Unfortunately for our generation, the term "Douche" has largely lost the intense sting it once possessed. Thrown around so frequently when referring to Frat Boys, homeschoolers, and Yankees Fans, when engaging in our anthropological search for Douches, there must be a common definition for spotting and observing such a class of douche. It is for this reason that we define a Douche, and explain exactly how to spot one.
As you can see, there are several interchangeable elements to the DC Douche. Beginning with the most basic is the general wardrobe choice. Popped collars are a must, though severely misunderstood. Appearing as a fashion statement, perhaps to the DC Douche, it serves a functional purpose. Perhaps popping the collar allows for the Lacoste gator/Polo horse/ Vineyard Vines whale to become more visible to the observer's eye. Maybe the collar poppage catches hair product falling from the over-styled coif of the Douche. It could, however, be something so simple as an acoustics choice, serving to increase the volume at which the DC Douche can hear observers complimenting his bright pink or sherbet orange top. For whichever reason the Douche pops the collar, trust us, it's popped to high-heaven.
Next, to match the pansy pink or fabulous fuchsia polo is the horrifically clashy Madras shorts. These are a pattern which apparently hails from a Cape in India. I wonder how many poor Indian creatures had to die to cover the upper thigh of the DC Faux Boat Enthusiast? Only God knows.
However, never to be outclassed by those from other major cities, sometimes the DC Douche must dress up in something a bit more formal. A wedding, perhaps? A classy cocktail hour? Maybe in other cities, but not in DC. The main reason for dressing up is that there is a day existing between Wednesday and Friday which is more spectacular than most; Seersucker Thursday. You may have seen those child beauty pageants on television when parents shamelessly parade their children on stage in horrific outfits... that's what this is like, except grown men wear these horrific outfits on their own free will, and the only people judging them are one another. Seersucker suits are like herpes, they break out more during spring, and boy, do we wish we could hide from them. Both are contagious, and scare the hell out of females.
Now, should a DC Douche need to hold his Madras shorts or Seersucker pants up, there is only one acceptable method of doing so. Notice the belt, adorned with embroidery of the nautical sort. If you prefer to keep your sailboats at your parents marina, you may also sport a belt featuring crabs, fishbones, palmettos, your political affiliation, footprints, or any of the above with the color pink, and you have yourself a one way ticket to DC Douchedom.
Just south of the belt is the quintessential foot gear of the DC Douche, the boat shoe. Nowhere near a boat, the DC Douche prefers to wear Sperry's or the equivalent as often as humanly possible. The point of the shoe is yet unknown, but it brings the douche to the table. Also necessary in high-speed boating adventures and with no place in the mean streets of DC are the trendy RayBan sunglasses with win proof hold-it-on-your-head straps. Are you riding a motorcycle? No. Then you won't lose your shades riding on the metro, so get a life.
Finally, the DC Douche knows how to accessorize in a manner that would put most Italian women to shame. From chest hair bursting forth beneath an obscenely unbuttoned shirt to a partisan piece of neck wear (elephants are all the rage), to the cheap scotch disguised as a classy cocktail, and even the swinging of the cigar, constantly smoking up the sidewalk the DC Douche happens to be blocking on Penn Avenue, you can dress him up, you can take him out, but you just can't out Douche him. This is particularly evident when he begins throwing around his business cards, which he always manages to do, whilst juggling scotch and cigar and shaking hands (networking) all at the same time. A magical creature indeed is this DC Douche.
There are, however, two accessories which are far more important than all others. First is Republican Hair. A creature in and of itself, the Republican hair can't quite be explained, but it can be adored. A bold part, lots of volume, and from time to time, more product than a Gotti boy, the Republican hair is a symbol of DC masculinity, of pride, of power. Republican hair takes a life of its own, and may be worn by a Democrat, but the best accessory for Republican hair is the elephant tie, a one-two-punch saying "Hey Ladies, if you play your cards right, we might just swap business cards, and you know what that leads to... late night booty calls from my blackberry".
Speaking of Blackberry, it is no secret that this is the most meaningful, valuable of all DC Douche elements. On his hip or in his hand at all times, the DC Douche must maintain constant contact with his crew of Douches, fencing team, illegitimate children, or gaggle of underage intern-admirers, the Douche is within Blackberry reach at all times. If the DC Douche manages to take a girl on a date (No, Ladies, we're not talking T Coast here, an actual date), guess who also comes on the date? Everyone in the DC Douche's social circle, emailing him through the duration.
With DC being the most educated city in the country, it is also hard to imagine that it also appears to be the most painfully single city in the country. With the abundance of DC Douche, it is no big surprise. Cut out a paper doll for yourself, interchange his accessories, and bring him out with you. Maybe bringing our interactive DC Douche along with you will help you avoid nabbing one of your own? One can only hope.
