You Forgot Your Pants

There is a disturbing phenomenon happening at the moment in fashion. People keep forgetting their pants.

I started noticing this last spring. Women on the streets of the city with what appeared to be shirts, with no pants or skirts. Some were button downs, like they stole them from their boyfriends or their dads, belted. Some were what looked like long t-shirts. Sometimes they were dresses that were shirt-sized. But each and every time, legs up to here and more often than not, a piece of butt now and then peeking out.

This summer, my parents and I were walking through the city and I pointed one out to my mom: "See that girl, she forgot her pants." My mother looked at the woman, looked at me and said, horrified "Oh my god, she did!" I laughed and explained the phenomenon. She was doubtful. But then the next one and the next one and the next one walked by. Each time, my mother pointed and stared. By the time she was getting on the T to go home, she was as disturbed as I was.

Let me clarify on age and size of these women. Varied. All over the map. Young and cute and small. Not-so-young, not so cute, not so small. Sometimes one would have tried to have sense by putting on tights or nylons (not leggings, mind you). This, while a valiant effort, often makes it worse. Now your ass cheek is peeking at me through purple nylon? This is supposed to be better?

Sitting down is always a challenge. On the T, crotch shots abound. What are these women thinking? Do I want to see your underwear? No, not really. And especially not at 7:30 a.m. And where are you going? To work or school? This hardly seems appropriate attire for either. If you want a bare ass at the club, fine, but I think your teachers and co-workers would appreciate a fully clothed person to show up.

Now, I'm a pretty conservative dresser, I'll admit. Not as conservative as some people (I'm considered in my family to be a little on the trendy side in comparison). But I cover up my bits. Fully. Maybe I'll show a little cleavage now and then, but boobs are not orifices. Stuff does not accidentally come out of them. (Graphic, I know, but seriously people!) I realize that I am not the best judge of what's hip or appropriate. I came of age during grunge, where we wore flannel and 4 layers and jeans with tights and big boots and long underwear under skirts. All our clothes were 2 sizes too big. I borrowed my dad's jeans in high school (he is 6'4" and weighed 215 at his skinniest) and his sweaters whenever he wasn't looking. I understand this. But this swing so far in the other direction is problematic, I think.

Boys aren't dressing like this. I don't ever see a guy out walking around with short shorts on. Or a dude with his package somehow highlighted for the world to check out. There is no equivalent to this for men. Women are expected to leave nothing to the imagination and walk around half naked (literally), but men are allowed to continue to wear cargo shorts hanging down to their mid-calves that are so baggy I can't even tell if they are fit or not. Let's not turn this into a feminism argument, but women continue to be objectified and objectify themselves through fashion. It's a problem.

My female co-workers, who are all far younger than I, agree with me. None of them would be caught in an outfit like this. They joke that they want to get stickers made up that say "This is where your pants should be" and then stick them on people's legs as a public service. I am pleased that there is this group I know who show me that it is not every woman who is willing to bear her ass in public. Because I'm certainly not going to any time soon (even though my ass is much smaller than it used to be these days).

So, women of the world. Put on some pants. Or a skirt. Anything on the bottom that covers up that half of you somewhat. Be risque if you like. I had a long, black, see-through skirt in college. I wore it with black tights. You could see my legs right through it. It was sexy and fun. But it wasn't obscene. There's a difference. The man who is checking you out on the street should be wondering what you look like under that cute dress you're wearing. He should be striving towards getting you out of it to enjoy his first look. But he doesn't have to do any of that, because he can see it all already, right there on the street. And then he goes home and masturbates to the vision. Hardly romantic.

Start a movement. Get some pants.