Yesterday when I popped into Cambridge to buy a pair of jeans I noticed the Skank Level was dangerously high. I’m well aware that this historic city is home to a plethora of different people, from rich overseas students and tourists to locals and the toffs from wealthy families. The streets are awash with a rich variety of interesting, beautiful, colourful and exotic people. But this does not include The Skank.
The volume of Skanks was particularly high this weekend. Or maybe I’ve only recently noticed it. Either way it made me feel itchy. Back in January 2012 I wrote a piece about a Scrubbers – Chav, aka The Scrubber, and whilst Skank’s do share some similarities with their Scrubber brethren, they do have some subtle differences.
I haven’t had a rant for a while so brace yourself. And before I get started I should point out that I know I’m generalizing here, and there will always be people who aren’t Skanky, but appear that way, which if you think about it is pretty much the same thing. In today’s society image is everything, so looking like a Skank gives people the impression you are one.
What is a Skank?
Urban Dictionary has this to say:
“Derogatory term for a (usually younger) female, implying trashiness or tackiness, lower-class status, poor hygiene, flakiness, and a scrawny, pockmarked sort of ugliness. May also imply promiscuity, but not necessarily. Can apply to any race, but most commonly used to describe white trash.
You know that girl Crystal that lives in the trailer park? She’s a total skank.”
If you want to know what a Skank is simply Google it. You’ll get the idea. Skanks, like Scrubbers, are the dregs of society. The equivalent of that eye mucus you get when you wake up.
Clothes & Standards
I was encouraged to check out the cheap jeans on offer in Primark before I paid out way more than I needed in a proper shop. I’m 36 years old and some would say I’m way to old to be shopping in what is obviously a youth club store. But hey, a bargain is a bargain right? It could also be said that I’m out of touch with young fashion trends, social expectations and peer pressure.
Um, no. I’m not one of these types who reach their 30’s and settles down with endless cups of tea and a nice brown cardigan to watch banal TV programming whilst moaning about the state of the nation. I have an ear-ring and listen to crazy shit on the radio. I play video games and amble around YouTube looking for bizarre videos to rofl at.
However, despite still keeping one foot splashing in popular social stuff I am comfortable with my age, and that means I have standards. Actually they’ve always been there but I’m less likely to settle or go with the flow compared to my teens or twenties. I’m never embarrassed to speak up in any social group despite going against the flow. If someone doesn’t like what I have to say they can disagree but it won’t stop me from telling it like it is.
I think many people would like to pop back in time and do it all over again from a certain age. Sure, I’ll have a slice of that if Marty McFly drops by with the Doc in tow. That doesn’t mean I’m bitter or consumed with regret about my life choices up to this point. I think it would a blast to go back and check out the past. I am happy with my age and point in life, and what makes me even happier is that I am able to say that. I still have ambitions, dreams and hopes, they’re simply not effected by hormones, peer pressure or what some idiot says on Facebook.
Now that’s out of the way, on to the Skank Classification!
The Primark Experience
Primark is the UK’s top retailer of dirt cheap clothing. It resembles a jumble sale (or yard sale for my Yankie-doodle-Dandy pals!) and panders mainly to hormone riddled, potty mouthed, brainless teenagers and dirty council house, minimum wage, trampy teenage wife with 2 kids types. It gives the shopper the opportunity to get the exact outfit as everyone else in their social group, despite the fact they think they’re being an individual. It’s a mecha for all Skank kind.
The Cambridge store is pretty large, over 3 floors of cheap tat crafted in sweat shops by 7-year-old kids who have never heard of Primark. On my way up the stairs I was passed by 9 employees. NINE! And none was older than 20. I noticed the abundance of spots, shit hair styles, raucous laughter about nothing, and the shoddy way they wore their cheap Primark uniform. At the second floor I stopped to take in the sea of dishevelled, dirty, cheap people grabbing handfuls of clothes seemingly at random.
Had I missed something? Was the world of retail coming to end in a couple of hours and these were the last moments to grab clothes before retail imploded in a puff of BOGOF smoke?
