Notice to the public: Leggings and Tights are not pants

badleggings.jpg

In troubled times, such as we live in today, one tries not to blow situations out of proportion with long winded hyperbole, and merely state facts and trends without untoward biased or subjective content.  I, Caleb Finch (reporter), hope to quickly gain your trust as a writer of journalistic morality and balance.  That being said, wearing leggings or tights instead of pants is the worst thing in the world, ever.  

Now, I would be remiss to believe that I am the only (extremely) lonely soul out here to come to this conclusion, but the situation still dangles dangerously in front of us like an ugly persons poorly tucked-in towel at the Y.  It's like Bono is out there, doing stuff.  To be fair, I don't particularly know what Bono does (or what he believes in, or even if Oasis is still together) but at the end of the day is he really helping?  Those people are still killing each other, or starving, or whatever.  Again, I don't know much about Bono, but I do know this:  If you wear leg sheaths that perfectly contour every aspect of your lower body and do not have further material covering your flotsam and jetsam, you are a horrible person and your parents are disappointed in you.  

You may think that the look “works for you,” but If any right minded individual sees you like this they are, more than not, going to assume that you are a massive crack whore.  Perhaps, that you are a crack whore unable to afford pants due, in part, to the crack.  And let's just be frank (if your name is frank, otherwise be whatever your name is), this is not a matter of personal appearance.  I'm not saying, “Most people can't pull this off but if you weigh a hundred go for it.”  Do not go for it.  Nobody can make this work!  Also, you need to eat, girl!  Wearing leggings for pants is the perpetual motion machine of fashion.  As in, it will never work in our lifetime, and I do strongly believe this is because of Newtonian Physics.

In conclusion, I realize that, perhaps, some of those who choose to participate in this illicit activity may not be thinking purely in terms of aesthetic fashion.  Some may be caving to peer pressure.  Others might be blind, or have severe learning disabilities.  Lastly, a portion could be only be trying to express a level of general youthfulness and sexuality to those around them.  To the latter, I would like to say this:  I'm pretty sure that they make shirts that just say “slut” on them.  Problem solved.

Rebuttal by Tony Foti, Professor of Art History 

Because Butts.

Editors Note:  Jeggings were not covered in this article by Mr. Finch, but he did include a five seven five haiku, as follows.

Boy in screamo band

with jeggins and two tone hair

looks like a huge douche 

Caleb Finch

The TARDIS, 517 Natoma, San Francisco, Ca 94103, USA

Caleb Nathan Friedrich was born in a small coal mining town in northern Pennsylvania to his biological parents Gretchen and Ivan Friedrich. Being the Friedrich’s eleventh child, and seeing the steady decline of Ivan’s health, Caleb was dropped into the, then tumultuous, foster care system. When he turned sixteen he gathered what few items he had and set out to make his mark on the world. Forging false identification and assuming the surname Finch, he was able to talk his way into position for the world renowned San Francisco Inquisitor. He went on to become the newspaper’s longest running editor and chief, and has had many printed collections, including The Time I Spent and The View From the Engine Room. In 1943, Caleb passed away by succoming to his long and painful fight against Butt Aids. It is belived by some that his ghost still haunts different locations in San Francisco, and that it's sort of a dick.