An endorsement of capitalism, sports

By Todd Stadler · Saturday, January 27, 2001 1:38am

I went shopping at Old Navy today. I asked a nice, hip lady friend of mine where I should go shopping, since I'm tired of going to low-end thrift stores and wanted to buy something nice, but not too much. Such are the constraints of being a fashion bug like myself. Ahem. She said "you'd be surprised, but Old Navy isn't so bad." And I was, in fact, surprised, because all I knew of Old Navy involved Morgan Fairchild, some dog, and a weird old lady who may or may not be famous outside of Old Navy commercials. I had no clue it was just the cheap version of the Gap. Besides, could I really find happiness at yet another suburban outlet of uniformity? Apparently. I found an XXL orange sweater on sale. Guess I'll have to burn my Young Urban Hipster card now.

But the shopping ecstasy didn't end there. Oh no. Once I had drunk the milk of shopping paradise, I could not escape the suburban caves of ice. Or rather, I decided since I was already out in the suburbs, I would check out another of these stores I know so little about. And as luck (or the zoning commission) would have it, there was a Ross Dress for Less next door.

Anyhow, Ross is suburbia at its best (even though there's one downtown, too). Cheap, yet good, and yet not too well-known, it seems. Or as well-known as it should be. Much like my beloved Half-Price Books. I always feel like I stand out whenever I'm in a Ross, though. While I'm looking for something hip (or so-lame-it's-hip) and somewhat cheap (because I am myself cheap frugal), most of my fellow shoppers seem to be focusing on just finding clothes they can afford. Which makes me seem a bit of a jerk. But enough about me, let's talk about the jacket I found.

It's a Cleveland Browns jacket. Mostly brown, with a giant double-headed orange arrow running along the back and sleeves. Pure PVC, made to look something like leather. Even the zipper is plastic. On the front left breast is the Cleveland Browns helmet, and across the back, it says "BROWNS".

Never in my all my years of shopping would I have dreamed of finding such a jacket. And yet, there it was at Ross. Not surrounded by similar pleather jackets of other underperforming NFL franchises, no. Just by itself. Calling to me, saying it was glad I had finally found it, and that it was time for me to take it home.

Seriously, this was apparel fate. I have loved (in that sickly, ironic sense of the word) the Browns since I was a little kid. I remember seeing a poster of all the NFL helmets, and being struck by the Browns' stark, singularly orange helmet. Orange, not brown! What was a brown, anyways? Of course, these were the bratty musings of a child growing up in Dallas, whose team was known for greatness. To my knowledge, I'd never seen the Browns play a game on TV. And it's not like they were all that good.

In short, they were old school. Nothing about them was glitzy. They just played the game. It was a philosophy I could support in my fashion choices, even if I had invented it all by myself. So I had to buy the jacket. I mean, it was only $18!

And now I spend my days explaining my ironic choices in raiment to rabid sports fans and proud midwesterners. No, I'm not from Ohio. No, I didn't watch the game. Ah well, at least I have a cool jacket to wear when it's raining.