Okay, so fall is here. I know the calendar says it’s summer for another week or something idiotic, but we all know the truth. As soon July ends we put our 84 bikinis away (seriously, where tf did all these come from?), yank out the sweaters and scarves, and start looking up the dates that the pumpkin patch will be open. I was woken up by thunder this morning, and was instantly seized by a desire to toss on a holiday sweater and combat boots and then insist it was too cold for sex without socks on.
I’m 100% on board with all this. I’m ready to say goodbye to sweaty thighs and an astronomical air conditioning bill, and hello to misty mornings and Halloween decorations. It’s time to pack my shorts away and let my buttcheeks go into their annual hibernation period, which is fine, except for one thing.
I’m not ready for legging season.
Leggings are one of those weird phenomenons that have become more a religion than a clothing piece. And leggings are great– sometimes. But here’s my problem: a lot of the time, those fuckers are more trouble than they’re worth.
First of all, no pockets. I can’t count the times I’ve literally bounced my phone off my own ass cheek while attempting to slide it into a non-existent back pocket. I’ve had several cracked screens and public meltdowns due to leggings, and definitely not due to my own idiocy and immaturity. On top of that, unless I’m willing to shell out what feels like an entire paycheck for lulus or some other expensive athlesiure brand, it’s really hard to find a pair that don’t appear see-through in at least some types of lighting. I’m so over seeing my reflection in a store window and having to be like, cool, everyone can see my butt again. Don’t make me into that cliché.
On top of all my personal issues, though, are my grievances toward other girls in leggings. Some of you look fab, and I’ll admit that freely. Some of you find the Holy Grail of leggings, the ones that actually slim your thighs and hold your ass up at the same time, while also looking stylish (probably with boots of some kind, which is basic, but who cares? Still cute.). Most of the time, though, you bought the same pair of shitty, $12.99 leggings that I did from the store’s hastily set up fall rack also covered in fugly orange sweaters. I’m tired of watching the poor girl in front of me in the Starbucks line attempt to yank the cheap material of those bad boys out of her buttcrack. It’s not fair to her, or more importantly, to me.
I’m annoyed at the prospect of another autumn season spent watching groups of hungover chicks with their greasy hair in a messy bun stumbling to brunch and complaining about the cold, each with a camel toe and a pair of see-through leggings on that will probably be worn as pajamas tonight, too. Leggings were made so all of us could put forth even less effort into our appearance than we already do, in the name of comfort, and I’m saying enough is enough.
Go ahead, be basic for fall. Just be basic, like, better. That’s all I ask. Or at the very least, throw out last season’s worn out leggings and invest in a few new pairs without holes in the crotch, k?.