OK America, we have an obsession with icy buns.
You may question what I mean by this, but I have an illustration below.
Illustration:
leggings/yoga pants
pants on the ground (my homeschooler vocab fails to find a proper term for the phenomena)
I live in a northern state. I watch people run around with their cheeks falling out thinking, "Ew stop!" and when my eyes heal slightly, "Aren't you getting frost bite in a very sensitive area of your anatomy?"
I mean, we have sub-arctic temperatures and your only protection from the elements is a shred of breathable fabric. VERY breathable fabric. Your butt don't need to breathe.
I will never understand the fashions myself.
Sure, I guess if you have a nice figure the whole leggings thing could go for you. I personally don't choose to lay bare my every curvature for perverts to oggle. But that's just me.
Ouch, that was a bit harsh Emma.
And I'll never like the pants-below-your-butt-thing. I remember a dude who insisted wearing jeans that way despite the metal chair. In a cold outbuilding. In January. *shiver* Then he stood up and the chair came with him. Frozen. To. His. Toosh.
OK, so that didn't happen. But that was kinda what was going through my mind as we sat there freezing.
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