Speckeled Heckle

Here is the audition draft of my Heckler for the mag. Needless to say, as it is published here, I was NOT selected to write this column.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don’t consider myself overly critical and I don’t support girl-on-girl crime, so it is not with personal venom that I report this wide-spread fashion faux pas. A sweet boyfriend on a Life Savers commercial might have been too smitten to tell his gal the real reason she had been hearing “muffin top” all day, but I’m just not that sugary. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.

Girls, get rid of your gunt. Unhook the camel toe. Free up your fupa. Your boss did not mention you and muffin tops in the same sentence because you, like Elaine’s favorite half, are just the best! (If all this is a bewildering mess of meaningless slang, spend some time with Urban Dictionary, and give some serious thought to getting hip.)

Indeed, the unfortunate trend of too-small pants and too-tight tops is one that has long prevailed, no matter how ill-fitting. Waistbands whimper and seams scream all over our fair city, and likely any city with people. Men, too, suffer from whatever fever makes wedging into clothes like sausage casings seem like a good idea (you know who you are, boys, and slacks are intended to be worn at a waist, not sadly sagging underneath your beer belly) but females are by far the most notorious perpetrators. Don’t get me wrong, I get the less-than-perfect figure; some of my own curves are dangerous—literally. This is not an attack on a thicker sister but rather a cry for smarter dressing.

Friends, comrades, allies: as depressing as actually picking up that size 14 might be (go ahead, sulk while you hand over the plastic, you show that cashier!), it shouldn’t be half as depressing as the way you look when yo’ stomach “dunlap” over yo’ size 12. The rumors are true: buying that one size bigger will make you look one size smaller. It is much harder to pull off a super-squeezed midsection than elegantly drape your padded places with simple, well-tailored style. It doesn’t have to cost a pretty penny, either. Most retailers carry classic pieces to fit and flatter any woman and the more modest garb will impress your co-workers who are tired of tracing the lines of your bikini briefs through your khakis. Your love handles just might start to love you back.

So, unless you sport a Daisy Duke physique, lose the low-riders and abandon the belly shirt. Scratch that—everyone bail on the belly shirt, it’s not so much a trend as a recurring nightmare. The goal is not citywide lifestyle lifts, only closet makeovers. I don’t knock on voluptuous, but looking like linked meat doesn’t work for anyone.

So go a size up for the greater good, or maybe I’ve just been drinking too much hater-ade. I prefer the purple.