Rivall

Let me be the first to admit that up until a year ago I proudly wore friendship bracelets. You know, the ones that Klutz taught you how to craft? It wasn’t until I noticed that the braided token of love from my BFF was a little young for a college senior to sport on a regular basis, and sadly, I retired my Klutz bracelets.

And that’s why when this curious Silly Bandz fad exploded onto our demographic. I was surprised I wasn’t more inclined to slap them on my wrist and walk around pretending I was indeed the sickest bitch on the block because my naked wrist was now adorned with some flimsy rubber.

And then I took two steps back and fostered a monumental thought – Silly Bandz are incredibly ridiculous, and not in a good Lady Gaga dressed as a My Little Pony kind of way.

Let’s put aside for a second that these bracelets are made for people half our age who still shop in the kids department and wear colored bands on their braces, and focus on the really disturbing aspect of this whole fixation – the shapes.

First of all, you can’t even tell what shape you’re wearing when you’ve got it suffocating your wrist, so what’s the point in manically collecting them and subsequently bragging about which shapes you’ve earned/borrowed/traded/bought? All I see when I look at someone’s Silly Band raped arm is a kaleidoscope mess of tangled rubber. There’s absolutely no way to distinguish if you’re wearing a dolphin or a high-heel shoe.

Unless of course you take them off one by one and proudly place them in the middle of your palm so your friends can decipher the shape that’s producing those hideously embarrassing welts on your wrist.

And, as if animal and guitar shaped bracelets weren’t enough, the brains at Silly Bandz have come down with a mean case of the fever – Justin Bieber bracelets are now available for your humiliation. Thank gawd! Truthfully there’s no amount of snarkiness that could pick this latest revelation apart. But if people weren’t aware of your Biebs obsession before, as soon as you reveal your “I heart JB” bracelet, you’ve achieved a Tina Fey level of Bieber adoration that demands a certain measure of respect.

The fact that you can buy these EVERYWHERE doesn’t help those of us who are anti-Silly either. At least our beloved Beanie Babies had the decency to be sold only in stores like Hallmark. These Bandz whore themselves out anywhere and everywhere. What’s the fun in collecting something if it’s easy to find? There’s no Nancy Drew-like chase if all you have to do is stroll on over to Walgreens and pick up that new pack of Bandz you’ve been lusting for.

In the end, these will never compare to friendship bracelets of our nostalgic Klutz crafted past. Why? Because these shapes aren’t made with loving tenderness by your gal pal – they’re manufactured by some emotionless steel machine in Tokyo.

So please, stop stealing these Bandz from those brats you babysit.

Witman

If there’s anything we’ve learned over the years it’s that what makes sense doesn’t always quantify what is trendy. Jelly shoes were uncomfortable, backwards hats have never shielded our eyes from a single ray of sunshine, Pogs were circular disks of cardboard and Beanie Babies were the tiny, adorable college tuition investments that never got played with. Yet here we are, inexplicably, in the Age of the Silly Band.

For those reading who possess a distinct neglect for fashionable wrist-wear, I will first give a basic illustration of the Silly Band. They are essentially small, colorful rubber shapes – you can get anything from a kangaroo to a rocket ship to a Wisconsin ‘W.’ When stretched, a person will wear multiple “bandz” at a time as bracelets. These popular items usually come in packs of 24 for five dollars and are sold EVERYWHERE. They may then collect as MANY as fiscally possible, trade them with all of their friends and even make a new friend by trading. Simple, but therein lies the Silly Bandz frenzy.

Picture this: You are a young, up-and-coming rapper. Sadly (no, I guess the word I’m looking for is “fortunately”), you don’t have a whole lot of experience with women, prison, hustling, etc. to write your lyrics about just yet. So, clearly, someone in that position would want to write about what’s really impactful in their life, something extremely cool they would need to express. For this Lil Wayne hopeful, the most apparent subject of choice would be a rap solely dedicated to the wearing, sharing and caring of Silly Bandz. There is a video on YouTube by one Young Siege; it currently has 202,742 views. Probably more by the time you read this. This song is unarguably the work of a novice, but it is evident from lines like “Everybody looking when i rock it at the park/ Everybody stares when it glows in the dark/ I ain’t childish cuz i rock some Silly Bandz/ I just put it on cuz it looks good on my hands” that Young Siege has the self-confidence that we should be striving to instill upon young teens.

Although one would think from this example that much good can certainly come from the Silly Bandz fad, some have already expressed opposition to the phenomena – a major tipoff that Silly Bandz are destined for the same longevity and greatness as the Tomagotchi or Giga Pets, which were questioned by some in their time as well. This optimistic signal resides in events that happened early on in the Silly Bandz craze; Time reported in May of this year that many school districts nationwide had found Silly Bandz to be a distraction in school, and were causing theft and fights over the items. However, the article says they are consenting to “monthly Silly Bandz days,” which foreshadow a reality check on such a ban. The bands aren’t meant to be a serious threat to safety and education – they’re silly! And they can’t be more distracting than the notes those same teachers and administrators passed when they were in school. Speaking of which, Silly Bandz are just as hip and popular among a surprising number of adults.

Think it’s just a dumb, insipid fad? Well, just think, what’s the difference in logic of Silly Bandz from, say, Silly Putty – proper usage of the letter S? Shit’s overrated.