If they’re tattered and wrinkled, I probably can’t afford them.

I went shopping with my younger son yesterday for summer clothes.  We started out at a discount-type store where we didn’t find anything except crisp, new-looking, ironed clothes.  Egads.  He wrinkled his nose and shook his head as if to say, “Eeeewww.  I wouldn’t be caught dead in clothes that look this nice.”

I should have seen it coming.  Last weekend, I took my oldest son shopping for a few things because he was going to be a counselor at a summer camp.  One of the things on the list was a pair of dress khakis without the big cargo pockets.  After trying on dozens, he finally found some that were acceptable, even though he let it be known he’d never wear them again after this summer.

As soon as we got home, he asked, “Can you wash these so maybe the creases will some out?”  By “creases” he didn’t mean wrinkles caused from being hauled around in a shipping bag all day.  He meant those ugly ironed-in-creases I had been taught to love and admire.

So, I should have known that young people today are all in this together.  The worse their clothes look, the better.  You’re so totally “not cool” if your clothes are smooth or even worse, have no holes in them.

My younger son and I migrated to several other stores in search of the perfect shorts and shirts.  I honestly didn’t know what exactly he was looking for.

Then he spotted them.  “There!  I REALLY like those.”

“Those” were a pair of shorts that, I’m not kidding, looked like a really old pair of khakis that had been cut off a couple of years ago, thrown out in the sun for several months, then walked over long enough to make a couple of random holes.  Then they were wet down, wadded up into a tight ball, and then hung in this really expensive store.

There were strings coming from what used to be the hem, and they were so wrinkled, they looked like they had come straight from the bottom of my year-old ironing basket.  If you had shown them to me in a different setting, I would have bet you they had come from the garage sale next door.  Except there were hundreds of them.  Hundreds and hundreds.

And get this.  They were $59.00.  Gasp!  Some really smart person had convinced the teenagers of America that they should pay unreal amounts of money for shorts that you can get at the Salvation Army for about $2.50.  They call it “vintage” and get away with it.

He also brightened up when he saw a faded blue shirt that looked like it had been washed about 500 times.  The collar was bunched up and the edges were frayed.  It was so “vintage” I was afraid to look at the price.

Don’t even get me started on the caps that are already ripped when you buy them.  There was a time when my teens would have thrown a hissy fit if their beloved cap got a scuff on it and would beg for a new one.  Now we buy already-old ones on purpose.

So next time your teenager asks, “What about this faded pair that’s all torn up and wrinkled?” you need to prepare yourself.

“Put down those falling-apart clothes!  You know we can’t afford them.  You think your father and I are made of money?”