Ask the Greek God of Style (Vol. 31): Led Zeppelin or Def Leppard and Pre-Aged Denim?
Andy Ingram
Q: Dear Greek God of Style,
Would your holiness buy pre-ripped or pre-aged denim? Or they offer that now with guitars too, like pre-faded or new guitars that look 50 years old but for brand new prices. You play guitar, don’t you? Is “Stairway to Heaven” your favorite song? Personally I hate Led Zeppelin. Def Leppard is so much better!
Richard Savage from Sheffield
A: Dear Richie,
I vomited in my mouth a bit when I read your questions. The burning acidic fire may have left permanent internal damage. To be nice, per my usual demeanor, I would like to suggest that you have MASSIVE COMMITMENT ISSUES!!!
Do you frequently exchange pounds for poundings when propositioned for a Piccadilly palare?? Is it daunting to you to invest in the smoldering dance of nuances and deep eye contact - the almost-touch, the almost-kiss, the warm breath on her neck, the radiating heat . . . ahem . . . I digress. Collect yourself!
The shameful inquiry concerning pre-aged anything truly brings me despair and shakes the foundations of my hope for the future. I invest the time and battle with my denim to wrestle it into compliance. That constant, rewarding struggle yields an intimate relationship that conforms to all my godly features. Aging like fine spirits, the decadal battle reveals its scars as the myriad of experiences we have shared so intimately.
Imagine what experiences and emotions your sweatshop stretch denim seamstresses are pouring into you as they grind away and leave a husk of trousers that bear the marks of their pain and burden for your Kohls-Klothes. Do you really enjoy the thought of displaying their pain as your own?! Charlatan!
You should know this by now, but I’ll repeat it since you may be thick in the head. Start with a purchase of French denim. Preferably in your aspirational size. Wear them raw, always. You may complain that it’s too rough for your delicacies. I would like to suggest that this roughness may be some of the most salacious experiences for you. Wear them and do not wash them unless you have an opportunity to bathe them in the warm, salty Mediterranean waters where you caress them and allow them to dry in the midday sun. Putting them back on, as they squeeze your body, will remind you of the memories of my steamy nights in Marrakech. For an extra charge I’ll share them with you in audio form. If in ten years they are not worn or torn, that’s a clear indication that you have failed and done nothing in your life. At that moment remove them, soak them in diesel fuel, and set them alight.