The Haute Seat: Pan Afrikan Edition

Christopher Lynn | Staff Writer 

It’s the Beard Gawd, aka Deion Slanders bringing you the Haute Seat once again. Coming back from a semester hiatus in full form, I bring you my review of the Pan Afrikan week as it pertains to fashion.

Pan Afrikan week, from the Kick-Off  to the probates, was nothing short of what I expected. From multiple patterned outfits, to variant kicks, it seems like we have learned nothing from my tenure here as Haute Seater. Not shying away from the spotlight, there were numerous offenders just waiting for their time to shine, so here it is.

The Pan Afrikan Kick-Off started the week officially, ironically, I found something very unofficial in the crowd.

I was minding my own business, chillin’ with some of my friends, and into the distance, I spotted some fugazy Olympic VIs. I guess these J’s came from the 2012 Egyptian Olympic Team care package. Apparently this young sir didn’t learn from the September 26th edition of the Haute Seat. Not only did he not learn from yours truly, he also had the nerve to stand and befriend someone wearing the legitimate Olympic VI’s. Though I do give him some credit for having some dignity and buying a non-airmax midsole variant.

The next day of Pan Afrikan was Soul Food Sunday, and out of respect for the Sabbath, I will omit any blasphemies I saw that day and keep it moving.

Monday brought us the AATS Fashion Show, and I can confidently say that no one disappointed me here. This goes for the designers and the attendees. Everyone looked great. Either that, or I was too busy shuffling through tickets to catch anyone slipping.

Moving on to Tuesday, which happened to be a great day to be on the Brickyard, there were many leftover runway looks seen. During the dog days of Spring, a day of 86 degrees, I saw people trying to catwalk the bricks in six inch heels. I mean, hey, I get it; you want to be seen, but wearing high-low skirts, and those “Jeffrey Campbell’s” you got from Charlotte Russe are not the way to do it.

Moving on to Wednesday, where it was another blistering day of heat in the neighborhood. During the Sprummer (yeah, ‘cause you know we don’t really get Spring around here) is where less is more. That even goes for “your” hair, too, seeing how more of those tracks gives you less edges. For some reason big, curly weave is the thing for warmer weather. This baffles me, because doesn’t more hair make your head hot? As my homie Pymp said, “People like to act Dominican in the summer.” Anyway, all of you Diana Losses are supremely catching L’s in this heat.

Thursday was chill. The sun was high, but the temperature was not. Peaceful day if I must say so myself.

It seems like all of the real recklessness starts on Friday for the weekend. Well, the 12th was no different. Pullen Park is a place of joy and tranquility, but this is the Haute Seat, so you know that’s not how it really went down. With another warm day given to us, and all the Jungle Juice in the atmosphere, there was sure to be scantily-clad offenders. From cropped, sleeveless, lycra turtlenecks, to visible tracks, it was just a sight to see.

Going into that night, the wardrobe changes were so bad, Corey Holcomb offered a complementary Burlington trip. Concrete is an unforgiving surface, so walking that rocky road to the Dorton Arena in heels was nothing short of a tightrope performance. Except, there was more spandex and clown make-up worn than usual.

Saturday rolls around quite mildly for the ROAT Carnival. No violators were present; I guess they figured to keep the ratchetry at a low level for a good cause. Kudos to them.

But as soon as the sun sets, the banshees are in full form. You had people taking it back to 2004 with the airbrushed shirts. It’s like their bad decision came full circle when he came back to the Fairgrounds wearing the shirt where he quite possibly got it airbrushed.

Going into the last day, the three probates were the cherry to top off Pan Afrikan. Other than the few trying to get chose in their hoe uniforms, there was quite an atmosphere that couldn’t be beat.

There was a sense of black unity and atmosphere that really lived up to the “Black Homecoming” title. But not digressing too much, this week made me proud. With there not being too many violators, I guess people are really learning from the Haute Seat. Finals are approaching, and I can proudly say I see N.C. State not repeating Fashion Don’ts 101.

I guess it’s the time to ice the Haute Seat.