Image design by Sara Easterling, image via manrepeller.com

By Joelle Hyman

If you haven’t already heard, the world is going to end. No, not by the time your great-great-great-great-grandchildren look at pictures of you on a hologram projecting watch, but next week. Really, I read it online.

The last time I checked—which, for the sake of journalistic accuracy, was about five seconds from publishing—’tis not the season to perish in apparel from the campus bookstore. When snow traps us in our childhood bedrooms and the sun finally sets on ye olde world, no one will be looking at what I wore. There won’t be anyone to even remember my ensemble because, surely, even Heidi Montag’s silicone body will break down and wither, but it will matter to me.

Below are the bare essentials to (sartorially) surviving the final countdown. Because I lack the faith in all human kind to trust that you’ll know what to do with these items, I gave an appropriately detailed summary for each scenario and its respective goods. See you on the other side, but only if you plan on living your second life in Barney’s—that’s where I’ll be.

The Look: If you wear a Juicy tracksuit to the end of the world, many people will believe you deserve your fate in the final storm. The two ensembles below have been carefully crafted to be practical, untraceable to the exact date of your impending doom, and, most importantly, not a Juicy tracksuit. Let’s explore.

Inside your storm shelter: In a former life, I’m positive that I was a hybrid Hugh Hefner/Alexa Chung. I know most of you have felt the same at one point, since dressing like a toddler and a grandpa at the same time can’t be a phase exclusive to myself.

Just like the seminal classic by The Weather Girls predicted, it will all start by raining men. Head in to your safest space (both literal and physical) with a pajama set, like this cotton one from J.Crew. If you’re feeling especially Hugh and less Chung, go for the embroidered initials on the pajama top pocket.

Since it’s the end of it all, throw your last pennies away on Charlotte Olympia’s kitty loafers. These may seem kitschy and way definitive of our final year, but trust me, you’ll feel like Queen of the Universe if you kick your feet up on any surface. Manners need not be excessive when there are men falling from the clouds, right?

Taking it to the Battlefield: 2012 is basically a high-functioning society based on the standards set by Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century, just with better props. Stick to black, white, and shades of grey. Highlighting the only worthwhile color palette with silver accents is imminent to your success as a post-apocalyptic zombie/corpse/thing. There’s absolutely no metallic accent better than a Norma Kamali coat that also functions as a Capri Sun pouch. (As always, consider the realistically priced alternatives.) Should you take the leap and purchase the Zenon-approved puffer, let us know if juice leaks out when you stick a straw in it. See, fashion can be efficient.

Skinny jeans may be a thing of the now, but I have a hunch their relevance is not fleeting. Start off with a white pair—yes, seriously—because that Labor Day rule is for quitters and quitters never end up on post-apocalyptic street style blogs. Move onwards and upwards to mixing grays for your top layers. Layering is key to survival, as is making sure your grays don’t clash. Try a thin tank top, long sleeve shirt, and cashmere sweater combo to avoid that awkward “extra padding” effect that layering can often give. Tuck your layers into the front of your jeans and let them hang loosely in the back. The half-tuck is a true craft, so attempt accordingly, and finish it off with a thin black belt.

For kicks, you’ll need something practical and sustainable. Superga make a timeless tennis shoe that provides comfort without looking like a total douche, to put it eloquently. Should you be off to a final fête, snatch a pair of Zada (when Zara knocks of Prada, it becomes a Zada, naturally) platforms to give this look a casual but occasion-appropriate look. Effort is not necessary when it comes to this entire outfit, so if anyone asks, you’re just an American girl (mentally) in Paris.

Grab a pompom-topped beanie and thick scarf for pure practicality, which I guess is sometimes important. Your neck will definitely thank you when the vampire zombies come out to play. Our fine visual above featuring the pioneer of fashion freak shows, Leandra Medine of The Man Repeller, nails the look perfectly. Should your initial storm shelter fail you, page her on your two-way for ultimate warmth in her blanket scarf and leg hair.

Beauty: With minimal trend factor in the clothes, beauty is the best way to make sure the aliens know your body made it to the last days. For the (hypothetically nonexistent) spring season, Burberry predicts simplicity to triumph. Start out with a BB Cream, like Dr. Jart’s Black Label Detox. Apply like a usual tinted moisturizer and set with powder, if needed.

Base your lips with a bit of concealer, blot with a tissue, and apply Burberry’s “Siren” lipstick. The hue, the exact one used on the runway in September, will be more pigmented with a neutral base as opposed to laying on top of your natural rose-y lips. Hold a tissue over your lips, press lightly, and dust a bit of translucent powder over the tissue. Apply another coat of the lipstick and you’ll have red lips until 3012, just in time for Justin Bieber’s post-apocalyptic rager.

Lastly, skip the liquid liner and smokey eye schpeil and coat your lashes with Benefit’s They’re Real!—what I truly believe to be the eighth world wonder. Swipe on about two coats and remember not to brush your hair. Mess is best when it comes to two things: hair and romantic relationships on teen soap operas.

The Final Run: Oh no, it’s happening. Run for your life, but not without your seemingly meaningless material items! Pack ’em up in this tote from L.L. Bean which holds up to 500 pounds and is completely waterproof. Grab your Moleskin, disposable camera, and stack of magazines dating back to 2006 to make sure you die buried in a bunch of decomposable shit on a bed of roses, like that song by The Band Perry said it would happen. Throw a pair of sunglasses on to prevent looking your high school classmates in the eye as you, inevitably, run into them at the gates of doom. If your life has any meaning, it’s facing ghosts from high school’s past on the final day and looking really good. Gold star for you!

If the Mayans were wrong and Lady Gaga will not, in fact, spread her wings of witchcraft over Earth and bury us all in black diamond glitter on December 21, reread this and make every apocalyptic pun into a holiday one. The holidays definitely hold just as much darkness and unpredictability as the end of the world—just ask your druncle and the family member who has to restrain him to a recliner chair every Christmas.

The Editors
jerkmagdigital@gmail.com

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