Return to Sender: One Final Warped Tour Post

Hair-Raising
There was some pretty outstanding hair at Warped Tour. Some of it fluorescent, some of it gravity-defying, and all of it a way to give your parents the finger. I saw the gentleman to the left when I first arrived, and again at the end of the day. The impressive thing about his look is that it somehow didn't go limp in the humid heat. The other impressive thing is that he's probably too young to actually remember The Misfits. That's because he was easily a few years younger than me - and the band broke up the year I was born. But three cheers for bringing out the plaid.

The young lady on the right was probably born a good ten years after the first coming of real, authentic, Sex Pistols-style punk, but she's still living the lifestyle and embodying the aesthetic - leopard print and all. Serious props to her for lasting a whole day outdoors in that outfit - it definitely looked uncomfortably warm. I'm pretty sure she knew I was snapping this photograph. She kept glaring at me as I walked around - even before I pulled my camera out. If you're out there reading this, though? Please know that we snapped the photo because we admired your look. The making fun of people happens below. You're safe. That's why we gave you the black bar over your eyes.

We thought this guy looked rather like a Roman centurion. Probably cheaper than assembling all that plumage, too - but then, you never know how all that gel will add up! He's another one rockin' the old school punk look. All of the metal in his vest probably weighed a ton - but according to the message scrawled on his arm, he's a regular fuck bus, so it must work in his favor.

Here's another early-eighties throwback, but it's less punk and more... Rainbow Brite. Does anyone else remember that show? Because the theme song is totally stuck in my head now. (Come on, everybody, sing it with me: "Rainbow Brite/ See the shining light/ Yes I'm gonna take ya to Rainbow Brite/ Starlite flies/ Right before your eyes/ And rainbow colors will cheer you up...") I always wanted a horse like Starlite - ego and all...

Permanent Reminders
There was a lot of ink at Warped Tour. A. Lot. Of. Ink. Some of it was especially baffling to us - like this dude with a Star of David on his forearm. Didn't your rabbi ever tell you that Jews aren't supposed to get tattoos?

Another especially baffling bit of ink was this ankle tat. Of Peewee Herman. And as PH himself would say: "If you love it so much, why don't you marry it - or at least get it indelibly inked on your body?"

The men of MxPx gave us cause to wonder: what happens when you run out of tatooable skin? Facial tats? Inked palms and soles? Internal organs?

The small of this girl's back is doing the Care Bears Countdown. In The Wedding Crashers, Vince Vaughn says that a tat in this location might as well be a bullseye - but we can't help but feel that even he would be disturbed at the thought of looking down on this one.

Of course, for every baffling or ridiculous tattoo we saw, we saw at least as many gorgeous, elaborate, detailed tats. This guy's ink really caught my eye - but I do have to wonder how it's going to look in forty years.

Honey, No
Oh, man. There were a lot of bad fashion ideas on display at Warped Tour. It would seem that there's a massive full-length mirror shortage across Philadelphia and Southern New Jersey, because I'm reasonably certain that half of the people at Warped Tour have never looked in one. Nor did they seem to have anyone around to tell them: "Hey - that's really not a good look for you." It needn't be hurtful. But some people really need that. Like the girl seen here. I'm not putting her here because of her weight. In fact, she wasn't nearly as large as this picture makes her look. She did, however, seem to be completely lacking in self-awareness. There are certainly ways to dress a plus-sized body, even in the heat. Unfortunately, this isn't one of them.

Also scoring low on the self-awareness scale was this guy. He was with several of his buddies. Unfortunately, instead of alerting him to his exposed upper butt, they were probably in hysterics over it. Remember, kids: just say no to crack. Please.

On the flip-side of the self-awareness coin was this gentleman, who was all too self-aware. It's hard to read his tat when the image is this small, but if you look closely, you might see that the words "Only God can judge me" are inked along the curve of his ample belly. Guess what, buddy? We're judging you. (The verdict is: highly amused.)

Phillyist has a history of not liking Uggs, but I can see how they come in handy when it's freezing outside. Last Friday, however, was in the nineties, so there is no reason at all for this ensemble. (The pants, by the way, are actually cropped sweatpants. Maybe she was trying to sweat out all her water weight?)

These are not shorts. These are pajama bottoms. Warped Tour may last all day, but ain't nobody sleeping on the Tweeter lawn. So would it kill you to get dressed before you head over? (Our thoughts on the exposed butt cheeks just to her left are below. It's a different girl, but a very similar ensemble.)

These aren't shorts either. I think we call this underwear. Sure, the girl has the body to pull it off and all, but when you're dressed, the people around you should not be able to tell that you've had a bikini wax recently. The ensemble would be all the more obscene if you saw the girl wearing it: she couldn't have been over sixteen. Calling Chris Hansen...

All images by Jillian Ashley Blair Ivey and Ross Currie.