Macho Dirt and Pacho Shirts

So, it's been a long time since I've posted on this here old blog. Thanks to everyone (both of you) who asked about The Boomstick and wondered if it were still up and running. I actually wasn't sure I remembered my password to login and post again, but luckily Password1234 still works. (Just kidding, my password is totally I<3Fassbender69. Very complex and secure.)

It's been a rough year, nation-wise. I, like many of you, have been tumbling down a long slope of disbelief and denial and depression and disappointment that has finally dulled into a sort of achy malaise. I won't say I've been too sad to write, because that's like saying you're too drunk to write: not a thing. But after last year's election, the internet was so inundated with writing, so saturated with thought-pieces and exposes and excoriations and Pantsuit Nation that there didn't seem to be a lot of room left. I didn't feel voiceless; if anything I felt over-represented in the internet world (and in the popular vote - zing!). So many people were speaking out with voices that were stronger, more poignant, less privileged, better-written, and more well-read than mine, it didn't seem to matter what I wrote here. So I didn't.

But I read a lot that a lot of you wrote and I am grateful. The internet and all of you lovely people writing on it, everyone who committed to sharing ideas and activism, everyone committed to truth-telling and personal-story-sharing, got me through it. And here I am.

Also I re-watched all of Game of Thrones (Season 1 - 7) so I was pretty busy, tho.

When you take a hiatus from writing you feel some pressure to come back with something really strong and really meaningful. But when you take a super long hiatus from writing, apparently that pressure subsides totally. Because today I'm here to talk to you about something that, while near and dear to my heart, is completely frivolous and dumb. Because that, friends, is what this damn Boomstick does best.

I want to talk to you about Pacho's wardrobe on Narcos.

Have you guys watched Narcos on Netflix? It's excellent. The first two seasons followed real-life DEA Agents Steve Murphy (Boyd Holbrook) and Javier Pena (Pedro Pascal, aka Oberyn Martell from GoT) as they take down Pablo Escobar and Medellin's cocaine cartel. The third season features Pena, who was always the better, hotter character (I<3Pena69?) taking down the Cali cartel that remains after Escobar's (spoiler) death. 

The Cali cartel has four godfathers: Grandfather Gilberto, Sitcom Dad Miguel, New York Immigrant Chepe, and Gayfather Pacho.  

Pacho, is a hardcore, openly-gay gangster who, like Omar Little before him, challenges preconceptions about homosexuality by perpetrating acts of raw violence. Instead of Omar's comparatively-tame shotgun, Pacho's choice of weapon is to draw and quarter his enemy on motorcycles. Instead of Omar's comparatively-lame duster coat, Pacho's intimidating wardrobe is made up of literally the most amazing shirts I've ever seen. Season three of Narcos has been my favorite for many reasons, but just kidding the entire reason is because of Pacho's shirts. So here is an ode to the greatest gangster wardrobe of all time.

Pacho rocking a delicate floral snowflake-style pattern because the only heat he feels is from the DEA's increasing pressure on his cartel:

Honorable mention this guy's shirt, which sadly will be ruined shortly:

 I think he owns this shirt in more than one color?

 This shirt pattern was my background on my Windows 95:

I love this winsome Asian-inspired pattern for a day of light work around the house, drinking tequila shorts with your no-good brother, and plotting new ways to torture unfortunate gringos who cross your path:

That shiny tropical number you put on when you don't foresee your day devolving into a multi-fatality shootout:

The perfect wardrobe for kicking back with an old friend while observing an active firefight mere meters from your face. Bonus: upon close inspection, this pattern appears to be made of interlocking sperms.

And the iconic Pacho shirt, the outfit you choose to reign terror on Cali's innocent people, the shirt you pick out the next time you're blowing down a door and killing everyone at a church service, and of course your promotional cover-shoot wardrobe:

I defy (by defy I mean encourage) you to point me to anyone who occupies the cross-section of hardcore and haute couture harder than this guy. The way I see it:

And I'm clearly not alone, because AMAZINGLY there is this whole company called that SELLS SHIRTS THAT LOOK LIKE PACHO'S. And they DO look like Pacho's, and they are AMAZING!

This one's in VELVET because if Pacho doesn't care about the oppressive Colombian heat, neither should you:

 Is it a shirt? Is it a vest? Trick question. It's everything:

 So many words that the are no words:

 And the come in short sleeves! Guys, you're welcome, your holiday shopping for that hard-to-buy-for gangster in your life is complete! 'Til next time.
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© 2015 by Alison

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