My sister, Kristin, has Down syndrome, and let me explain what “Style Down Syndrome” really is. “Style Down Syndrome” is smiling when everyone else prefers to frown. It’s spending three summers, in sheer determination, learning to ride a bike because you want the freedom to be like everyone else. It’s singing tunes from Grease at the top of your lungs with your friends. It’s celebrating a third-place victory at a swim meet with as much gusto as the gold medalist.
Style Down Syndrome is strong-willed, persevering, and forgiving—because it has to be.
"In L.A. they 'drive' their money. In New York they 'wear' their money. In Boston they 'hide' their money."
Chicagoans like to hedge descriptions of their style with, "It's not New York, and it's not LA..." It's self-conscious Midwestern. Lucky for them, harsh 11 ½-month winters serve to excuse a look that screams third-coast-insecurity: The Parka Pierogi. Ingredients: Blown-out Nikes; torn cargoes; favorite novelty T-shirt; Bears/Bulls/Blackhawks hoodie—all wrapped up in a totally nondescript parka. Are those things municipal-issue?
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