Okay, so you know how I complained like an octegenarian the other day about the horrifyingly short hemlines that are in style this season, and how I do not feel comfortable wearing them? Apparently my old lady-ness is worse than I thought- it’s not just me I’m worrying about, it’s everybody else. All I seem to notice are these adorable college-aged girls, here in the Big City for their Big Summer Internship, walking around the loop dressed like they’re looking for clients. Except not in a “professional” kind of way. In a “world’s oldest profession” kind of way.
Seriously, I saw a girl walking around yesterday with her friend on their lunch break in a skirt so short I seriously feared that everyone at the corner of Adams and Dearborn was going to learn whether she favors thongs or bikinis. Another girl was wearing a dress that looked very professional on top- nice silk button-up blouse, attached to a pencil skirt- except the pencil skirt ended approximately 2 inches below her crotch.
But the worst was yesterday at lunch- I was having felafel with my wonderful friend Sara. Next to us, two girls were sitting and chatting. They finished, and as they got up to leave, one girl’s skirt became kind of…um…stuck. In her ass. Like, the material was all bunched up in there, resulting in a kind of… skirt wedgie? With her thighs totally exposed? She was moving too fast for me to stop her and discreetly tell her that she might want to, perhaps, pick her dress out of her butt before heading back out to the street. Fortunately, the situation resolved itself as she walked through the restaurant- but not before the table of six stockbroker-looking guys all noticed and blatantly stared at her as she walked out of the restaurant, then burst into laughter.
Don’t you see, college-aged ladies of Chicago? This is the risk! You wear these adorable dresses that look fine when you’re standing still in front of a mirror- but you’re going to have to sit down eventually! And when you do, your thighs are going to stick to the faux-leather of your office chair, leaving unattractive red marks, and your skirt is going to get stuck up your ass, and douchey banker boys are going to point and laugh. Eventually, you’ll have to walk outside, and you’ll be yanking your dress down awkwardly and living in mortal fear of a stiff breeze.
I don’t know when I turned this corner and became the kind of person who wants to pull these nice young girls aside and tell them, kindly, that young ladies are better served by leaving a little to the imagination. I mean, who AM I? Nineteen year old me is mortified at the boring conservative meddlesome bitch I have become. But COME ON. This is just getting ridiculous. I know times are tough, but I’ve got to think that clothing designers could afford to throw a few more inches of fabric our way. Right? RIGHT?
I KNOW! It’s funny…I walking around my house the other day thinking, “I’m so glad my pants are near my belly button rather than near my ass crack.” For your feelings on hemlines mimic mine on the rise of jeans. Low is not necessarily the way to go.
Also? I snort laughed when you said “douchey banker boys.” Heh.
Um, I’m pretty sure that 19-year-old me would agree with you. Apparently I’ve always been stodgy.
HA HA HA! Oh, I laugh because it’s true. I feel the same way! I work on a university campus and the clothes young ladies wear to class… just… Well, they leave me speechless.
I am currently living with a 22 year old, as you know. She went out in this dress that was SO short last night. And she was all “I look like a Stepford Wife.” And I’m like “a Stepford Wife’s husband’s mistress.”
It makes me feel so old! Older than the fact she went out at 10 PM on a Wed AS I WAS GOING TO BED!
Dude – you know what bugs me?
I’m like super-duper short, and I often buy minis so that my skirts don’t hit mid-calf. Anyhoo, they fall just above the knee, are made of wool, loose fitting, worn with cotton tights and some kind of long-sleeved crew-necked sweater and penny loafers.
And then this year I got a closed-door talk about my wardrobe and how my skirts are too short AND I look like I’m in college.
So I bought a few pairs of high heels and bunch of wrap dresses that hug my body, have a plunging v-neck, but ALSO hit just at the knee. And you know what? Everybody’s like, “OH! You look so much more professional now.”
WTF?
There’s another chick in my department who always wears suits that come exactly to the knee, but I swear that are FITTED as all get out. There is no guessing as to what this gal’s shape is underneath. But again, this is acceptable.
Again, WTF?
Sometimes (not often) I get to be the voice of Pseudo’s past. BFF, I knew you at 19. I shopped with you at 19 (okay, 20, but whatever). At 19, you and I were just as judgmental as we are now and, I’m sorry to say, we were hardly the pinnacle of hip fashion choices. (I believe you once gave me photos that proved this which I burned in shame.) Remember walking around SF, judging people our own age and saying “well, that’s an ‘interesting personal choice?’
I love you, but this has less to do with aging and more to do with your solid moral compass about comfort, fashion, and propriety…
PS – remember how much you praised the brunette? I couldn’t hold out. Bring on the bleach.
Bwah ha ha ha. And just so true! The red marks on the back of your bare thighs from prolonged contact with nasty fake leather chairs/restaurant booths/ desk chairs. The enormous wedgie. The fact that wind equals public humiliation. WHY do that to yourself?!
I was there! It was awful! The clinging! To the butt! To be honest, I was the one closest to the poor girl and should have said something but was too horrified. I hang my head in shame.
Today I saw a girl wearing a jumpsuit, on her way to work (7:30am in the Chicago loop on a Monday…I sure hope it was work). A strapless jumpsuit. With heels. I just shook my head.