2004-06-10 - 2:30 p.m.

i do not wear short pants. i do not own any short pants. i think they look silly on people. i've polled a few of my friends on this, and most of them agree with me that shorts look silly. we're just getting into the dog days of sticky humid summer here in new york city, and i still won't wear shorts. i have a series of lightweight pants and long skirts to get me through the season.

why? it's complex. for one, due to my conservative christian upbringing, i consider it immodest. i'll wear a tiny bikini top and don't mind showing quite a bit of cleavage, but for some reason showing naked thigh still seems verboten. another reason is that shorts look ridiculous on me. while i often boast about my spectacular rack, i'm a bit hippy and my legs are not as shapely as i'd prefer. additionally, as a redhead, i'm so pale that the skin on my legs might blind an innocent bystander if allowed to reflect the sunlight.

after chess club on monday, i was picked up by a perfectly nice young man. he bought me a drink and we chatted amiably. he was wearing short pants and sadly battered glasses. i could not take him seriously. i pointed out that the bent frames sends out a signal to potential dates that reads 'academic', (which in the parlance of most new york single women is the same as 'cash-poor'). he is not an academic, actually has a lucrative and interesting job, and had no reason to send this signal. but the short pants sent a more complex signal to me, composed primarily of 'collegiate', 'unserious', and 'too casual'.

i continued talking to him despite my misgivings. he has excellent taste in wine, which i appreciate. if he wears actual pants next time i see him, i'll let it slide.