The List

By Hank Stuever
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, January 1, 2007

Suddenly limits, just a hint of limits! The sheeple start taking the computers out of their kids' rooms. Just enough of them ignore the Decider. They unanimously reject the Gap's skinny black pants out of simple respect for the ghost of Audrey Hepburn. They discover new frontiers in shame via YouTube and then look askance. Our sense of justice finally leads somewhere: Britney expunges Kevin; Jim kisses Pam; your husband finally realizes that phone in his ear makes him look like a dork.

You go outside, kick off those ill-thought Crocs, and birdies sing fleeting songs of $2 gas. That slight rustling sound? It's millions of teenagers pulling up their pants an inch -- the new look. A prim, white-haired man in a pinstriped suit soothingly yet sternly commands an army of young fashionistas to "make it work," and the weird thing is, they do. Make it work has somehow auf'd stay the course, and you resolve to go on living, and immediately set about making your List.

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