during Dov; I loved it post-Dov. I loved it when its ads were ridiculous and OTT; I loved it when its mannequins miraculously grew pubes; I loved when the models' nips showed through their sheer shirts like it was NBD because nipples SHOULD be NBD. And I especially loved that when my favorite high-waisted trousers wore out after three years of heavy wardrobe rotation, I could re-buy the exact same pair. I dread the day my current pants become threadbare.
In the midst of my despair, I decided to compile an extensive list of god-awful things that will very likely continue to exist long after American Apparel does not. Does the world really need another celebrity-fronted athleisure line? Or more advice on "wellness" from a woman whose skin treatments cost more than my monthly rent?
Without further ado, here are 31 things I'd really rather see disappear for-absolutely-ever before American Apparel. Life is unfair :(
1. Instagram brows
2. MTV's "Ridiculousness"
3. Carpeted toilet seat covers
4. Tops with the shoulders cut out
5. Dresses that turn sheer at the thighs
6. Internet animals that refer to their owners as "hoomins"
7. Apple Berry-flavored La Croix
8. Happy hour specials that only apply if you sit at the bar
9. Couples who sit on each other's laps on the subway
10. Chocolate chip cookies that are actually filled with raisins
11. Movie theaters that don't offer matinee pricing
12. Accent nails as a concept
13. Jennifer Garner's side-gig as a credit card spokesperson
14. Slip dresses because they look terrible on me and therefore should cease to exist
15. Mascaras with molded plastic spoolies
16. Headlines that deem celebrities "unrecognizable" when they get bangs
17. Gwyneth Paltrow's "wellness" tips
18. Nail polish that suddenly decides it's not fully dry when you go to button your jeans
19. Carrie Underwood's athleisure line, CALIA
21. Pole leaners
22. People who hashtag their own selfies #sexy or #cutecouple
23. "But First, Brunch" merch
24. Martin Shkreli
25. Draper James
26. The guys who try to sell me discounted salon packages on the sidewalk
27. PR emails that start with "sorry to stalk"
28. Plastic tattoo chokers worn un-ironically by teens because they weren't even alive the first time around
29. iPhone software updates that make your phone work worse than it did before
30. Cutout one-pieces that create bulges where bulges should never be
31. The Trumps
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