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After sending some friends links to the leather pants auction on eBay, I received these responses.

From my friend Chris:

I remember when [name of guy we went to high school with who we thought was really cool at the time] bought leather pants. So, I bought leather pants. I think I wore them twice. The first time, I walked by my father while wearing them, and heard, "What the....J***s...Go****it!" It didn't feel good, like when I made them mad by wearing the old army coat and ripped jeans. It felt like I'd failed my father by not really being a male.

A similar memory was when I was too shy to tell [name of "new wave" hairdresser I made everyone go to] not to do what he wanted with my hair. In addition to being two-toned (my fault), it was about 8 inches high and curled. He kept saying, "We're going to really punk you out today!" All the way home, I kept trying to mash it down (in my Datsun 210). But it would just spring back up. When I got home, my mother had a very, very angry look. I think I just mumbled, "Don't start," and headed for the shower.

Youth was wasted on me.

I introduced Chris--along with many of my friends--to the hairdresser in question.

Guilty.

From my friend Tim:

I will always remember the faux leather pants and sleeveless shirt outfit you helped me pick out at Chess King that time - ouch! I actually wore them once to high school -- what the HELL was I thinking?!

I would feel more mocktacular about this had I not been photographed going to the only local authentic punk club at around age 19 wearing an enormous kelly-green satin bowtie. I don't know why I thought that was cool. It was not.

Cross-posted at These Days, Just Half-Mad.