Schizo Chic

Indecision is the God-given right of every woman. I don't care if that is a cliché or if it makes me a cliché to say it — there's a reason certain things become truisms, and that's because they're, well, true. I've changed my mind on thousands of things over the years. Why, just a few weeks ago I curtly refused a gentleman's offer of gin by explaining to him that I don't touch the stuff, and then bam! Last Sunday I woke up with a blinding gin-induced hangover from spending the greater part of Saturday night knocking back gin martinis. (For the record, I once again no longer touch the stuff.)  

And like most chronically-tardy women, in the moments leading up to an event that I will undoubtedly be late for, I stand before my open closet in my undergarments confounded by whether the outing calls for pants or shorts. Could this be why Bernhard Willhelm designed these?

 

God, I hope not. Because if Herr Willhelm thinks I'm gonna wear these just because he made them for me and my ilk, he's gonna be sorely disappointed. Of course it begs the question, for whom did he design these...shants? Ports? Shousers? Torts? I don't know what to call them. Other than hideous and wrong.

I wonder if they'd make you walk weird? Or if they would inadvertently force you to work that much harder at toning your right leg resulting in lopsided muscle definition? Maybe the designer can partner up with Reebok and get them to sell those EasyTone shoes in singles. That way the flabby pant leg can get a workout with every step and try to catch up to the sexy shorts leg. Come to think of it, Herr Willhelm has just cut all of our workout times in half with these things. And for that, we thank you.