The Pack is Back

Here’s something I never thought I’d write; the fanny pack is back. That ubiquitous bag that tourists and my mother-in-law wear around their waist is now considered a cool fashion accessory. That’s right, while I was busy mocking the fanny pack for decades, it rose in both popularity and style.

In truth, I’m behind the times as the fanny pack gained fashionista favor in 2017 during New York City Fashion Week. Its ascension in style was literally described as “a massive resurgence.” I don’t know what to make of this. I mean, how in the world did this bum-bag, catch-all, utilitarian purse-wanna-be, that rests on your belly, become trendy?

Granted, I’ve hung on to my own remnants of style that others clearly reject. But no one is going to make me give up my electric blue spandex pants that wait for a disco revival. Or, leg warmers that - wait for it - keep your legs warm! Then, there’s my peasant blouse with tassels that better belongs on a 14-year-old in an American Eagle ad. People, that blouse just happens to go perfectly with my bell bottoms.

I am all about self-expression and individualism, however, are we okay with proclaiming the fanny pack fashion? Call me judgmental, but keeping tissues and loose change in a teeny backpack strapped to my midriff just doesn’t do it for me.

First, there’s a huge misnomer here, fanny being the offender. I think we all can agree the pack is not worn on the fanny. And, that’s a good thing. Just imagine trying to unzip that bag at airport security if it were on your buttocks. Forget fashion, you’re a prime suspect for TSA. 

And let’s talk about the word “fanny.” In my experience, it was kid speak for a person’s rear. Nowadays, except when combined with the word “pack,” one rarely hears it anymore. No one says, “you’re the fanny of a joke,” or “my fanny is on the line,” and, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never, ever been called a “fanny-hole.”

Moreover, the word “fanny” is oldfangled. Merriam Webster said it was first used circa 1835 - that’s the same year “house girl” came into use. Worse, its origin comes from the British offensive slang term for a woman’s privates. Also, where I don’t want to wear a pack. Enough said.

But, what to do? Who wants to call the fanny pack by its rightful name, stomach-pack? It’s not sexy at all and sure to reflect poorly on its new found claim to fashion. I think, after years of derision, the least I can do is come up with a new moniker for this wayward accessory. Admittedly, I discarded my initial brainstorms: gut-sack, tummy-tote and paunch-pouch, and finally settled on what rose to the surface as being the least embarrassing: Ab-Bag. Think of it as a hip, catchy name for a zip-up container one fastens to their waist, you know, because it’s never too late to be on trend. Come to think of it, I did spy on Amazon a purple leopard print fanny pack, I mean, Ab-Bag, that would really give a pop of color to my disco pants.

But alas, the industry has moved on without me. Designers, probably led by marketing behemoths, coined the lame term “belt-bag” to sell fanny packs. I’m not sure why these creative directors are getting the big bucks. “Belt-bag,” really? How’s that fashion-forward?

Thankfully, I’m not one to get cowed by these mega-designers, like Gucci, who sells their version of a fanny pack for $1,150. I’ll stick with the one online for $14.99 and give it a go. I’m getting older, after all, and having an Ab-Bag would be a voguish way to carry my keys, reading glasses and, oh yes, tissues and loose change.