Blame sagging on the ladies

| February 3, 2014

D.L. Russell


First of all, this isn’t an article for men! If you are a male, reading this, go make a bologna sandwich or change your oil or take a bath—anything, but do not read this article!

(Pause for a moment while all the men remove themselves from the conversation.)

Okay, ladies. With all the men having put down their newspapers, let’s get to it. This ain’t gonna be pretty!

I would like to let each and every one of you know that it’s your fault, it’s all your faults, yes, with an “s!”

Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “that D. L. Russell don’ up and lost his mind, ain’t nothing our fault. He better check himself!” That’s what you’re all thinking at this point, but after I tell my tale, you will all gently bow your heads and say, “yep, he was right, we did it…”

Back in the early fall of 2013 I walked down to my daughter’s school to pick her up. The day was relatively warm so I viewed it as an opportunity to get some fresh air and to listen to her tell about her exciting school day as we headed back to my house. We started walking back and there was a young couple about twenty feet in front of us. They were obviously in love, or at least she was in love with him; I base this on the fact that they weren’t walking very fast and their progress slowed to a snail’s pace every few steps because she seemed to need to stare into his eyes every few seconds. Or so I thought…

After awhile, I realized the reason they kept stopping wasn’t because of her need to gaze into his eyes, but it was because of his need to pull up his pants. You see, the young man was one of those kids who feel a need to wear his pants under the round of his rear end. Every few steps he took caused his pants to fall below that imaginary line, which makes it cool to dress like a prison inmate who’s advertising his backside is available for sex at the right price, and an uncomfortable safety hazard.

The trend of sagging-ass-out pants has run its course and it’s time we started taking steps for it to go the way of the leisure suit, and that responsibility lies squarely with you ladies. Moms, grandmothers, aunts, and especially girlfriends and wives, you allowed the men in your life to walk with you, often holding hands while their pants were resting just above his knees. You allowed them to be seen in public with you, even though they were forced to stutter-step as if they were a member of a chain gang. You praised them, loved them, and even purchased some of the pants they wear and it’s this enabling by you ladies, that makes them believe there is nothing wrong with walking around showing 95% of their boxer shorts.

Put your feet down ladies. Use that God-given power you have to make us men behave. Let the men in your life know that you will not be seen with them unless their pants are at their waist. Let them know you will not purchase their school pants in a size 56 when they only have a waist of size 28. And, let them know there will be no relations, going on with you, if they can’t simply pull their pants up and dress like a man!

You caused this problem ladies, and it’s up to you to fix it. Organize a big-baggy-pants-bonfire if you must, but get it taken care of. My daughter is nine years old, and I would like this to be a blip on the history of fashion, by the time she is of dating age.



D.L. Russell is an author of Horror and Dark Fantasy and the co-founder and editor of Strange, Weird, and Wonderful Publishing. You can also visit his blog at


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Category: Entertainment, Local, Opinion

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Frost Illustrated is Fort Wayne's oldest weekly newspaper. Your Independent Voice in the Community, featuring news & views of African Americans since 1968.

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