Give it the boot: the Beans are better off without lifetime warranty

348 and Maine street: Consider the onion: layers help students reinvent back-to-school styles

Believe it or not, it’s September again. Yes, the summer has flown by faster than Miley can twerk. While I must admit that I’m more than a little sad to see warm weather go, I take comfort in knowing it will soon be back again.
So don’t mourn the end of summer. In fact, let’s celebrate the pumpkin-drenched, cinnamon-spiced, oatmeal-munching feast for the senses that is fall. But this is a style column, not a cookbook, so why should you give a twerking ass about pumpkin and cinnamon and oatmeal? First, because those are the new colors featured in this season’s catalogue from the fine (and apparently hungry) people at J. Crew. Second, and more importantly, you should care because these months between sand and snow bring us style at its most delicious.
It’s called back-to-school for a reason: this is style at its cleverest, a time when even the most hopeless slackers put in a little effort. But the fact that we try harder is not the real reason fall is the only season when aesthetically minded people walk around without praying for blindness. No, the truth about autumn’s awesomeness lies in the layers. All the best things in life have layers (see: cake, stacks of money, ogres), and fall fashion is no exception. Wearing layers is so fabulous because it’s like being a real, live Russian nesting doll: you can have 27 looks with one outfit.

348 and Maine street: Clowning around: bright colored pants are a joke

It has come to my attention that we are in dire need of a dressing lesson. I realized we were in trouble because I have eyesight and possess a normal desire to keep my eyes functioning—which is a challenge when confronted with atrocities that make them bleed, like genocide and sequined Uggs. This lesson is called How To Avoid Looking Like a Clown.
Now, to be clear, I have nothing against clowns. In fact, as those who know me well can tell you, I briefly attended clown school. There is great fun to be had in being a clown, but there is a reason I don’t tell many people about my time behind the red nose. With Valentine’s Day upon us, this reason is even more urgent: nobody wants to fuck a clown. Or rather, no one wants to fuck someone who looks like a clown without realizing it. Professional clowns are, as a rule, very sexy and have no shortage of Valentine’s dates. That’s because they know not to take their work home with them.
If you want to look like a clown, and know you look like a clown, and understand the consequences of looking like a clown, I applaud you. You are an eccentric and will die alone. But I suspect that most of the people who I’m talking about have no idea how ridiculous they look and would not like to spend their lives, let alone next Friday, celibate and friendless. But fear not, for I am here to help!

348 and Maine street

Give it the boot: the Beans are better off without lifetime warranty

This piece represents the opinion of the author:

Evan Horwitz

Columnist

January 24, 2014

Eliza Graumlich

THE BEARS WEAR BEAN: Despite their duck bill appearance, Bean Boots are on the feet of many students. Because most students are not hunters, the boots are vestiges of their once practical appeal.

Yes, I've been away. Yes, you've missed me, like Tom Cruise misses Katie Holmes. And that’s a lot, because now he has no one to play with in his Scientology dungeon.

And did I miss you all? Well, let's just say I missed you about as much as Katie misses Tom, which is probably more than any of us realize. The steady cash flow that comes with being Tom Cruise's wife is more than sufficient to forget anything that comes up during those pesky dungeon games.

Never underestimate the effects of some good old fashioned Stockholm syndrome: you don't really understand how you got trapped in this strange place, the things you're forced to do seem bizarre at best, but pretty soon things start to seem really fun and you wonder if you've been drugged. Maybe you have, but who cares, it's a party. That's pretty much what coming back to school is like, so even if I didn't miss you, give me a week and I'll never want to leave again.

Yes, it's been a while, and yet, some things don't change. It is still cold here in Brunswick, and Bean Boots are still a thing, now more than ever.

First, let's talk about the cold. What strikes me more than the frigid air itself is that everyone seems entirely shocked whenever the thermometer dips below the drinking age. No one seems to know what to do when there's a polar vortex or an arctic cyclone or an icecapades typhoon. I remember, in the days before global warming, we just called the darker days of the year "winter," and we weren't all that surprised when the cold rushed in. In other words, it's not colder than it ever was, so for the love of Suri Cruise, keep calm, and stop dressing like you're a Siberian refugee wearing everything you own on a trek from St. Petersburg to Irkutsk. (Fun fact: I know nothing, obviously, about Russian geography. I make no apologies, and refuse to believe that Sochi is a real place.)

If the weather makes you feel like you will pass away if you stop moving, don't let your style suffer. Which brings me back to Bean Boots.

If ever we needed proof that just because something is popular doesn't mean it's right, we need look no further than the Bean Boot: so popular, so wrong. I'm not just talking about the boots manufactured by the venerable L.L. Bean Company but duck boots of all kinds. Duck boot is the proper name for these things, though no one knows it anymore, and quite apt it is. They do indeed look like a giant duck bill. As a general rule (though rules are meant to be broken), one should not wear garments that look like animal body parts after the age of seven.

Let me be clear: I do not have a problem with duck boots. They were probably invented for woodsmen and game hunters and lumberjacks and other such people who needed to trudge through heaps of snow and ice to survive. For these people, they are extremely practical. But these people never interact with other human beings, and so they need not worry what they look like. That is not you. Despite your flannel lined pants, you are not a lumberjack. And I can see you.

But, you protest, Bean Boots are practical for me, too. No, no they are not. From the fact that Bean Boots are the collegiate "it" shoe of the past several years, one would think that colleges are full of unplowed snowfields that students must navigate to get to class. But look at any college campus and it is simply not so: there are clear and snow-free paths to anywhere and everywhere you could possibly need to go. You never need to walk in the snow, and so you don't need to wear Bean Boots. Before you even think of saying that Bean Boots keep your feet warm, go outside for a moment in yours and behold: they do not, by any measure, keep your feet warmer than any other shoe, flip flops perhaps excepted.

I might excuse Bean Boots if they were actually practical—even though I loathe practicality—particularly when it comes to footwear. But they are not practical, and are instead thought to be fashionable. They are so darn trendy that it seems no one has bothered to really look at them.

I have a public service announcement: they are extremely ugly. Really, exceptionally horrible looking. They have a special skill for ruining any outfit they are paired with, and accomplish the remarkable feat of making your feet look bloated and malformed. Why anyone would want these things is truly beyond me.

But it's not just an aesthetic problem. It's not just my eyes that are bleeding, but my ears too. Wearers of Bean Boots magically lose the ability to pick up their feet when they walk, and instead shuffle and drag their feet everywhere. This creates an terrifically loud ruckus, not to mention that it leaves offensive scuffs all over the place. I do not know why Bean Boots prevent you from walking like a human being, but it worries me. Your parents spent many hours teaching you how to walk. Don't let their efforts go to waste. I fear that if people continue to wear the boots, they will lose the ability to take distinct steps altogether.

I wish that my telling you to take off your Bean Boots would have some effect, but I know it won't. All I want is a world with better shoes. Can't I dream, like Katie dreamed of one day escaping Tom? She got her dream, and maybe, with your help, I can get mine.

P.S. I'm wearing Bean Boots.

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