I'll be honest. The name, Fanny Pack, makes me shudder. Or say, give me douche chills. (If you don't get the reference on this, you live a very sad life without having seen Arrested Development.)
When you first think of a Fanny Pack, you're definitely thinking of yourself behind some sweaty fat man in line at Disneyland, with his blue blocker glasses, sock & Teva combination, and then his fanny pack. Strapped tight right under his beer belly, full of who knows what.
Enough of the nasty image. The Fanny Pack has made it's return and doesn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
Bask in it's glory.
Who said the Fanny Pack was lame?
This for some odd reason reminds me of riding in my aunts car when I was little, her house/tomato garden, the smell of Patchouli, and the 90's.
My only wish is to hit the jackpot at the D.I.
Okay, what happened here? If anyone can tell me what THIS is all about...maybe I don't want to know though...
My personal Fanny Pack is just plain black and decked out in Eddie Izzard pins. Maybe i'll add some rainbows and studs to the mix and have my self a Transvestite/Punked Out Fanny Pack.
So. Fanny Packs. They're So Stylistic. (Can I say that now?)
-Olive, The Blowfish Queen
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