Good evening all. My name is Jimmy, Jimmy Chews(as I inhale the fiery tobacco from my American Spirit Organic Cigarette and sip on my tepid Starbucks latte) and I've been chasing the dragon since I was 11. It all started in 6th grade with Panama Jack T-shirts and Sebago Topsiders that would never be mine(inhale/exhale). Along with Izod shirts, back when it had the gator on the shirt and no one knew of Lacoste. See, we were poor. Not country depression era poor or inner DUCK!! city poor, but Dad's getting his Ph.D. poor and my folks are splitting up. At the start of 8th grade, I tasted the good stuff(light another one). A friend gave me an Izod shirt and I managed to get a 2nd hand pair of Topsiders. I went from zero to zero + potential overnight. I realized that all that was keeping me from being cool were some decent clothes. Oh, and real hair cuts, showers, not spazzing out, and other pubescent acts. That summer, before the 9th grade, I moved to LEX, KY, away from the hell people call Birmingham, AL, to live with my Dad and his new trophy wife(3rd place North South Central KY). He finally had his damn degree, though it cost him my crazy mother, and he was finally bringing in some gonna-get-tenured loot(cig into the backwash coffee. "Is there gonna be any cake here? Doughnuts"?) I finally got to go shopping for my 9th grade year's clothing and pick out my own new stuff. By then the Panama Jack crap had disappeared, likely due to the extra 300 miles I was from the gulf or from the fact it sucked from the get-go. Now the world of fashion, albeit the world of central KY, was mine and down the rabbit hole I went. It took me a few seasons, some hits and misses, but by mid 10th grade until I was out of HS, I was on fire, but also became a full blown addict. My story is long and you all have probably heard many tales like mine. At our next meeting, I hope to have more time to tell you how I got here. It's day 1 for me and I hope to keep going. Stay strong and look good. I know it's someone else's turn to introduce themselves, but that's how I started. A quick anecdote before I run; one of my early enablers, a hot friend of my younger sister once said to me, "Girls look at guys shoes and if they're cool, that guy has a really good chance at getting laid. I love your shoes". Wow, so crisp and clear, so straight and matter of fact, so reaffirming. I looked at her, and she at me, and I said "Gotta run, see you later. I'm going to the mall"****true story. Except the part where I ditched her for the f-ing mall. I'm not stupid.