I'm annoyed by girls who walk around wearing clothes that have the mass-market designer printed in bold letters as a fashion statement. "Omagaw, I'm such a Bebe gurl. Can't you tell?" You trendy ditz, the only statement you're making is "Look at me! I'm a bimbo billboard! The big clothing manufacturers can't buy this kind of advertising, and don't have to, because I happily pay extra to do it for them, tee-hee!"
Somehow, it's even worse when guys do it. "Look, I'm wearing an A&F ballcap. See the frayed edges of the bill? I bought it that way." Back up, Bruce, that constitutes trying to balance on a tightrope with metrosexual to the right, homosexual to the left, and strong gusts blowing in the direction of Judy Garland-ville.
But asinine vogue doesn't stop there. What about girls who think wearing jogging pants (with two or three pin stripes going down each leg) is "da bomb"? Then there are their boyfriends, who kick back in baggy sports jerseys and sweat pants with the crotch hanging between their knees because "Yo, ah needs tuh be comftuble, knowamsayin'?" Shut the fuck up, you slack-jawed, delusional buffoon. Your package ain't that big, and the skinniness of your chicken legs would more than compensate in the room department even if it were. Quit pissing off professional clowns who have to pay more for clothes due to your gotta-have-it-now ghettofab taste and go buy something that fits.
These, and many more, at a food court near you. I'll have the chicken teriyaki combo plate, please.