Now that drugs are bigger than above-ground pools and slip 'n' slides, there's a market to be had. Are fellow ravers going to think you're the fanny pack, rave blazer-wearing kingpin with enough illegal vices on you that you could make a blind man see sounds and speak shapes? Yes. But isn't that what rave clothing is for?
*Editor's Note: This was written at high noon at the Gold Pan Saloon after a few Dark 'n' Stormies and a sticky J-bird.