I love pants. Jeans, chinos, joggers – you name it, I wear it. The allure of showing off my prize-winning calves in a pair of shorts on a hot summer day pales in comparison to the way my denim-clad string bean legs contrast with the crisp golden hues of Fordham’s fall foliage. Personally, I like to cuff the legs of my pants twice; one cuff would cause my trousers to ride low on my ankles and awkwardly graze my Stan Smiths, but three cuffs would expose too much ankle, thereby compromising my warmth and masculinity. All cuffs aside, the headphones I hold in my left pocket are the most crucial component of any walk around campus I have ever found myself on, and nine times out of ten I could have been found listening to the same genre: anti-pop.
