Remember wearing fanny packs?
I do.
Fanny packs were manufactured pouches of canvas or leather that buckled around the waist and let people live out their fantasy of being marsupials. My fanny pack was turquoise and yellow, and it ensured that my wallet was accessible and that girls were not. My mother wrote my name in it with black magic marker so that it would not get mixed up with some other kid’s turquoise and yellow fanny pack.
My fanny pack’s greatest journey was on a three-day class trip to Washington, D.C. For months I sold candy bars, saved my allowance, and begged my parents to write a check just so that I could wear my fanny pack to the top of the Washington Monument. I remember being more excited about having my Go-Bots camera and Bronx Zoo wallet at my fingertips than I was about visiting America’s greatest souvenir shops.
I think I will describe fanny packs to my children the way my parents described bell bottom pants to me: everyone wore them. All the kids on that class trip had fanny packs. I won’t go so far as to say that you were not cool without a fanny pack, but it certainly took you a lot longer to get your $10 out for an “authentic” copy of the Declaration of Independence without one.
We were at the Air and Space Museum, looking at the “Spirit of ’76” and wondering whether they served peanuts on it, when a friend of mine tapped me on the shoulder. “Look, Mark,” he said, pointing, “that’s kid’s wearing your fanny pack.” And, lo and behold, there was another kid with a turquoise and yellow fanny pack. He was walking away and I followed him into one of the simulators in the Flight Simulator Zone, where you could say “Folks, this is your captain speaking,” into a microphone and then see how creatively you could explain that the plane was not going to take off for eleven hours. It was dark in the simulator and I could not tell turquoise from other shades of blue. And when I emerged, he was gone. For the rest of that trip I kept an eye out for my fanny pack doppelgänger. I thought I saw him by the Lincoln Memorial, but it was just my own reflection in the Reflecting Pool. I never saw him again, and when I returned from the trip I retired my fanny pack.
I hear that fanny packs are back. They’ve added features like cup holders and USB ports, and it is rumored that Lady Gaga wears a fanny pack made of pastrami. I’ve even considered getting a new fanny pack just to hold all my rewards cards. I saw the perfect fanny pack in a catalog and got very excited. It was black, and leather, and had a designer’s insignia emblazoned on the front. I took the picture to show my wife what I wanted for my birthday. But when she looked at it, she looked at me, and, without a word, slowly shook her head.
That is hysterical! That fanny pack you described wanting for your birthday sounded glorious. Your wife must not have much fashion sense if she wouldn’t buy it for you. I hope she got you something at least as nice instead.
Thank you. And my wife has plenty of fashion sense – I think she just wanted to buy me something else, which was much better than a fanny pack.
Well, not everyone had fanny packs. I didn’t. But I wanted one. (Yep, I was THAT uncool.)
I hope the deprivation was not too painful, though it seems like you survived with your sense of humor intact. Maybe you should try one on just to see how it feels, and imagine what could have been.
Are koalas marsupials? Because I want to hold one. A koala, I mean. I will store it in my fanny pack with a leaf and it’ll feel right at home.
The Internet tells me that koalas are, in fact, marsupials. So you’d have a pouch within a pouch. Just make sure the fanny pack has a designer label in case your koala sees one its friends riding in another person’s fanny pack.
I missed the fanny pack craze. Oh, I knew they were out there, but for some reason and through some unimaginable one-time sense of the cultural pulse during my childhood, I managed to avoid being a typical dork. Great post.
Thanks. I think each person must sit out at least one dorky fad. It’s like a rule.
Haha, wow! How could I forget the fanny pack days? We weren’t allowed to go on family vacations without them. Unfortunately, I think you’re right that they’re coming back. I was a little disturbed when I saw a mid-30’s guy wearing one the other day. Fanny packs definitely need to stay in the 80’s!
Some people just can’t let go.
I believe fanny pack are out now but satchels are in. Indiana Jones wheres one.
And don’t forget attaches!
Are you kidding? I work in a wonderful vacation destination town, and still see fanny packs on a daily basis! Don’t underestimate the determination of the vacationing population to enjoy stylish convenience when spending time several zipcodes away from home. (And, I took a top-of-the-line black leather model with me to England once in the 80s. So fabulous I was!)
I wonder if the distance from home and friends inclines people to express their true desire to unite fashion and convenience.
Ah, I think “distance from home and friends” inclines us to toss out fashion and do what works! Which explains why I’ll wear a bathing suit when I am on a beach on the east coast, where I know no one, but no way will I wear one in my own town no matter how badly I’d like to go swimming!
Both my hubby and I had fanny packs… we had small ones, and bigger ones, and ‘cool’ ones for hiking… oh, yeah. Now I love taking my teen daughter to the store, and whenever she sees something “fashionable” she likes, then I tell her “oh, yeah, I used to have/wear one of those”… it sucks the cool right out of it for her!! Great fun!