Liza Minelli once said that the hardest part of being sober is waking up every day. I couldn't agree more, but the NH Caucuses joined to a post in the NY Magazine Shopping section heralding indeed gloating over the return of the dreaded spandex legging - worn as a pant - is about to push me over the edge. Whatever takes me to unconscious numbness the quickest that's what I am talking about. What is worse, Anderson Cooper addressing RALPH REED as some sort of pundit, or the New York magazine fashionistas endorsing what I will call possibly the greatest fashion atrocity of the Twentieth (and now Twentyfirst) Century?
I had already noticed portents of sartorial doom, the harbingers of tackiness unleashed gullible innocent undergraduates, eagerly sashaying around town and bringing on BEFPTS (Bad Eighties Fashion Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome). Note the photo, which assumes the woman wearing this (yes, the woman who courts danger and a very real possibility of an embarrasing ailment in her future...but let's not go there) is assumed to be anorexic and her thighs are separated by a chasm wider than the ideological divide between Bush and the Axis of Evil.
In reality the way the leggings are most likely to flatter a woman's figure is more like this:
Yes, that is ICE T and his lovely wife Coco. I should at least give her a shout out for confidently rocking the offending garment, fully at ease with what can only be called a Chacon-sized coolan.
The ICE T photo is from one of my fave blogs gofugyourself.
Below, the offending article:
http://nymag.com/shopping/features/42567/?om_u=Bqihpy&om_i=_BHg7a2BrFneP4n&aid=388690249&mid=1796634511&time=1199814326&issue=_BHg7a2BrFneP4n
