How (not) To Dress Minnesotan

I don't know if you've heard, but I've been hearing something about it exactly every 37 seconds... the Superbowl is in Minneapolis this year, and it's this Sunday. I happen to live near Minneapolis, and have lived in various places near Minneapolis for my entire four+several decades (well, except for those first few months where I lived somewhere else, but that's another story).

Over the past few weeks, I've been subjected to more articles/news stories in regards to:

• what Minnesotans do (no, we don't all go ice fishing every weekend)
• what winter pastimes Minnesotans love to participate in (no, we don't all skate or ski)
• what Minnesotans eat (Lutefisk what?)
• where Minnesotans dine (we're not all trust fund families, so Burch Steak and Butcher & The Boar, though great, are not on the regular rotation)
• what Minnesotans drink (which includes a lot of things besides craft brew)
• how Minnesotans survive basically being frozen to death for 14 months of the year

Oh how I love hearing about how hardy we are to live in this arctic climate! One would think that instead of bike lanes, we should've installed sidewalks built specifically for snowshoes and a commuter lane designed solely for snowmobilers. Instead of the war over backyard chickens, it's a battle to see who can own the most penguins.

To the out-of-towner who has never been to Minnesota and only hears about how cold and awful it is and how people sprout icicles made out of snot, it's hard to believe that it actually gets hot in the summer (and yes, it lasts longer than a month), people get to wear something besides fleece and "strategic layering" becomes a distant memory.

It's at the end of these warm months and before our kids go back to school that something happens in Minnesota that I have yet to see mentioned in any Superbowl visitor Guides: The Minnesota State Fair. It's during these twelve days of gluttony and animal barns and Vitamix demonstrations that the most entertaining lesson is learned: what some Minnesotans actually wear in public, on purpose.

It would be interesting to see what this guy wears on a non-State Fair day. I like to think that he chose this outfit so that he would be easy to spy in crowds. If only his socks had been orange and green, too.

Just like in every single other state I've been to, Minnesotans struggle with parking between the lines, too.

They might as well add "useful for hauling cheap ass styrofoam filled carnival prizes" to the reasons why one would rent a wheelchair.

In addition to a lot of eating, the State Fair involves a lot of walking. This fella was extra prepared with the KT Tape strategically applied to his super jacked, milky white calves.

About all of that open toe footwear you see, though. Keep in mind that the State Fair streets, while not strewn with human feces and mountains of trash, are strewn with traces of animal feces, discarded food and more spit than an entire baseball team produces in a season. So while sandals and flip flops look great, it's going to suck when these people can't wear them next year because I assume that, when they got home from this fair, they looked and sniffed at the condition of their feet, and just chopped those suckers right off.

I wasn't sure if this was a man or a merman. Or maybe it's a mermaid. Again, not sure.

When I heard some clomping approaching from behind me, I stepped aside, preparing to pet the nice horsey. I was disappointed, and then thought "yeah, shoelaces can be SUCH a pain in the ass. All that tying!"

So I guess if you don't want to mess with tying your shoes and can't stand the thought of scumming up those flip flops or sandals, just say fuck it and go barefoot.

Not 100% convinced that what you're seeing here is a real Gucci bag, and also not sure if what you're seeing is shoes or electric tape, slapped on to resemble shoes.

And here we have the most hydrated man on the Fair grounds, along with someone walking while looking at their phone, which makes me rage.

Shirts, even though they seem so constraining and frivolous, are not to be considered an optional accessory. Pleather backpack, though? Absofuckenlutely necessary.

Yes, jorts are still a thing. Jorts in a variety of lengths, apparently not a thing.

I guess one way to solve the "but I don't want to stain any of my favorite outfits" dilemma is to just go to the Fair in your favorite slutty pajamas.

If the horizontal stripes aren't slimming and the vertical stripes are, let's just go with the diagonals.

I don't know what is on her back, and I really think it's best to leave it that way.

So this guy went through the trouble of picking out a shirt, but he couldn't be bothered to actually put the shirt on. Again, people, wearing a shirt is NOT OPTIONAL.

But apparently pants are.

And here, standing in line in front of one of the Gibb brothers, is someone staring at their phone and as a result, is stricken with paralysis and unable to navigate a beer line.

Wearing white pants to the State Fair is strongly discouraged, even if they do make your ass look great. Shoes that fit... also a bonus.

Sometimes while at the Fair, you spill your food/beer/snowcone, and it's only the truly prepared fairgoer that remembers to bring his own towel.

This 19yo dude won the award for Most Convincing Old Man Outfit.

You'd think that "pleather skirt that leaves dents in my skin" wouldn't make the list for State Fair wardrobe choices, but you would be wrong.

Hey check it out! Some bras have translucent straps but this one is better! The entire thing is translucent! And you don't even need to wear a shirt with it because it's invisible, so therefore it must make me invisible!

This booth right here, Sweet Martha's Cookies, is the main reason why so many people wander these overpopulated streets. They happily fork over $18 for a bucket that is overflowing with chocolate chip cookies, stand around and eat themselves into a calorie coma, and then carry that damn bucket around with them for the rest of the day.

Oh, and the booth NEVER looks like this, as it's usually MOBBED with people standing in lines ten fairgoers long. So if you ever see it like this at any point during the twelve days that the Fair is actually running, go buy a lottery ticket.

And about that ice fishing pastime that not all of us (including me) participate in, there are icefish house models at the State Fair because, I mean, why wouldn't there be!?

So if I WAS to go ice fishing and I had $16K, this is what I would gladly use. Yes, this is an icehouse and yes, that's a fireplace and yes, of course there's a bathroom.

This picture sums up the State Fair better than anything. Perfectly civilized and most likely highly educated people, voluntarily sitting on grit coated streets, shoving gobs of fatty foots into their mouths using hands that probably haven't been washed.

It's the best. And I look forward to it every single year.

One last word of wisdom; if you do happen to be in Minnesota for the State Fair and not the Superbowl, use your stealthiest skills to smuggle in a flask of vodka. Towards the end of the day, when your feet are tired and your entire body feels like it's coated with a questionable film, wander over to the Blue Barn, buy a blueberry lemonade and dump the contents of that flask into said lemonade. Now, take a giant gulp, and then say thank you, Mean Mom.

And then go home and wash your feet.