I did this weird thing yesterday where after I got dressed, while still in my apartment, I looked into a mirror and said to myself, “Self, this looks fine.” The proclamation was followed by my walking out the door. Important to note is that this is something I do on a near daily basis, but on the particular morning that found my ass reverse-camel toeing, it was slightly if not entirely unusual that when I looked into the mirror I didn’t so much as consider how destructive it might be for me to wear denim underwear out publicly.
Yeah, yeah, sure, sure, I’ve tangoed in the public domain while pantsless de facto at least as many times as I can count on one finger, but when you’re going into an office and that attendance record is being met with at least a handful of additional office visits across the island of Manhattan, how short is too short when it comes to your, you know, shorts? This question arises at a particularly sensitive time because in spite of it being July, it is cold. So the excuse I love to use — that it’s too hot for clothes — doesn’t quite work when boots (not to be confused with boobs!) seem vaguely applicable.
But that’s not all. Here are three other things that are wrong with this outfit and my having worn it on a day I was specifically asked to appear presentable:
1. I have not shaved my lower legs in at least ten days because they’re far away from my hands and I don’t like bending down. I have not shaved my upper legs ever.
2. From certain angles, you can see my nipples — which are not concealed by a bra — through my shirt. I know this deficiency can be repaired with the mere buttoning of a button but drama is my middle name and also, I one time had my hair done at a salon called Dramatics NYC. I still carry the torch of that blow dry with me everywhere I go.
3. You can see my buttcheek through your rearview mirror which is extravagantly silhouetted in part due to my skin bulging out of the rigid denim.
Conclusion: wear this! You have nothing to lose.