Nevada City, CA — Bernard Crouse, a gay man from the city and self-proclaimed arbiter of fashion, was dismayed by what he saw on a recent trip to Nevada City. I interviewed him over vodka mimosas with brunch at a popular local restaurant.

“I was stunned,” he declared as he leaned in closer. “My dear, you have no idea what a shock I just experienced,” he added.

As a life-long fashionista, Mr. Crouse had high expectations for his first visit.

“When I saw this town had been on the cover of Sunset Magazine, I just naturally assumed it was a destination to see what fashion trends were ‘haute-haute-haute!’ in this part of the state. However, I was horrified by the sheer amount of couture disasters I saw in my short time here.”

He continued, “I strolled down Broad Street to find something, anything, fashion-worthy. As I took a call on my phone I stopped in front of a store window. I almost dropped my phone in fright! Staring at me from the window was something hairy with glass eyes… and teeth! It suddenly hit me that this shop sold animal skin things that were meant to be worn. By actual people! Or Hmmm, perhaps there is an underground Bear community here… Note to self: Must investigate this!”

“Continuing down Commercial Street I was transported into a wild pastiche of fashion through the decades. Flannel shirts, overalls, porn ‘tashes, Don Johnson hair, Crocs, mohawks, rasta hair with all manner of things in it, muumuus, tie-dye shirts, studded boots, mullets, Doc Martins… and not nearly enough man buns. Darling, the sheer number of tragic fashion decisions were simply too much!”

“Had I descended into the Fashion Hell circle of Dante’s Inferno? The one where there are a bunch of ripped, well-oiled men with bodies like gods dragging chains to tie up and punish those who flout fashion rules? (Oh no, that’s not it, sorry… I’m reflecting on last Saturday night at the club. But I digress…)”

Nevada City Fashion Dystopia

Mr. Crouse continued on in this vein, finally describing Nevada City as a fashion dystopia, and its citizens’ fashion sense “beyond appalling.”

“Yet it would take so little to make this a fabulous fashion destination. One call to the ‘Queer Eye’ team to pull the whole look together and this nightmare could end.”

But the worst criticism was yet to come as he ordered his sixth vodka mismosa to recover from the visual assault upon his aesthetic sensibilities.

“What sent me over the edge was the man wearing Birkenstocks with white socks,” he declared. “It’s just NOT DONE. It’s a portal to the End of Days. When that last horseman comes riding in, he’s gonna say, ‘you there are about to be smited… those socks have got to go!’ ”

“Nevada City is irredeemable and will never recover as long as such abominations are allowed to be seen in public.”

“It was fun sharing a kiki with you, my dear, but I shall NOT be back… Unless, of course, there really are some Bears here, in which case, have them call me… Ta!”