Sorry sagging trend shouldn't worry fashion police

I've been wondering for some time why teenage boys are wearing their pants so low these days. I have no desire to see their underwear, and it seems kind of silly that they have to waddle around to keep their pants from falling to the ground.

So I decided to loosen my belt, lower my pants and do some research on this latest fashion craze.

My colleague Ricardo Herrera hit the streets to explore the origin of sagging. He says that teenagers from low-income areas never intended to make a fashion statement by wearing baggy hand-me-downs. They never expected kids from the suburbs to adopt their look.

But in cities from Palo Alto to Saratoga, kids with the money to buy clothes that fit are spending top dollar on clothes that are way too loose.

Photo by Miriam Alvarado

Thomas Niemasik, a senior at Menlo School in Menlo Park, said he started wearing his pants low because he just wanted to look cool.

"I started mainly because I saw other people doing it," Thomas, 17, said. "I was never a real socialite, so this was a way for me to sort of gain a bit of similarity to the cool kids."

Of course, looking cool never hurts when it comes to meeting girls. Unless, of course, the girls think it looks stupid.

Elena Park, a 17-year-old student at Cupertino High School, said that sagging is "not appealing" and "kind of disrespectful."

But Jeff Cabebe, 18, of San Jose, said sagging is "more of a comfort thing. It's the same thing with my friends. It's not to be badass and show off, just to relax and be comfortable."

Again, I don't get it. For two days, I tried to wear my pants way below my waist. But there was nothing comfortable about it. I was constantly watching my step in fear that my pants would plummet to my feet.

Maybe it's just me. But I don't think so.

Photo by Miriam Alvarado

There's a politician in Louisiana who is so adamant about doing away with sagging that he sponsored a bill in the state legislature to make it a crime. Rep. Derrick Shepherd's bill proposed a fine of up to $500 or as much as six months in jail for anyone caught wearing pants below the waist and "thereby exposing his skin or intimate clothing."

Give me a break. What's next? Fashion police dressed in skin-tight leather, cruising around in Mini Coopers? Instead of guns, they could carry rulers in their holsters to quickly measure the distance from my waist to the top of my pants.

"It was a stupid bill," said Joe Cook, executive director of American Civil Liberties Union of Louisiana. "It didn't fit the constitutionally allowable definition of obscenity, and it could be used as a pretext for racial profiling."

And it already had a loophole roomier than the empty space in a sagger's Levi's.

"They have a huge lobby, so we were going to exempt plumbers," Shepherd told me.

I was surprised by his sincerity. But what amazed me most was that 38 politicians actually thought this was a good idea. The bill was defeated 38-55 in May.

"There's a silent majority of people who are sick and tired of seeing people's underwear," Shepherd said. "We think that this is a fad that is just as indecent as streaking. And we will try again next year."

OK, so they just won't give up. But the way fashion trends come and go with teenagers, the folks in Louisiana ought to listen to parents like Wally Niemasik, whose son Thomas started sagging to look cool.

"I think it would be very boring if all kids dressed the same way," Niemasik said. "If you're doing things that the older generation is uncomfortable with, you're kind of setting your own identity."

No one knows how the teenagers of tomorrow will be wearing their pants, he said.

"Maybe your kids will be wearing their pants up high," he said.