I still remember where I was…it was approximately midnight, and the dj un-ironically played Prince’s “1999” as we waited for the world come off it’s hinges.  In an anticlimactic turn of events, society largely remained unbothered.  As the world continued to spin, we adjusted our clocks accordingly, and ushered in the lowest rise denim known to man.  We also threw in some useless hip belts that served no utility whatsoever, aside from looking fierce, of course.

Over a decade later, Gen Z would open that freshly forgotten time capsule from the early aughts, and reawaken the beast we thought we had permanently slayed by 2010.  How could we possibly know this demon in low slung denim would come back like a demigorgan from the Upside Down to cause chaos and frighten the elder millennials?  Well, the fact that history repeats itself might have been a clue, but living in denial tends to obscure that fact, so….

This boon has meant all that seemingly worthless junk that had been hiding under the bed at your parent’s house had not only been accumulating dust, but value.  Garments that laced up the crotch and sides, Paris Blues anything and mesh tops with nonsense prints, all turned out to be long term investments.  It’s just too bad you threw them all away like the garbage they were.  Thankfully, hordes of human raccoons sorted through that trash to retrieve your fashion mistakes and flip them into the biggest trend this side of 2018.  All that bullshit that had been only dollars at the thrift store, now sells for hundreds on the trendy resale sites.

If only my life had not devolved into a cataclysm of catastrophe leading to the loss of nearly the entirety of my childhood possessions, I might have been able to retire off the fortune made from my middle school wardrobe alone.  Le sigh.  But the question I have, now years into this mid drift-baring trend—when will it be over?  Fashion is cyclical, no mater how trash you thought the trend, it always comes back for one more scare.  But who will be the final girl to save us from this horror?  Not Muiccia, not Thom Browne (though he may introduce an even scarier monster if his most recent collection is any indicator), perhaps Rei Kawakubo?  Can she lead us away from The Simple Life and into the shadows?  Who better to slay y2k than a tribe of crows?