Fashion Roadkill of the Day: Vol 49
Lately I've been wonderful to be around. Everybody's been trying to guess what's come over me. Is it because I've stopped taking medication? Started new medication? Or just a new haircut? Why no silly, it's because I've finally made peace with leggings.
Like anyone else I thought they were harbingers of death and destruction to street fashion. Slowly they would work their way into everyone's attire until we would all be transformed into the lycra-bound walking undead. But the more I saw the more I began to understand them. Yes they are ugly and they serve no real purpose and 99.99% of people don't have the ankles for them, but they're part of our history. It's not up to us to selectively decide what to ignore and what to celebrate. If we turn our backs on leggings, we might as well erase from our collective memories the entire catalogue of 80s fashion. Let's just pretend shoulderpads, side ponytails and double t-shirts in pastel colours never existed! Absurd!
I tell you I was making such good progress, I'd even stopped gagging at the sight of lace leggings (see above right)! Then BAM! Out of nowhere, it all came undone by a woman who didn't know the meaning of middle-aged.
Flesh-coloured leggings. A formidable adversary indeed. They lull you into thinking that you're going to be treated to an impromptu show of a stranger's ladybits and then you take a closer look against your better judgment and it turns out to be much much worse. So now I'm back to hating leggings, and not to mention flesh-coloured sleeves too.
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