Oh, sure Eileen Fisher, just go ahead with your ridiculously expensive cotton clothes and your hideous cut-off-at-the-calf breezy summer pants that so many of my colleagues will be wearing this summer and undercutting their own DIGNITY as they worship the false idols of COMFORT, Eileen, they do and you KNOW that. So you DESIGN these pants on PURPOSE and MARKET them to women who convince themselves that just because they can pull on these pants that they actually FIT which they Do NOT, Eileen, these pants do not FIT ANYONE and the reason for that is that you never DESIGN ANYTHING THAT HAS AN ACTUAL FIT. It all just sort of FLOWS and HANGS there off the body, which I guess if one is tall and elegant and has amazing muscle tone and posture and fantastically elegant hair and make-up and accessories and a fresh mani/pedi, well, OKAY, that MIGHT look halfway decent. Sure. But SHOW me a typical working woman in my profession who has that kind of perfect body and bearing and sense of style to carry off these pants without veering right off the road into the Frumpy Ditch and I’ll give you a hundred bucks, Eileen Fisher, and that right there is a BET. That right there is a THROW DOWN. You find a minister who you personally, with all your designerly expertise, think looks respectable in these here chopped-off-at-the-calf PANTS and I will personally hand you 100 crisp dollar bills from my own hand. Did you hear me, Eileen Fisher, famous designer of overpriced unstructured garb? ONE HUNDRED CRISP DOLLAR BILLS, my friend! Because IT. CAN’T. BE. DONE.
No one should wear these pants in any working capacity. Ever.
And don’t go whining about the heat because all it costs you to maintain your professional integrity is a FEW MORE LOUSY INCHES OF COTTON, for the love of all that is holy, and you’re not going to PERISH in the BRUTAL CONDITIONS of your average day in ministry. And think of how grateful you’ll be with your CALVES properly covered when you start tripping over anacondas and scorpions and other dangerous and poisonous wildlife that you’re bound to come into contact with in the course of your WORK IN THE SAVAGE HEAT OF THE TROPICS, which is where everyone apparently lives now since they can’t manage to TOLERATE THE OPPRESSIVE SENSATION OF CLOTH ON THEIR ENTIRE LEG.
JUST WEAR PANTS! OR SKIRTS AND DRESSES! SO MANY CHOICES!
WHY, GODS, WHY DO YOU MOCK ME?
*Goes to lie down with a cool cloth over her eyes*