Every so often, new disciples must be found for the Monastery of Cool. During these searches, groups of monks wander all across the world to find people who are perhaps suitable to join the ranks of Cool. This time, they came back with three prospective candidates. These candidates were blindfolded and taken to the cavernous Monastery Wardrobe.
As the blindfolds were removed, they were greeted by an old wizened figure. This was, no doubt, one of the Senior Sages of Cool. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the three candidates and cleared his throat to speak.
"We have brought you three here today because we see in you potential. Potential to join our ranks of coolness. Of course, this path is not easy. It never is. So before we can officially welcome you into our ranks, we must give you a test."
He gestured at the expansive room behind him, filled with racks of clothing and boxes of accessories.
"From this, go out and pick an outfit which you believe is cool. Bring it to me and you will be judged. You have one day."
So the students began their search. The rifled through the racks of clothes and the boxes of shoes, examining each item meticulously. The next day, they had their selections ready. The Sage of Cool returned, and one by one examined the choices they had made.
The first candidate bowed and presented his outfit. "This outfit is crafted from silk that has come leagues from the exotic east, and delicately embroided with the finest golden threads. This outfit is made from the finest materials in the world, and therefore it is Cool," was his answer.
The Sage of Cool shook his head sadly. That was not Cool.
The second candidate bowed and presented his outfit. "This outfit was designed by the most loved and well-acknowledged designer in the world. It is the culmination of years spent perfecting the art of fashion, and therefore it is Cool," was his answer.
The Sage of Cool shook his head sadly. That was not Cool.
The third candidate had no outfit to present. He bowed, and gestured at the direction of the wardrobe like the sage had done the day before. "Anything in this wardrobe can be Cool, if I choose to wear it," was his answer.
The Sage of Cool nodded his head with an air of deep understanding. That was correct.
This idea was shamelessly taken from Terry Pratchett and expanded upon by me. In Discworld, the Monks of Cool live in a laid-back valley in the Ramtops.
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