Summer of 2008. I didn't think I'd be stepping into the '80s. If I did, I would've worn my Cazals and KO Jordan 1's.A friend and I were walking down a crowded Newbury Street on a typical Boston summer afternoon. We get towards the shitty end of it -- locals know what I'm talking about, where the rank bike couriers and self-deprecating art school dropouts sit around on the platform next to Starbucks and JP Licks -- when a minor leaguer is clearly spotted. Appearing to be in her early college years and, from the looks of it, hoping to find her identity, this young lady hopes to relive the decade she never got to fully experience by picking out a wardrobe that has been laid out by the brilliant minds of Urban Outfitters. Words to live by: You're not special. You're not unique. You're not an individual. Stop trying so hard, and it won't come across so noticeably.
Chances of making it to the majors of NYC: 0 -- You have a few years to go. Don't sweat it.
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