22/09/2016
What the WHAT.

Words by

Bianca O'Neill

An unusual thing is happening at Fashion Week at the moment: the ’00s are coming back.

But not in an edgy, Glasto-ready Kate Moss-cool way. Not even in a lingerie-hot-mess Christina Aguilera way. It's all of my fashion fears, conglomerated into an oozing pustule of ugliness threatening to pop all over our confused #frow faces.

The ’00s were a weird time for fashion. It was, at once, both boring and offensive. I have fond memories of being in my early twenties (IN MY PRIME MIND YOU), pairing pointy kitten-heeled mules with super low-slung wide leg pants that required a brazillian to leave the house.

Suffice to say, all my fears are set alight when I think that photos of my younger, non-botox-needing self are lasting evidence that may come back to haunt me.

Luckily, the more innocent time of the early ’00s meant photos were taken in the pre-Facebook world. A world when your flip phone busted out images that were approximately 24kb and un-screenshot-able. PHEW.

But back to 2016 – and like some reoccurring fashion nightmare, THOSE mesh Chinese slippers are back. But this time, they're in 256MB and the photographic clarity is giving me a flashback migraine.

It started with Alexander Wang – and when it didn't catch on we thought we were done with the whole gross debacle, wiping our brows in confused, anxious befuddlement. That was, until this week, when Gypsy Sport paired the most fugly ’00s accessory of all with shin-length sports socks and purple mesh tights. What the WHAT.

However, I'm not here to re-implant these disgracefully offensive images of the ’00s' second worst trend in your brain. I'm here to remind you – nay, warn you – of the first most offensive trend of the ’00s.

The. Juicy. Couture. Velour. Tracksuit.

According to Wiki, we have Madonna to blame for this abhorrent blip in our fashion history. As we do many things, but I digress...

The rise of velvet on the streets of New York, as the street style images slowly filter down to us Down Under, is striking fear in the heart of this fashion writer. After all, velvet is only one mesh-slippered shuffle away from Juicy.

It's like seeing the mum from Mean Girls out the front of Mary Katrantzou, but not ironic. Not ironic at all.

My secret life's work has centred around striking the Juicy Couture moment from our fashion history books – and I'm proud to say I never caved. Not even when P-Hilton was rocking it, diamante style, chihuahua in hand. 

I want to remove every reference to it. Ever. This is a 000 call to Google Images: Help me.

Then, and only then, will we be safe from designers 'bringing it back'.

And like a tree that falls in the forest: if we never documented it, did it ever happen? Can this drastic (yet justified) action save us, in order to stop designers rehashing the Juicy Couture tracksuit as a retro ironic runway statement?

Perhaps only George Berkeley can answer that. He seems like the kind of guy who would understand my plight. I mean, he appears to be fond of a chic man-beret, no? 

To follow Bianca's heroic journey wiping the history books of Juicy Couture, check out @_thesecondrow 

Illustration by Twylamae.

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