Today when I was out and about, I saw a fanny pack. Yes, folks, it was a real, live, fanny pack. Those immoral things from the 80's complete with a buckle to fit on...well...your fanny. I never understood the draw to wear a fanny pack. It's not as comfortable as a belt and actually, due to gravity, probably works to pull your pants down instead of holding them up. It's like the backpack's white-trash cousin with less room for junk in the trunk. It's right up there with scrunchies and pink yard flamingos. I think I actually gasped in horror when I saw it round the corner in the grocery isle.
My father used to have a fanny pack that had space for 2 water bottles flanked on each side. He used to take it hiking and I as a child about hip-height, this thing would swing back and forth on his hips with his stride making maneuvering around him on the trail almost impossible. I could see the clear trail ahead but on every other pace that he took this pack would swing its bottles in my face and threaten a black eye. He would pack this thing like we were going to be stranded for days out in the wilderness and heft it up around his wast like he was bench pressing 100 pounds.
The thing most ironic about the fanny pack is that women will often carry a purse with it. So, I'm guessing they have the fanny pack just as an accessory? Maybe they carry their scrunchies in it.