When I was younger, I thought it was Hot. Nothing screamed rough and tough more than a handsome young man with a little sag to his swag. But as I’ve gotten older, I can’t help but to shake my head at the trend that sprouted from the confines of the jailhouse and transplanted with liberty to the streets. I now understand why old-timers twist up their faces and grit their teeth at the sight of a young man (or manly woman) with pants hanging below their bottoms. They roll their eyes and toot up their noses, barking about how lost and misguided this generation is, never hesitating to yell “Boy, you better pull up them pants!”
And I couldn’t agree more. Plain and simple, it’s not cute. I mean, what’s the point of wearing a belt if you’re going to show your business to every passerby anyhow? Oh yeah, I forgot, it’s the wave right? It’s cool and fashionable to have your underwear hanging out. Yet anytime a woman walks outside with a thong gripping her hips, everyone’s quick to think that she’s dressed inappropriately. And you’re not?
Don’t you all see how ridiculous you look with your a** half out and your britches hanging to your knees? Especially the ones who can’t walk straight because they’re too busy trying to keep their pants from falling to the ground. Seriously? You’re a grown man and don’t know what size jeans you wear? You spend hundreds of dollars on clothes and don’t own a decent belt? And not a belt just for fashion and flashing, but one that will hold your trousers up so the world’s not staring at your behind.
As outrageous as it is, this sagging thing is a true epidemic. When I walk the streets, it’s all I see. Whether I’m in the middle of the ‘hood or chilling in the ‘burbs, I’m met with the sight of boxer drawers and butt cracks. Even the skinny jeans some young men wear are somehow sticking to the leg but stopping way under the butt. Why do you want to get on public transportation with your underwear touching seats covered in germs?? People upload flicks on Facebook and post pics on Instagram, posing with their pants so low you wonder why they even bother to put any on. It’s to a point where parents—ratchet ones anyway—are dressing their kids in oversized jeans that showcase everything from the roota to the toota and proudly flaunt them to their friends like they’re trophies in a case. Sad.
What kills me most is that half the saggers out there are—or pretend to be—homophobic. Really? Funny how you’re advertising all your goods, exposing the very thing men in prison prize the most. The same thing that many of you would damn near go ballistic over if a woman even thinks about touching. How ironic.
Although you may not think it’s a big deal, there’s an army of onlookers who strongly disagree. Call me crazy, but the only people who need to know if your boxers read Calvin Klein or Fruit of the Loom are you and the ones you screw (and whoever funds the underwear you wear). Do the rest of us a favor and pull your pants up on your behind and save the sagging for when you’re at home–alone. Please.