There are times in life when you can be all wrong about things. And I’m trying to figure out if this moment is related to my age or vanity or social acceptance or pure function.
The fanny pack is back. And I’m okay with it. I’m so okay with it, I’m using one. And announcing it. And celebrating it.
Not just because the one I got is linked to a movie about a badass female superhero who is basically responsible for starting my favorite gang of world-savers. I truly think I never appreciated its function because vanity got in the way.
Also, fanny packs rock, for real.
What? Do you hear that? That laughter? Oh, it’s Tom Blodgett having a moment, laughing his best laugh, knowing he was way ahead of the curve. You were, Tom. This is your moment.
These once shunned hip packs, previously only worn by dads on summer road trips with their kids or moms chaperoning field trips, are suddenly cool. They’re like designy. And come in cute patterns and fabrics – some even metallic. Or sequined.
I’d probably steer clear of those.
Two hilarious moms even made a parody about their resurrection that will have you singing Justin Timberlake the rest of the day. My fave line: “Your mama wore one once and so should you.”
Okay. Okay. I Did it. Even thought I don’t remember my mom ever wearing one. I just don’t think that happened.
What? It held everything I needed it to, which wasn’t much, for this run. And I’ll admit I have been romancing fanny packs while cruising outdoors stores lately, to the horror of anyone with any vanity at all. It kind of makes sense: I am slightly obsessed with backpacks – and fanny packs are like mini backpacks – and everything mini is cute.
I do have a runner’s belt, but it’s super skinny and barely holds my Nano. Yeah, my Nano. I still use that. So…it makes sense that my clip-and-zip pouch should be just as vintage as my music machine.