To the lady who wears white pants…

Hello,

First off I’d like to say I’m happy to see you at the gym. We don’t know eachother and if I saw you on the street I don’t think I would even know you as a frequent gymer. But you’re doing something toward a healthier life and for that I applaud you.

Yet, today I saw something disturbing covering the lower half of your body. It wasn’t exactly the white pants you were wearing per se. But rather, it was the ill-fitting black undies you were sporting underneath the snug white pants that I wanted to talk to you about.

Clearly I’m no one to talk. I wear Naots that are about 10 years old. I also wear hot pink shorts when the weather permits. But I’m a semi-hippie, and doubly I have a wild side where I want to show off my runner’s leg every now and then.

But the one thing I do know about fashion, Mrs. White Pants Lady, is that you don’t wear white pants if:

a) you are over 150 pounds. I’m not even saying 150 pounds is fat, but if you over this weight and of normal height, white pants just aren’t for you. I’m sorry.
b) you only own black underwear that is all bunchy so anyone within viewing distance can clearly see your granny panties showing through.

In some cases, like if you were trendy or a hipster or a free spirit I could understand if you wanted to purposely wear a polka dotted pair of underroos to show off how trendy/hipster/free spirited you actually are. But you, Mrs. White Pants Lady, weren’t that type of girl. Even if I don’t know you at all, I can just tell. You are just another person going to work and when you walk off to a meeting, someone is going to say something behind your back.

So I hope you read this because I wouldn’t want you to make the same mistake twice. I once forgot to pack a bra in my gym bag, so I wore my coat for the first half of the day to cover up my floppy boobs. We’ve all been there. Hopefully, you won’t be there again.

Have a good one.

Word,
Barrie