Regular readers might remember a post from 2016 wherein I encountered a strangely rare Ramones t-shirt (featuring the original, un-used cover art from Road to Ruin) in the unlikely confines of Brandy Melville, a clothiers that tailors its apparel to teenaged girls, albeit ones of only a single size — a curiously exclusive stocking practice that seems a bit cruel to potential patrons of differing shapes, heights and weights. Some time after that, I also remember spotting a Circle Jerks t-shirt similarly for sale. Both of these instances made me frown, given that Brandy Melville is hardly what anyone might consider a thriving hub of subculture.
Today, while glumly attempting to finish off my Christmas shopping, I found myself walking by Brandy Melville on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 13th Street once agin. I had not originally intended to stop in. I gave my daughter a coat from there, some three years back, which she genuinely adored, but her tastes have since expanded beyond the particular aesthetic of the BM brand. But, once again, I spied an item in the window that stopped me dead in my tracks to the point wherein I had to go inside and check it out first hand.
Tucked into the back corner of the shop on the window side were a bunch of rather plain looking sweatshirts on hangers over piles of cropped rugby shirts, ersatz sailing-wear and cable-knit cardigans. Emblazoned across these comparatively drab sweatshirts was the incongruous legend:
US HARDCORE PUNK
I got nothing.
Recent Comments