Fashion is a funny business. I mean, who knew that ripping jeans so the white thread is exposed becomes a reason to charge more money for them. Now they are actually blasting them with lasers to create intricate designs–pretty neat. These are fashion statements I can live with, but their is another fashion that is not so benign, a fashion statement that sometimes makes me cringe, creates feelings of abject fear, feelings of anxiety, of discomfort, and sometimes makes me literally want to run for cover. I become traumatized. I feel violated. I suffer from a spontaneous form of compulsory fashion PTSD. CF-PTSD.
I am talking about leggings.The T.M.I. of the modern fashion world. Let me clarify. There is a certain segment of the female population that can absolutely rock this clingy, stretchy, fabric anomaly with impunity. Some, the ones with the tight athletic derrieres even look sexy. But then there are the others. Maybe they know who they are and maybe they don’t. Either way–PLEASE–I don’t even know your name, what makes you think I want all that information about every nook and cranny of your robust cellulite ass. If I wanted cottage cheese, I would run down to the dairy section of my nearest Aldi, and buy some! Look, if you have even the slightest fashion sense, you can wear a long sweater or top, and we don’t have this conversation. If you’re suffering from a chronic form of conjunctive trunk-de-litis, I understand, I sympathize, but please… consider the children. Nobody can tell me the sight of protruding ass camel toe is not disturbing…it is! Very.
Some of these leggin things are actually see through. Now I’m a dude, and at the risk of sounding misogynistic (which I am not), I can admit, not a day goes by, that I am not wondering to myself what some sexy little biscuit, that I pass in my travels, is wearing for panties underneath those tight blue jeans. I can’t help it. Does that make me a pervert…or does that make me normal? We can debate that another time, for now we need to get this urgent message to the masses of asses that are running around with a delusional concept that this style looks good on them, when actually if they bend over (sometimes not even) the whole entire population of a given area becomes unwilling witnesses to a lunker set of granny panties, tighty whitey’s, or even more incendiary–a thong gone wrong.
Ugh…the horror of it all. I may have nightmares tonight. Look, I don’t like to be the harbinger of ill will…like it or not, this needed to be said. I consider it a public service announcement… Your welcome.
For comments email me at RJWordsmyth@gmail.com