It’s the day after St. Patrick’s Day, and one question is throbbing on the tips of our collective tongues: Who wore it best?
Intrigued? We bet you are! But if that first query wasn’t enough to send you scrollin’, let us offer up another outrageous Q: Who wore it worst?
To answer these questions definitively, we sent the City Pages "Fashion Street Team" out into Minneapolis and St. Paul in search of the shamrock chic. Each look has been carefully disseminated by our top fashionista (me) and then assigned a corresponding 1-10 rating that we hope you can follow through your Friday fog.
The City Pages 2016 St Patrick’s Day Lookbook: Norm, 64
Beginning with a bang. Norm sets the standard for proper St. Pat’s attire. This is what we imagine God looks like.
It takes genuine enthusiasm and good laugh to rock a hat this disgusting and not make it into the “0” pile. To my chagrin, Laura has both.
Pro-Tip: Don’t wear a hat this disgusting unless you’re Laura.
Red, 40, and Kieran, 55
Commitment is crucial to making a fashion-forward splash on St. Pat’s. For Red that means dyeing your beard a convincingly fair cherry-toned crimson. For Kieran it’s all about co-opting an Irish brogue and staying in character for the whole day. Talk about adding some flair!
This guy was so popular at the Local you’d think he owned the place.
Score: 8, 9
This guy looks like an advertisement for what’s on sale today at Party City.
Pro-Tip: Too many accessories can drag down an otherwise green outfit. Know your swag limits to avoid looking like an alcoholic Christmas tree.
There’s a fine line that separates fun accessories from an ostentatious stunt. Jonathan may have crossed the line with these enormous beads, but you know what? He’s got a great beard.
Tonez, 28, Taz, 34
Kilts occupy dangerous territory. They’re sort of the trouser equivalent of the fedora where the success or failure of the look hangs in the balance of the wearer’s personal moxie. Lucky for these bros they have what it takes to pull off the dastardly man skirts.
Score: 10, 10
This guy needs to be held accountable for the atrocities he’s committed against the enfeebled vulnerable drunk lads and lassies of Minneapolis. Shame on your cart full of bullshit.
A great look and a good boy to boot!
Face Paint is for kids. If you’re over the age of seven, and not in the circus or shielding yourself from enemy fire in a guerrilla war scenario, it’s high time to leave the paint behind.
“But wait,” you cry, “what about my inner child?!”
You know what? Your “inner child” is just a sad, empty social construction that feeds only on your denial, and this little stunt you’re trying to pull isn’t going to shield you from the IRS or the savage sands of time and decay or any of the other host of painful realities that accompany adulthood.
Someday we’ll all be dead and no one will even remember that we were ever here at all.
Totally acceptable application of face paint.
Ugh, I’m getting so bored with these drunk white people. Hey yo, Editor. Think we could spice up this article with that St. Pat’s meme of a snake driving a car?
Perfect. I feel way better now.
This guy was standing not "Where the Streets have No Names"* but on the intersection of 11th and Marquette. In the eyes of this critic he’s having a "Beautiful Day"* outfit-wise.
*References to the Irish rock band U2.
Right back atcha’ T!
Remember what we said about commitment being crucial to pulling off A+ holiday attire? This loser just doesn’t get it. You can’t be a grump while in costume or you’ll bring the whole party down. Pathetic.
Chad, 44, Charlie, 32, Rebecca, 39, Vikki, 54
Look at the cool rainbow! I remember being a kid and hearing this idea of “the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow” and hatching up this plan where I’d devote my whole life to following rainbows and collecting gold and how I’d buy like two of every toy at Toys "R" Us and every video game and processed sugar to eat until my guts fucking bled neon and how this enterprise was going to fund my awesome new kid existence but then my dad told me that rainbows are really just mirages that don’t have “ends” or gold plus there’s actually a scientific explanation for them involving light prisms that my little kid brain would never understand and then crying in the car and now looking back on this whole idea of scheming and expectation building for something that isn’t even real instead of getting a career and having substantive relationships is a perfect metaphor for how my life turned out.
This guy is wavy and cool like the breeze rolling through the lush pastoral Irish countryside of your imagination's choosing.
One move too many makes an atrocity. You could have stopped at the hat and been a respectable six, but then you had to go and break out the Cheez Whiz. This is offensive.
Veronica, 22 (This skirt was seen at O’Donovan's, which was adjacent to Drake Nite at First Avenue.)
Damn! Can I get some fries with that Shamrock Shake? What size? Of course, yeah I’ll take whatever is the largest denomination of fries you sell! Damn girl!
This is a look, I guess. To make a crass reference to the actual St. Patrick of history and mythos I’ll say that outfits like this really drive the trouser snakes out of my pants. Be free little buddies!
Was this picture taken using a fun-house filter or did you really spend your whole winter actively trying to get diabetes, Ryan? You’re killing yourself with food. Disgusting.