So I hate television, sure. It warps the mind and stuff. Yeah. But man, I think I have downloaded every episode of "Scrubs" to date, and hell yeah, I'll watch them twice if you cook up the popcorn. I am just desperately in love with John Michael Dorian. Look at how his green scrubs bring out his eyes sometimes. Those sweet puppy dog eyes.
I mention "Scrubs" because I'm emphatically anti-khakis. There have been some perfectly hot boys that I have passed up on the khaki principle alone. So how can a lady like me not appreciate a TV show in which one female character says to another, neurotic female character in a misinterpreted sarcastic tone: "How can khakis, a white shirt and a scarf not be considered sexy?"
I personally have yet to see for myself some sexy khakis. Khakis to me say, "I work at Old Navy." That means that you're wearing a microphone/headset thingamijig over your head and you're calling back to Mike to wonder if there might be another pair of faded boot-cut, mild-flairs in a size 9. That's not really sexy if you're a lady, and its just plain disturbing if you're a boy.
I've read in numerous articles that khakis are a closet staple. But I am on an anti-khaki crusade. Who decided these were so necessary? And am I wrong in thinking that in 1976, the height of fashion greatness (come on, seriously, you'll never convince me that everybody in Saturday Night Fever isn't the hottest thing you have ever seen), that khakis had yet to be invented?
Especially traumatic are pleated khakis.
I did, however, notice that all the schoolkids in London wore the cutest damn uniforms ever.
Seriously, everybody. Things are all crazy and fucked up right now - the big world is going crazy and my little one is all discombobulated. Let me talk about fashion. Sometimes I needs to ground myself in meaningless bullshit that I happen to find amusing. Just go with me here.