Seriously, Leggings are Driving Me Nuts

I am having a major issue. LEGGINGS. I own them; 3 prices exactly. 2 black, 1 charcoal grey. For those of who don't know me, I am the total package....in someone's mind....Seriously, I am 5'4. I am short. When I wear leggings, I wear a boot that comes up nearly to my knee and a shirt or sweater that hits mid-thigh. Why? Because:

A. I am a teacher and there is no reason for me to parade my junk in such a public forum.

B. Do people really want to see me parade my junk in such a public forum, especially when leggings tend to be somewhat on the sheer side?

A few weeks ago, a woman was holding on to her man's gut while he took her for a ride around town on his hog. I had the unfortunate pleasure of looking directly at her gluteus maximus. Why? LEGGINGS!!! The angle at which this woman was sitting did not help her case whatsoever, but had she been wearing jeans or a longer shirt/coat/sari, my hand would not have been forced to take a picture and post it on Facebook. And no, I was not driving.

Even if this woman had on sweats, I would not have been essentially mooned by this woman. I practically had to go and purchase a pair of Blublocker sunglasses, for this moon was so bright. Case in point, leggings are not for everybody nor are they for every situation.

Here is another example. I believe some middle aged women have saved their leggings from the 80's, waiting for the day when they would come back into the mainstream. I believe their discovery of the re-emergence of "the legging" took place while flipping through the thick, September, fall fashion issue of Vogue while sitting in the waiting room of the dentist. Forgetting about the cleaning they were about to receive, they raced home, blowing through stop signs. These women climbed the steps to their overheated attics or dug through old boxes until they found the one marked 'LEGGINGS'. They shouted; "Victory is mine!!!" The problem with this is that these women, women who I know, neglected to update their looks. At least 3 days a week, I see way more of their bodies than I, or others I know, would like to see. Truth be told, I believe one of these women was sold a bag goods. The goods being plaid tights. TIGHTS, not LEGGINGS, worn with a shirt too short to be a tunic, but too long to be a shirt. A smullet (semi-mullet) and leopard print shirt are also not a decade into the millennium’s way to update an old look.

Am I perfect in the ways of fashion sense? 98 percent of the time. I come out with a few whoppers every now and then, usually when in the company of Robyn. Let's flashback to last June: I show up to Penn Station in a red tank top, jean shorts and blue sneakers. Clearly showing my patriotism, Robyn did not get the memo to dress like a participant in a Flag Day ceremony and arrives with an LV Speedy bag, a cute green dress, and what I believe was a hangover. A week ago, I met up with Robyn in a black shirt, sneakers and camo-pants; cute ones, not faux army ones. All was good until my "twin" was standing 5 feet from me in Penn donning carpenter syle camo pants and a black t shirt. Oh--and the National Guard, also in camo. Notice what these outfits have in common? They are NOT LEGGINGS!!! Neither my underwear, nor my ass, was visible to Manhattan.

Just when I think the leggings situation cannot get any worse, my eyes, unshielded by Blublockers, spy a tall man at the gym. He had one longish piece of blonde hair pulled across his forehead and a pair of tight running pants. Ok--it is the gym, but the pants were sheer. I saw not just the outer hem of his tidies (Canchenko provided that description...thanks...) but the actual tidies. This guy was sold a bag of goods too...he was Thank God summer is coming soon...