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About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (March 16, 1987)
Monday, March 16
Daily Nebraskan Supplement
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, children's clothing
Hours 10-6 Mon.-Fri.
1 0-5 Sat.
806 South 27th
A Call 476-3951 A
THE BLOOM COUNTY COLLECTION . . .
r T-Shirts, Sweatshirts and books
,)1987 The Washington Post Writers Group
I Lin-Tex MarketingAustin, Texas
2 for $32
Selected Polos, Rugbys, Oxfords, Short Sleeve
Camp Shirts, Sweat Shirts, Solid and Print Shirts.
Also selected Cotton Pants.
Quantities limited. Sale runs now thru march 28.
iuH riii p cur
17th & Van
RRUL ivrro-cxL SYSTOVQ
Your Spring Break
Tan Is Just
2 Weeks Away
Coupon expires March 31st
818 "P" St. 475-8989
East Park Plaza Strip Center
200 N. 66th Suite 208A
(Next to the Phone Center)
mi;v- iiisfiffc, -miiti
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Dorn and On Campus
Poojballs not consultedor tlwir list ofkumquats in blazers
Why is it that "Best Dressed" lists
are almost always judged by
flippant rich poofballs who
would shove razor blades into their
noses, color their teeth blue and wear
bean bag chairs on their heads if some
other poofball told them it was "fashion
able"? That's what I want to know.
Why is it that most of the celebrities
I most admire wind up being called "a
walking fahsion emergency" or "a
colorblind Annie Hall"? Answer that
Some of my best friends are "kum
quats in blazers," "wardrobes that
time forgot" and "sleep dressers."
In honor of the people in the world
either too busy or too lazy to pour over
the latest issue of "Poofs on Parade," I
have managed to concoct a different
sort of a contest. In this contest Black
wood is not consulted. Elsa Klensch is
not consulted. The editors of Cosmo,
Elle, Vogue, Vague, Oelle, Ouelle,
Iouelle, Aeiouelle and Interview will
not be consulted.
Instead, I've consulted the editors of
Boy's Life, Soldier of Fortune, Weight
Watcher's Magazine, Reader's Digest,
True Detective and Feed Producer's
Monthly. They were more than willing
to help me pick out the "Proud Slobs"
of 1 987. It isn't the year end, but where
proud slobs are concerned, one doesn't
need to pay any attention to time. Slob
fashions are reasonably consistent.
The only risk involved in holding the
contest so early is that occasionally a
proud slob will discover fashion. There's
nothing more humiliating than giving
17th & R
somebody a much-sought-after "Proud
Slob" award and finding out he's wear
ing Egyptian eye shadow and AstroTurf
kilts come mid-December. This means
he wasn't really a proud slob at all.
Deep down he was ashamed.
He couldn't go near magazine racks
because his hands shook around those
oversized, voluminous excuses for "Poof
PR" that are lined up threateningly on
the uppermost shelf. Although he was a
slob on the outside, inside he was
turned to oatmeal by those squinting
French or Italian eyes peering at him
accusingly from behind a thick flop of
He is a shame to slobs everywhere.
Without further ado let me introduce
you to the 1987 Slob of the Year. It's me.
I win. It's my column and I win.
First of all, if I gave it to anyone else,
I'd run the risk of being sued for libel.
You never really know who's a "Proud
Slob" and who's closet fashion runway
material. Others have this strange belief
that slobs have no reason to be proud.
They look at themselves in the mirror
and hear all the nasty things anyone
has ever said to them. They hear
"greaseball," "scumface," "high risk
group" and "garden slug." And still
their pride wanes.
So, it's me. But this isn't to be
construed as vanity on my part. I, who
have numerous times gone out of my
way to follow the journalistic rule of
"keeping myself out of the story." Nay,
I represent all proud slobs. All the
people in this world who don't throw
away their clothes at the end of the
year to buy a more fashionable ward
robe. People who have the guts to wear
a collar that's a little too large or a tie
that's a little too small. People who
have noticed that after a few days,
greasy hair looks like a fine mousse job.
I accept this award for people who
still wear clothes once worn by their
siblings, parents, or grandparents; for
people who realize that the advertising
for hygiene products have created a
nation of paranoid orifice-sniffers. I
accept this award for people who wear
what's comfortable even if it's a 10-year-old
sweatshirt that's three sizes
too big and has stains from three oil
changes and two nosebleeds entrench
ed in the fabric.
These are my people.
Always remember and don't ever
forget that a couple of good sized holes
in a pair of high top tennis shoes mean
they're broke-in not broken down.
This year's runner-up was Heidley
Hooper from Duroc, Iowa, who became
a celebrity in The Weekly World News
when his wife gave birth to a two
hundred-pound corn root worm.
1 X J
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