I get it. Lindsay Lohan is the leggings queen. Whether it’s under a t-shirt, a skirt or a dress that might as well be a t-shirt, she’s got them on. So you win, LiLo. The Miss Leggings USA title is yours. But you know, I have to question your business acumen because I really don’t see the longevity in a business that actually manufactures and sells said leggings. Especially if the point is to create leggings that are more ludicrous than what’s already out there:
Look at those honeys. You can get quality footless leggings with quilted, padded leather knee pads. And to add the irony of all ironies, the name of this particular style is called “Mr. President.” (I would NOT have expected that sort of innuendo blatancy from a proper lady like Lindsay Lohan.) And you can buy them for only $132.
I can just see girls across the nation saving up their monthly allowances for a pair, itching to wax “Lewinsky in the 2000s” (because blue Gap dresses are “so ’90s”). But too bad, because apparently they are already sold out. Clearly, her business acumen is sharper than mine.
See, the legging/accessories line is called “6126.” Why, you ask? Well, according to the description … it “happens to be the birth date of Hollywood icon Marilyn Monroe-[Lindsay’s] inspiration for the collection.” Now HOW, pray tell me, do leggings with knee pads result out of anything Marilyn Monroe-inspired? Or leggings period? Or anything else in the collection, that is?
Yes, leopard “ankle gloves,” at $46. I actually don’t really know what to say about them, I’m so baffled. How are they gloves? And how would these accentuate any possible outfit positively? Is this simply meant to be a reminder that LiLo basically tried to be Marilyn herself in a recent New York Mag shoot? Oh we still remember that, Lindsay, apart from all the other times the public has seen you naked.
And yet, I have a confession to make.
See, my doctor caught me in a LiLo moment.
I mean, the exam was simple enough. He’s my orthopaedic doctor and surgeon, after all. He had performed arthroscopic surgery on my left shoulder a year prior – but now I needed him to check out my right knee, which hurt after running a couple miles recently.
To do so, he needed to roll up my pant leg for the … leg exam. Except, I wasn’t wearing pants. I was wearing footless leggings.
Yes, I was wearing footless leggings. The shame of The LiLo. The fashion lowbrow of Los Angeles (New Yorkers would tell you; so would the Fug girls).
See, I had denied myself leggings up until just before then. I had thought they were the most unflattering things to come back from the 90s. The excuse of excuses to wear the shortest of skirts, or to feign T-shirts as dresses. The horizontal bottom hemline is inherently visually unflattering because it makes your legs look shorter than they actually are. But I had given in.
And my doctor mocked me for it.
“Let’s roll up your … what is this? What are these?”
“K, your leggings.” And then: he half-rolled his eyes.
He half-rolled his eyes. Gah.
It was acceptable to give me grief about my work heels the time I saw him before that. I know they’re bad for my arches and bunions. But he hit me where it hurt most – a fashion nerve proven disastrous for a dysfunctional celebrity. He caught me in my most vulnerable state. Ugh. I’m sorry, mister, but mocking what other people wear is my job.
It’s really okay though. I have a leggings quota. I won’t allow myself to wear them more than once or twice per week. It fixes the tendency to rely on them as if a fix-all, layering accessory. And I’ll only wear them under reasonable-length dresses. No shorts, no pants, no dresses where you wonder if they’re tees.
I’ve also sworn off wearing them to doctor’s appointments.
P.S. – Leggings are not tights. Tights are kosher.