They come in shapes that range from little princess castles to horses and unicorns. They’re everywhere, and it seems that no one can escape them.
By them, I mean Silly Bandz. I’ve seen those squiggly rubber bands around the wrists of many college students, to the point that it seems it has become the wrist tattoo of the generation.
Now, one would think that I’d start hating relentlessly on Silly Bandz right away in the vein of, say, leggings as pants or child stars dressing in stripper heels. In all honesty, I’m more filled with fascination than with utter abhorrence over this trend. What I want to know is what makes the Silly Bandz so attractive and alluring to college students, who are adults and are on the way to having careers and going to graduate school.
According to a June 10 article in BusinessWeek by Susan Berfield, founder Robert J. Croak got the idea from animal-shaped silicone bands sold in Japan. Croak then got the fashion accessory to take off by making the bands thicker and making a Facebook fan page for his product that has garnered fans and customers alike. Millions of his bracelets have been sold since 2008.
Granted, I am skeptical of any fad that consists of something rubbery or resembling jelly. I recall the days when sparkly jelly sandals replaced regular shoes and everyone wore those jelly “sex bracelets” in junior high school that one could buy in bulk from Hot Topic. While it may have been an urban myth, I remembered that the sexual implications of the jelly bracelets were kind of gross, what with the snapping of the bracelet and the automatic consequence of a sexual favor.
The very innocence of Silly Bandz has me more sympathetic to their cause. Anything that ends in a “z” seems to have more childlike connotations which is appropriate, because, hello, Silly Bandz are for kids.
First-year undeclared student Jonathan Sanders said that Silly Bandz are simply awesome, using all sorts of expletive enhancing words to describe their level of awesomeness. He took off his band to show off the pony-shaped bracelet he was wearing at the time. Or it could have been a cocker spaniel. It’s hard to tell with these things.
However, first-year pre-economics student Holly McCormick has a different perspective of the trend. McCormick said that Silly Bandz remind her of being a child again and how fun it is to trade and collect different shapes and colors.
Perhaps that is where the comfort of the Silly Band lies ““ as a hearkening to childhood. The concept of trading the bands and getting giddy over a dinosaur-shaped band bring me back to the era of the Beanie Baby and the Happy Meal toy.
I do have qualms about Silly Bandz, since I perused their site to find that they are selling FarmVille-themed bands and bracelets in the shape of Justin Bieber. Capitalizing on a nonsensical Internet gaming addiction and illogical idolatry of a bowl-haired boy seems to be a little too much exploitation for my taste, but hey, it sells.
While I don’t really see the harm in rubber bands in the shape of ducks or ice cream cones, I do understand that it’ll come and go, just like any other fad that has captured the spacey attention spans of the youth of America. I just sincerely hope that Silly Bandz never become part of any sex games.
If you are a Silly Bandz fanatic despite being old enough to wear real jewelry, e-mail Jue at tjue@media.ucla.edu.