Dear Dolce and Gabbana,
It’s fashion week here in the Most Things are Garbage household.
This means three things.
Number one: the repercussions from Super Bowl are the devil. All that salsa laden food covered in various cheeses and seasonings probably influenced by salt has all settled in the mid section of my body, and it is holding my waistline hostage somewhere on the tipping point of a 31 spilling over into a 32.
But cheese. Dear god the cheese.
Number two: my cat and dog are not my biggest fans. Don’t get me wrong, dressing them up is great and fashion week is all about the looks, but my dog is super comfortable when he is naked and roaming free in life, and really who the hell isn’t?! It just makes it easier for him when he decides to embarrass me in front of all the dates I bring home from the Internet as he pleasures himself at their feet while we watch Amelie on the couch.
Number three: Research!
I believe it was Spider-Man who said “With great fashion comes great responsibility.”…
…or something like that.
I mean it’s 2014 now so I feel as though fashion is unbelievably lenient now-a-days, and that there is a lot more room to be flexible.
Personally, I’m usually an all dark everything-all black everything kinda guy usually. My standard wardrobe would make the interior of Drake’s Maserati blush.
As far as dress goes though, I am not on the up and up with the latest trends or the hot styles now. It is complicated and written a long while back, but if you really want to know the progression of my fashion technique, you can read this.
Basic gist: My mom picked out my outfits until I was 24 and I made those sex-bracelets out of soda cap things to wear, and then passed them off to my parents as me being creative and not at all slutty. Also, those bracelets didn’t work and I usually ended up breaking all of my own while I played with my action figures on a nightly basis. Then I made progress somewhere after an ex-gfs insistence that I dress human, I understood how important the world of fashion truly was. There’s only so many times someone can say, ‘Stop shopping at Delia’s’ before you finally start listening.
Blah blah blah, a few years later I’m basically Tyra Banks.
So I basically understood all things fashion except one:
When the fuck did it become socially acceptable to wear leggings as pants.
Mom! You didn’t prepare me for this!! I’ve seen some horrible things!
To me saying leggings are pants, is like saying cotton swabs make a good substitute for pepperoni as a topping on pizza. No, just stop it doesn’t make sense!
I had to get to the bottom of it, this fashion phenomenon that has been sweeping the world.
Well as I generally tend to do before I believe anything I’m told, I heavily considered setting out to conduct a very detailed experimentation. I weighed the pros and cons of actually wearing a pair of leggings as pants for 24 hours, and was quite hesitant but a friends Facebook post pretty much solidified the decision for me:
Luckily for me, I gave up on shame several months ago. I mean really what does in matter in the long run, grand scheme of things in life, a male wearing leggings out as pants should be considered normal right?
Well staying true to the daily experiment, I began by purchasing a 10$ pair of jeggings at target in the women’s section. It was not awkward for I had my female companion in friendship in attendance with me. I grabbed a bag of gummy worms and a copy of Bridget Jones’ Diary for checkout so there would be no misconstrued notions about what I was doing.
“Ten dollars?!? Where did you find these?” exclaimed the female cashier.
Somewhere between shirts that look like dresses and accessories I have zero idea how to utilize.
One, two, skip a few and here we are at D-Day. I made sure to wear my leggings to bed so that I awoke physically wearing them for the start of my 24 hour period.
I fixed myself a pot of coffee and a hearty plate of bacon because, well these have an elastic waistband and who the hell am I trying to impress really?
I mean with the exception of that OkCupid date at Starbucks but was there any doubt that I wouldn’t kill that?
And so, as their time wound down as house guests, Kurt and Rachelle in all their marital bliss, invited me to join them around the Capitol Region while they ran errands.
I figured since I was basically going to be miserable wearing basically no pants all day, I may as well take in some pre-wedding bickering to really twist the whole knife of joy lodged in the torso that is my life.