Nope. These were Skanks. Primark addicts. I spotted some bright funky t-shirts and picked my way through the crowds. A big sign said EVERYTHING £3! My cynical side immediately told me it was a con. I picked up a t-shirt. It was crap quality. Thin material, poor stitching. The sort of thing that would withstand 3-4 washed then fall apart.
I moved to the jeans section. I found a pair I liked after rummaging through the mountain of denim piled up on the shelves. A guy shoved me out of the way, grunted something and snatched a pair out of a pile. I chuckled to myself. Idiot. He was dressed in clothes I had already walked past. Like I say, addicts. I thought I best try these jeans on, then I realised the only fitting room for the entire store was on the ground floor.
When I got there the queue was roughly 30 people long. I wasn’t going to wait that long so I decided to take a chance and buy my £8 jeans, take them back if they didn’t fit. They don’t. Too tight around the calves. No big deal.
What do Primark staff do?
Well, judging from what I saw, not very much. And they certainly don’t look anything like the smiling goons pictured to the left. The only smile I saw was a vague smirk when employees muttered to one another as they lurched around the store in small herds.
The store had a ridiculous amount of staff. I counted about 25 on the second floor alone. And none of them seemed in a hurry to actually do work. And not one of them spoke to me, and that included the guy on the checkout – vacant stare, dirty finger nails, spots, tiny bit of boy stubble sticking out of his chin. I think he grunted at one point but I couldn’t make out if he was practising his words, burping the remnants of last nights Sambuca haze or had just enjoyed a McDonald’s induced fart. Probably all 3.
I saw a couple of teenage girls trying on shoes. They were sat amidst a small mountain of foot wear dumped on the floor next to the empty racks. I estimated the combined cost of their clothes to be no more than £30. That in itself isn’t a bad thing. With the economy the way it is I understand how they can see the sense in buying cheap clothing based on their meagre income. However, it doesn’t make any sense. You buy cheap shit that you have to replace every couple of weeks/months and in the end you pay more than if you bought quality to last.
But today’s youth is all about conformity, whether they disagree or not. Kids have to buy the latest crap to fit in and that means buying cheap junk that tells their mates they’re cool and socially acceptable and individual yet easily identifiable to the rest of Skank kind.
Back to the staff. The checkout workers did their job without an iota of humour or sincerity. The rest of the youth club wandered aimlessly around the store, occasionally picking up a single item of clothing from an immense pile on the floor, folding it badly and thrusting it back into a pile on the shelf. Their job done they shuffle away to lol with their fellow colleagues.
Not one of them looked me in the eye. Every time a spotty kid walked by he/she would stare at the floor. I even turned around a few times to watch them lift their heads up after they had hurried past. It was funny to see them do this time after time on their way to somewhere less crowded.
Primark customers: “Fat pikeys!”
Before I started writing this post I Googled Primark and found that even the employees think their customers are idiots, skanks, scrubbers, chav’s, pikey’s, townies…and so on. Facebook has given employees the chance to give their opinion of their customers:
“Twat customers,” said one employee in regard to customers leaving clothes in a mess, and how she wanted to: “Drop kick them into the home ware department.”
Another employee moaned on Facebook about “hefty shoppers” who need “to lose some fucking weight.” And another gem about the Primark experience: “the money is shit and the place is a market for pikeys.”
Funny thing is that whilst this is very unprofessional, it is in fact true. Primark customers are nasty little goblins. They wear their Primark clothes to go shop in Primark. I failed to spot a single person in that store who’s knuckles weren’t dragging on the floor.
The Big Deal.
Obesity is a problem in the UK. What makes me laugh then frown is how so many girls, and yes it is mainly girls, think they look perfectly fine by wearing clothes way too small for them.
I lost count of the number of teenage girls stomping around dressed in see through, skimpy clothing, vest tops and bra’s way too small, exposing rolls of fat hanging over their £2 leg wear. It was like being in a bakers and watching dough rise around twine. I saw a girl walking in Cambridge that appalled me. She resembled Snooki from Jersey Shore, only with that special English Skank twist. She was short, dumpy, wore knee-length shiny black boots, a short denim mini-skirt so the fat wobbling on her thighs was very obvious. Her hair and make-up was clown like and her saggy triple chin, and rolls of fat under her tight vest top said “I eat McDonald’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
But the funniest and most horrific thing about her appearance was her vest top. White with pink letters that said: “GAWJUS!” And swinging under it were two pudgy udders that bounced on her stomach fat. I can only conclude that she wasn’t dressed like that for comedic or ironic effect but she really did think she was a looker.
