I hate to be the grinch who stole summer, but we’ve gotten to that point in the season where the streets are filled with short-wearers and I, for one, would like to lodge a complaint.

Now I’ll admit up front that I fall very firmly into the anti-short category; it has to be faced that in the majority of instances they’re just not the most flattering option.  Some people (we’ll call them Experimental Group A) look incredible in shorts, walking goddesses in abbreviated trews.  The only problems is that E.G.A. would also look good in a brown paper bag and, as such, are a tiny subset of the population. 

Sadly, the rest of us fall into Experimental Groups B-Z. Group B is comprised of those with marginally less perfection in their lower limbs and, at the other end of the spectrum, Group Z is made up of those of us who, even in the sweltering depth of summer, refuse to be parted from either some thick opaque tights or a pair of (full-length) pants.

There’s no shame here. Group Q probably looks like a dream in a dress and Group M are, in all likelihood, divine in a drop-crotch.  But, simply because it says July on the calendar, there’s a feeling that everyone must wear shorts.  Perhaps it’s time to take a short break…