It happens without fail every single season. A trend arrives on the scene and, within days, it spreads like mono in a freshman dorm. No one knows where it came from. All people can do is leap on the bandwagon as fast as humanly possible, all the while developing their own versions of the "I've wanted these since ..." tall tale.
Since my freshman year we've seen a number of them come and go: the Vera Bradley quilted bag, the ribbon belt, later replaced by the embroidered ribbon belt (with your choice of small animal or fruit), and the witty state T-shirt (grand prize clearly going to "Idaho, No - U-daho!").
This season it looked like fitted blazers were in front with an early lead on ponchos, until, out of nowhere, came the moccasins.
For those of you unfamiliar, I offer a brief history. First arriving on the international fashion scene in the late '60s, the moccasin found its audience among free-loving hippies and liberal intellectuals. Of course the style itself dates back to the American Indians (also responsible for turquoise, which you'll remember from 2002), but mass production wasn't possible until a small Minnesota based company came out with its version of the leather and suede slippers. Minnetonka moccasins didn't really make a name for themselves until the birth of "The Thunderbird."
As children of the '80s, many of you are probably familiar with this red, white, and black beaded falcon perched on the arch of the moc (yes, that's the official shortened form we're going with). The Thunderbird is to moccasins what the Nike swoosh is to sneakers, Chanel Cs are to couture, and the polo player is to Polo shirts.
The Thunderbird spoke to people with its variety of colors, sizes, and finishes. For many it was a symbol of democracy - a way for feet wide and narrow, suede lovers and leather devotees, black and brown clad alike to walk together in comfort across this great nation.
Minnetonka was experiencing unprecedented success well into the '80s and might have gone on to join Birkenstocks as long-surviving legacies in footwear until a two-inch piece of blue plastic changed the world.
Keds were like nothing we'd ever seen before, and we were hit with a case of Buzz Lightyear syndrome. The effect on mocassins was only comparable to what Cabbage Patch Kids did to Teddy Ruxpin. The Thunderbird became a myth known only to bad home movies and the occasional yard sale.
I consider myself lucky to have been born in the age of the 'Bird. As a child I had a decent collection going - not that I wore anything other than my pink leather pair, but still.
In early June of this year, I found a picture of myself from my third birthday party. While trying to determine whether my thighs were bigger then or now in proportion to my body, I noticed those pretty pink Thunderbirds on my feet. Those were great, I thought aloud (I never think to myself. I've tried. I can't). To the Internet I ran to see if Minnetonka was even still around. Within days I had a new pair of deep brown suede Thunderbirds complete with a new and improved hard sole. Ha, I thought, I will be original. I will strut through the Quad and all will stare in wonder. "Does the Thunderbird fly again?" they will ask.
Now at first I was mocked by both family and friends. So you're going to wear those out? they asked. I mean not just around the house? Like you would put them on in the morning and then go about your day all day with them on?
But come August one of my sisters finally came around. Being the good big sister I am, I lowered my finders fee from 20 to 10 percent and hopped online to get her a pair. What I found will haunt me 'til the day I die.
"Due to the appearance of Minnetonka Thunderbird Moccasins in multiple fashion magazines, they have become one of this year's hottest fashion items." I fell over ... and then rolled around a little bit for dramatic effect.
Who is responsible for this? Who decided it would be Minnetonka moccasins this year, for the love of God? How will anyone ever believe me now! I'll have to wear the damn shoes at move-in or, better yet, tape those signs all over campus like people do for their friends' 21st birthdays - "Look who had these first!"
Well, within weeks they were everywhere, and by that I mean Steve Madden came out with his own version so it was all over. I'm seeing more and more pairs across campus as people abandon the Rainbows for more appropriate, cold weather footwear.
At first I was bitter. Defeated again, I thought (this of course in reference to the fact that eight years ago at a bowling alley in Manalapan, N.J., I announced that I was going to buy real bowling shoes to wear. We all know how that turned out).
But those cute little tassles, that smooth brushed suede, and those rich colors won me over just as they did nearly 20 years ago. Frankly, I'm happy for the moccasin. Like the bell-bottoms and chandelier earring before them, they refused to die. Still, I can't help but wonder how they pulled it off. Who was, as philosophers would say in reference to God (totally valid comparison) the first mover? How is it that these trends form?
In the end all is fair in love of fashion. Besides, I have yet to see anyone with my original Thunderbirds - now safely on a six month back-order.
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