I’m all for being comfortable in your own skin.
Why should you be embarrassed of your weight? Everyone’s different so what’s the big deal? I’ve had weight issues, still do to some extent, so I feel perfectly qualified to comment on anyone’s size or state of health.
The big deal is that our society is breeding a generation of fat, lazy teenagers who want something for nothing, who think they deserve to get what they want and when you challenge them about anything the standard response is: “Oi fuckface, you can’t disespect me like that.” And no that wasn’t a spelling mistake. They really do say it that way. Skanks.
The bottom line.
You might think I’m bashing overweight people but I’m not. I’m bashing this section of society for everything they stand for and believe in. Primark and similar high street shops pander to those with no hope and no future. They provide losers with cheap glossy clothes to enable these morons to feel good about themselves. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with feeling good about yourself but it’s the ethos or attitude that feeds the Skank Ideology.
There are plenty of times in history where the older generation has looked down on the younger one for its attitude toward work, social behaviour and moral values. So the Skank Plague is no different, right? Except it is, dear blog reader, it really is.
The Skank Ethos Top 10.
- # 1. Skanks act like they’re the best thing since the last best thing, which probably wasn’t that good since they’re the best thing ever!
- # 2. They lol about nothing with their mates, in person and via social networking. They need to share every last shred of their lives with everyone in their social group. Even mundane topics like: WNT 2C [insert latest movie here] BAZZA PULLD SHAZZA IN THE CINEMA. FUCKIN RIOT! WAS BARE FUNNY!! The status update will receive, amongst other pointless replies, a good dose of LOL!!!!!!! and STANDARD!!!! Thus encouraging the perpetual sharing of banality.
- # 3. Skanks give everyone they pass a look as if to say: “What ya lookin at? Wanna make somethin of it?” To the point where I see most people over the age of 25 or so looking at anything other than Skanks they pass on the street. They don’t want or need the hassle of some clown faced Skank idiot demanding what they’re looking at.
- # 4. Skanks have no stake in society because it’s simply there to feed their ego and false sense of self-worth. They want something for nothing.
- # 5. Reality TV is hugely responsible for creating this mind-set in young people.
- # 6. Skank girls plaster their faces in layers of fake tan, foundation and enough make-up to make a clown rofl. You can always tell a Skank girl even if she’s wearing a sack because there’s a tell-tale line around their necks where the dark brown crap they smear on their faces comes to an end. Skank girls don’t have the mental wherewithal to ensure the best way to make fake tan half way believable is to smear it below the neck line.
- # 7. Skank boys must wear skinny jeans. They must have a hair style that looks similar to their mates but with 1% difference in the cut. It must be floppy, gelled and floppy, flicked back and forward at the same time so they can only see out of one eye. Skank boys have no problem telling a girl they’d “Hit that” and take great pride in getting “noshed off” by some Skank girl they met an hour ago.
- # 8. Skanks are an ego wrapped in a t-shirt. There’s little or no respect for anyone else they pass by in their herds. All they seem to care about is what’s happened later, who’s doing who, what music they can play out of their tinny little iPhone speakers, who’s going to some nappy party later on, and what so and so said on FB about so and so noshing so and so off.
- # 9. Skanks breed. Get Skanky. Get naked. Get laid. Get pregnant. Breed a baby Skank. Rinse and repeat.
The most worrying thing about Skanks.
# 10. One day these moronic, burger munching, vodka chugging, lolling, brain-dead sloths will be running the country. I suppose the educated types will take top positions that matter, Prime Minister etc, but Skanks will be there too, making decisions for the elderly, deciding on important financial issues, going to war with a country that doesn’t pose a threat in order to steal oil. Okay, that’s already happened but it’ll happen again.
And if you’re still uncertain about what a Skank looks like, take a moment to look at these wonderful images that highlight the appalling section of our society we have helped create.