Soft Pretzels and the Pam-and-Gela ready-mades

It's 2006. The Killers have released Hot Fuss and Sam's Town and it might possibly be the peak of American existence. I was about 10 years old, and I'm going to tell you a fashion-related story about this hallowed year.


One of my favorite places to go was the local hockey rink. My brother played for a while, and my parents were pretty invested. We would go to nearly every game and it was a repetition of the same ritual: Walk in, head to concessions, buy a soft pretzel with cheese and a blue slushie. My mom would get popcorn while my tot-self gorged on a lot of fake deliciousness. And I would slink into the big rink to join my parents in the stands of anxious parents, shivering in my bright pink Juicy Couture track suit with flared pants tucked into rolled-over Ugg boots. This was the uniform at the time – and it was something of a paradox for me, because I despised that everyone wore this outfit, but I also completely ate it up at the same time.

I have fond memories of those hockey days, and I often associate them with the bright colors of those track suits and the warmth of the Ugg boots that often accompanied them. It was the easiest thing; Never having to match an outfit cause one was ready-made, always. I naively felt like a hip grown-up amongst all the adults around me, juxtaposed with the comfort and immaturity that are integral to those exercise getups. When I would get bored, the few other young siblings and I would run around under the bleachers, solving murder mysteries to the tune of Zamboni-time Bowling for Soup. I was a particularly stylish young detective in my pink velour.

I don't wear them anymore but I probably still could, as I still own one or two (now that I'm writing this I think I will haha). And I certainly don't eat soft pretzels anymore and I don't actually miss those at all. But my point is that it was all simple and all very pure – I didn't worry about matching my outfits then, I didn't worry about watching my weight. I only really worried that my brother wouldn't get a puck to the face and that my blue slushie wouldn't melt before I finished it.

Fin.