judge city

RIP Juicy Couture. I remember when I first tried you on. Your terry-cloth sweatpants hugged each of my awkward-middle-school-newly-formed-girl-curves in all of the semi-right places. I remember when I first wrangled my mom into buying me one of your sweatsuits at retail price and then subsequently being forced to scour the sales racks for your thin cotton tees and velour track jackets. Though you were expensive and smelled entitled, you were always a lady to me.

#RIP

The obit on The Cut does a great job of tying the appeal of Juicy Couture to that of the early 2000’s rising tabloids celebrities. Its slideshow captures socialites and celebrities donning Juicy tracksuits like some paparazzi-approved uniform. Only now can I really see why Juicy was so appealing to me at 13. Juicy sweats were the great equalizer between the public and the stars. As a 13-year-old I was wearing the same outfit Paris Hilton was and as a teenage fan of The Simple Life, does it get much cooler? If it was good enough for Paris and Nicole, then who else would it be perfect for? What other female age group would benefit from the zeitgeist of unabashed branding, comfort, and celebrity? Middle school girls.

And there was nothing cooler than Juicy Couture when I was in middle school. Getting my first Juicy sweatsuit was the ultimate. I remember I wore my new hot pink suit and matching ‘Viva La Juicy’ tee to school (coordinated with two of my friends in their respective Juicy tracksuits) and feeling like a million bucks. Seriously, I’m pretty sure Ludacris’ ‘Move Bitch’ played as we walked down the hall in slow motion.

How I coveted J.Lo’s Juicy suit…and her dance moves in this vid 

Though ridiculously overpriced, Juicy was also a fresh break from middle school insecurity. Juicy wasn’t worn to impress the boys (though let’s be real, nothing is sexier than an awkward, pubescent girl in head-to-toe hot pink terry-cloth), and thus, when we wore our sweatsuits, we felt super confident. Hello! We were comfortable! We were wearing SWEATSUITS for Bloomingdale’s sake! Finally, us girls could wear sweatsuits like the boys AND it was cool and fashionable!

However, part of me looks back in disgust at my greed for Juicy. The begging of my poor mom to buy me more–it seemed there was never enough Juicy that I could own. Now, as a working person, I don’t know how my mom found it in her heart to buy me that ish on retail. Juicy was not a good addiction to have, not only because it was stupidly expensive, but because it was a status symbol. If there is one thing you should not get middle school girls hooked on (especially in Westchester County), it’s status symbols. Like the Tiffany tag before it, it was only a matter of time before Juicy became a catty game of fakes and who had the most. And it’s departure will not only make fashion a bit easier on the eyes, but it will also be one less reminder of the things that fueled my adolescent materialistic pining.Middle School Me would be shocked, Present Me is selfishly relieved.

Yet, Middle School Me and Present Me could agree on one thing: it’s comforting to see the empire going out with dignity; quiet like the gentle swish of its terry-cloth sweatpants.