That’s So 1975

Oh, man, 1975.

Not just 1975. It’s 1975 distilled and congealed into a solid block of Qiana. Tree-trunk pantlegs revealing the occasional stack heel. Irish setter hairdos. It’s likely that these fellers have ears, but there’s no evidence. Tom Selleck tried to buy that guy’s mustache, but it wasn’t for sale, and he had a grow a thin, effeminate substitute himself. The drummer is embedded in his hair like an asteroid that hit a fuzzy planet. Hang glider collars on shirts that had never even shared a shelf with a natural fiber. Any fondue stains come right out of that stuff. You know, if you have a terrible fondue accident while reaching inexpertly for the quiche in the conversation pit. The piano player of course has the requisite bizarre gloss on a tuxedo, which wouldn’t reach full flower until a few years later when they just printed the pattern on a T-shirt. The belts were leather straps capable of towing a Jeep out of ditch.

And in case you missed it, people could actually sing and play their instruments in 1975.