Vacuum-fit jeans that leave no room for a guys' privates to breathe (sometimes cutting off their entire lower-body blood circulation), resembling dark-colored, opaque saran wrap if it were wrapped around one's legs. They are preferred by boys of that kind of style (way of life, fashion, however you wanna patent it), with long, lithe, gamine (did someone say chicken?) legs. Occasionally, you'll see a boy or two with an unusually blessed behind or front, with either of those body parts wanting to pop out of them that you could just swear it would take just one more gait and the thing would rip off just like *snap*.
Kevin: Dude, why are you drooling? Are you looking at that emo kid over there?
Gary: Yea, shut up. I'm trying to concentrate.
Kevin: Concentrate on what? Those emo jeans?
Gary: Yea, well can't you see? His bottom half looks exactly like your sister's.
Short for competition. Used for minute-long chats between friends, quick sizing-ups between teammates, conversations among reality tv fans etc.
Greta: I wish I wasn't a cheerleader.
Farrah: Ugh, you're just saying that because you're nervous for tomorrow's competish.
Dirk: Hey man, look at that guy doing three-pointers over there.
Nigel: Psssh, tough competish.
Barb: I totally think she should've won america's next top idolized champion contender bachelorette.
Kemp: Well, what can we do? This year's competish was cutthroat.
Overexposed, overworn, and overrated clothing store where customers are unconsciously really paying exclusively for the pretty beefcakes plastered on the walls and the skinny girls with medium-sized breasts, and for the tiny brand labels on the clothes, not the clothes themselves. Face it, their money goes to the "all-american"-looking models, not to mention the employees, and to making such horrible ad campaigns, not to manufacturing their clothes. If you want to a buy a decent pique polo with mother-of-pearl buttons, go to Lacoste. If you want to buy a decent pair of jeans, go to Nordstrom's and buy Sevens. If you're looking for unique but wearable clothes, go to Topshop or Topman in the UK. Thrift at good vintage stores. Don't waste your life on A&F.
Liz: That girl shops at Abercrombie and Fitch.
Tara: How do you know? That logo on her shirt?
Liz: Well, it's the same exact shirt I've seen for the 50th time today.
Another one of Abercrombie and Fitch
's evil ploys to get people to buy their crap. The lighting is too dim (or maybe it only exists in the Hollister store I went in?), almost too conducive to strangers in heat to make out on top of their ugly wannabe polos and nothing-special tops. Whoever said that everyone who can't stand Hollister is fat and ugly? To that mindless pie, go on clone yourself like the others. Get married inside Hollister. Name your kid Hollister. Put up your own Hollister store and live in it. Whatever you do, we're not the ones who are gonna look stupid. Maybe it would help if for a second, you'd think about what you're really paying for.
Tess: OMG, I am so moving to the west coast!
Dani: Whaaat!? Which state?
Tess: California! I know, right!?
Dani: OMG, that's really hot. Where in California?
Tess: Inglewood. Wait, are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Dani: I think I am!
Tess: I should totally shop at Hollister so I could blend in with their west coast style!
Dani: Tess, you are such a genius!