Sunday, September 5, 2010
Backpacks are cool again.
Fat is putting them in their shop-window displays.
The overly skinny, cigarette puffing cool cats at The Bend are wearing them.
And my bible of all things hip and happening in The Big Apple (yeah because clearly I live there and can partake in aforementioned super cool activities) has proclaimed that they are oh-so-back in a big way.
And on the additional flip, you can please your Asian mother with its beneficial physiotherapeutic qualities. Something about distributing the weight equally on the shoulders...I wasn't really paying attention at the time.
In any case - I really want a knapsack. If only because it makes a catchy rhyme - 'A knapsack on my back...' (Lame? Okay...yeah I'm going to shut up now...it's the whole 'year older...lamer jokes' thing...apologies if your dork radar has just exploded in your face)
You could just jump on the bandwagon and you'd be sort of cool (like the cigarette puffing and beanstalk legged crowd that shop like crazed retail whores at Fat). Or you could do one better - by simply doing your own thing. Like the always impeccably attired Tarang (such a stalk-mine if there ever was one...and a truly lovely friend to boot).
My inner dandy man (who clearly has serious consumer whore problems) is way obsessed with his beautifully practical canvas and leather piece of backpacking goodness. Simple, deliciously pragmatic and made in limited batches (that's the real catch...) - with a real 'heritage-cool' edge to it. The apparent physical benefits of getting your back into it just got exponentially more obvious.
That, or I'm getting old and turning into my mother...
I'm going with the former