Dressing For Dystopia

We’re all feeling it lately. The heavy, suffocating dread perched squarely on our chests every night as we’re lying in bed. The shame and burden of our collective failures as a society like a cat with its bony-ass elbow digging into our sternum, preventing us from sleep. We blew it, you guys. We blew it bad. And it’s hard to think about anything else. So, in that spirit, Taylor and I decided not to reward you with sugar-coated Valentine’s treats today, but rather some bleak forecasting of our impending doom as a civilization. Yay! Welcome to the future! But not a cool tech future with hoverboards and flying cars and shit. No, this is more like a cross between 1984 and Idiocracy. Orwellian in its authoritarianism and propensity for doublespeak, and Idiocracian because BETSY DEVOS.


“The years passed, mankind became stupider at a frightening rate. Some had high hopes the genetic engineering would correct this trend in evolution, but sadly the greatest minds and resources were focused on conquering hair loss and prolonging erections.”
– Idiocracy


Ok, so here we are. Years have passed. Infrastructure is crumbling. Democracy has collapsed. The dystopian future has crept up on us and is now crouching down lighting a dog-turd-filled paper sack on fire on our front porch. We gotta stomp that shit out, even if it means getting turd on our favorite boots or possibly catching on fire, because if not us, then who? A small band of rebels plus one badass three-legged dog are leading the Southern Resistance against Big Orange, a tyrannical leader who keeps the population numbed with a mixture of mandatory daily viewings of The Apprentice (old version, obvs) and droning speeches hocking his daughter’s newest line of tracking devi… I mean jewelry.


“The choice of mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better”
– George Orwell, 1984


Technology and innovation have effectively been halted. Ever since Big Orange launched his “fake science” crusade condemning them as heretics and reinstating stake-burnings as acceptable forms of capital punishment, the scientists and engineers have all fled north to more hospitable arrangements. Occasionally they will throw care packages of vaccines and new tech devices over the Canada border wall to their co-conspirators in Vermont and upstate New York, but we’re in the South and we’re doing this shit grassroots style. That means nothing but an axe, a crowbar, and our cunning to keep us alive.

“So you’re smart, huh? I thought your head would be bigger. Looks like a peanut!”Β 
– Idiocracy





Only came here to do two things, drink some clean water, and stab some pussy-grabbers. Looks like we’re almost out of clean water…

We left our homes in a hurry and fled to the woods the day that Big Orange announced that he had TV’s. Lots of TV’s. The best TV’s. Everyone’s saying it. And his government stooges would be coming by to install them into our homes for us while we were at work. Well, our heads might look like peanuts, but there are two things we know for sure: 1) There’s no such thing as a free lunch and 2) There’s definitely no such thing as a free TV. We decided then that we would never be spied upon, and we would never, NEVER, pretend to enjoy The Apprentice.


“Always eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you. Asleep or awake, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or bed – no escape. Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters in your skull.”
– George Orwell, 1984


And now here we are. In the woods. Writing a blog post. Only time will tell how the resistance turns out, but at the very least, maybe we can convince the government to stop watering the crops with Brawndo? All we can say for sure is, the end is near, y’all. You should probably get dressed.


Thanks for reading and as always, we’ll C U Next Tuesday!

Wearing: Jacket and boots from Target, pants from ASOS, hooded mesh-back shirt from ?? (it is one of my workout shirts from forever ago) and silk scarf given to me by my mom. On Pepe: Bandana from Amazon and red fur coat – his own.
Wearing: Sweater from H&M (borrowed from my husband, who was born ready for the apocalypse), tights from Target, jacket from H&M, boots from Shoedazzle. Socks so old their origins have been lost to the mists of time.

4 thoughts on “Dressing For Dystopia

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