In Historic Move, U.S. Fashion Policy Officially Aligns with North Korea
WASHINGTON D.C. – In a stunning bipartisan breakthrough that has left political pundits and denim enthusiasts reeling, the U.S. Department of Transportation has announced a bold new sartorial directive: henceforth, blue jeans are considered "unacceptable attire" for air travel.
The move, announced by the Transportation Secretary during a press conference held atop a mountain of discarded chinos, finally answers the age-old question, "What country shares our deep, philosophical distrust of denim?" The answer, it turns out, is the Democratic People's Republic of Korea.
"We have long admired the DPRK's unwavering commitment to sartorial purity and its brave stand against the tyrannical fabric of blue denim," the Secretary stated, while dressed in a state-approved grey tracksuit. "For too long, the lax, jeans-friendly skies of the West have been a gateway to moral decay. Today, we say, 'No more.' Today, we join Comrade Kim Jong-un's glorious, threadbare crusade."
The new policy, dubbed "Operation: Jeanocide," is said to be the result of months of clandestine negotiations and a shared understanding that few things threaten national security like a relaxed fit.
The announcement has been met with predictable chaos at airports nationwide. TSA agents, newly empowered, have been instructed to perform "fabric frisks" and are equipped with color-coded swatches of forbidden blues, from "Distressed Democracy" to "Boot-Cut Bourgeoisie."
"I was just trying to get to Cleveland," lamented one traveler, who identified himself as "Dave from Accounting," now shivering in his Hanes briefs after being forced to surrender his 501s at a security checkpoint. "They said my jeans promoted 'reckless individualism' and 'unregulated comfort.' I just thought they went with my sneakers."
Airlines are scrambling to adapt. American Airlines has announced a new "Denim Buy-Back" program, where passengers can trade their jeans for a complimentary bag of pretzels and a PDF copy of the Pyongyang Times' style guide. Spirit Airlines, never one to miss a revenue opportunity, is now selling "Patriotic Pantaloons" for $89 at all gates.
The cultural ramifications are already being felt. Fashion icons are in an uproar. "This is worse than the low-rise jean revival of the early 2000s," cried a tearless Anna Wintour from behind her perpetual sunglasses. "At least that was a crime of fashion. This is a crime against humanity."
Meanwhile, in a rare moment of international accord, North Korea's state-run media Rodong Sinmun published a glowing editorial. "We welcome our American brothers and sisters to the righteous path of anti-denim thought. They have finally recognized that the only true freedom is freedom from the oppressive yoke of blue cotton twill."
Critics of the new policy argue that it unfairly targets the common citizen. "What about the billionaires in their private jets?" asked one protestor outside Dulles, clutching a pair of vintage Wranglers to his chest. "I bet they're still wearing jeans! This is a war on the working class's comfort!"
When asked for comment on this double standard, the Transportation Secretary simply smiled, adjusted his official lapel pin—which depicted a jean-clad eagle being struck by lightning—and whispered, "Some are more equal than others."
As the nation's cargo shorts and corduroys are dusted off for their moment in the sun, one thing is clear: the American sky is no longer a place for casual Friday. It is a frontier of ideological purity, a bastion of state-sanctioned style, and a testament to the fact that when it comes to crushing liberty, it's best to start with the pants.
