Sartorial Distress

Take a li’l peek at what Intermix (20th and Broadway) has to offer this week:

Yes, that’s right, kids. A navy blue “onesie” in sweatshirt material with ribbing around the thighs. I haven’t seen anything this atrocious since my mother showed me her bloomers-style gymsuit circa 1951. But even that wasn’t as appalling as this, because, hey, they just didn’t know any better back then. (They didn’t. It’s been scientifically proven and documented. Please write to me for sources and citations.) And that wasn’t offered as relatively high fashion. And that was supposed to be hideous, because, after all, it was a high school gymsuit and those things were (and, I’m sure, still are), by law, required to be hideous and unflattering and make teenaged girls feel even more self-conscious than they already were (are).
As if it isn’t bad enough that we’ve had to endure years of little plaid schoolgirl skirts, thanks to that silly girl known as Britney Spears and perpetuated by who knows how many other so-called pop stars and Japanese porn, now we have to endure the sight of gymsuits on the streets of our fair cities? Who is responsible for this dreck? Gwen Stefani, is it you? Brit? Paris? Some other two-bit interchangeable starlet? Someone, please, ‘fess up. But please, no one wear it.