(A tacked on caption reads, "GOT IT? Now Pull Up Your Pants")
A former staff member sent me this image.
This poster encapsulates the reasons why I love Prohibition-era gangsters and am fascinated by Organized Crime research.
Take a good look at this image.
These men were often grammar school dropouts, and yet, had big businesses and corporations by early middle-age. These men, upon success, employed, or were referred to, tailors they usually kept for years, or until their careers ended upon imprisonment, execution or other forms of death.
Now, why should we care? Well, let me just say this:
There is a pandemic of baggy, saggy pants infecting our country.
This idea that multiple gold teeth, tattoos across one's face, poorly-maintained hair and clothes taken from a laundry bin and put on like a 3-year-old dressing his/herself, makes one a GANGSTA.
NOTE: Gangster is spelled with an 'ER', not 'A'.
*Said like Ed McMahon* "You ARE CORRECT, Sir!", you are a Gangsta, whatever THAT is.
Not a GANGSTER.
For those who aspire to true criminality, especially in the realm of organized crime, take some guidance from your forefathers in vice : Dress with PRIDE, with CLASS, and with SOPHISTICATION.
Many of these men rose to prominence, eventually becoming what society viewed as true businessmen. I doubt strongly they would have become politicians, entrepreneurs...community leaders...dressed as if they had rolled from bed, been assaulted in prison, or had a Pre-kindergarten child dress them.
Now...go pull your pants up. And learn again to use a belt.