Well we made our way through several locations to collect data, as will be evident below in the results. To begin, in the car I did the only thing any reasonable person would do when conducting an experiment of this caliber:
I apologize to no one. I have done everything right up to this point.
Next, I took a ‘from where I stand‘ photo to post to the Instagram at a later date after results were concluded.
It was eerily reminiscent of the majority of shots I tend to see on the Instagram, so I knew I was doing something correct.
Suddenly, and without warning, my 00’s pop princess mix on Spotify was interrupted by the buzz and buffering of multiple notifications. Apparently, my post on the Facebook had caused a stirring in the loins of many females, and opinions began rolling in a la the form of comments:
I am not saying no more pants is a bad thing. I’m also not saying the female who posted this has never taken her pants off in front of me.
(She hasn’t. I got friend zoned when I was like 9 for saying the word ‘vagina’ in front of her on the summer camp bus. Boys are gross.)
What I am saying, is that females rushing to the defense of their sacred skin-tites was not enough to convince me!
So of course there were many more opinions to be given:
Obviously by this point I was welcoming any and all opinions because I knew in the long run half the research would be done for me. Part of the plan all along.
There were funny opinions:
There were honest and sincere opinions:
There was sassy-ness:
There was classic disagreement amongst the female species:
Obviously there would be no final group consensus as we all know that females can never just agree on something.
I knew that the fate of leggings as pants lay I’m the hands of me, and I had to get straight to business.
Below are my findings:
Daily itinerary by location:
The family Dollar
Michaels Craft Store
Starbucks (OkCupid first date)
Constant– me, my beauty, my ass, my sass, hair.
Changing– butt uncovered 50% of the time at each location, customer type in store.
Reasoning and rules:
1. The golden rule.
Leggings being worn as pants is applicable first and foremost ONLY if the booty is covered. It is scientifically proven, and therefore is the first regulation to this process. See scientific findings below:
Booties are meant to be poppin, but not in leggings ladies. Covering your bottom makes all the difference out in public.
2. Present yourself well!!!
Choose your outfit carefully. Whatever the fuck tunics are, they are apparently closely associated with the legging ensemble. I chose a tank top under an oversized sweater. It was sensible and not too ragged. It requires a certain chutzpah to pull it off in public, and while you may feel comfortable, the attitude makes all the difference between:
‘Look I’m lazy am I doing the shopping right oh god what is my life I miss my cats time to go home’
‘Look I’m basically Beyoncé you’re just frontin’, I AM Sasha Feirce and yuh jealous’
3. Know what to expect.
There is a very good chance you are going to get some looks. Am I right or am I right ladies? You have to be aware of your surroundings, and science proves that with certain places come certain levels of judgment. In reality, we all know the real judgment free zone is not planet fitness, but Walmart.
If you notice, places you would expect to see leggings as pants (Big Lots, Family Dollar) are more judgmental than those places you are expected to be creative and different (Michaels, home). This is because your brain loses the ability to give a shit how you look when you go to locations you fully expect to see a lazy ensemble.
Where sweatpants are basically the closest thing to allowing your bottom parts to feel more free than my refills at Starbucks, jeans can be binding and constrictive. Leggings comfort level becomes clear when put in these terms.
5. Say no to UGGS.
Look I’m not saying UGGS look stupid with leggings, I’m saying UGGS look stupid. You need to own this look, and frankly everyone looks foolish in UGGS.
Be a boss, sneakers for the win kiddos:
LEGGINGS ARE COMFY AS FUCKKKKKKK!!!
Here’s the bottom line though. If you love your body and you’re comfortable, who gives a shit what you’re wearing.
Odds are you’ll end up reclined in front of Netflix anyway.
Honestly, with the amount of criticism put on body types and choice of dress nowadays, I personally vote for the whole if you like it, wear it at this point.
Just do you, learn to love the skin you’re in, and you’ll be fine.
And take lots of selfies…always…
Bless this mess,