As the girls over at Go Fug Yourself have repeatedly pointed out, a shirt is not a dress, and sheer-ish tights are not pants. And yet there are young women all over the campus of the Ivy League Institution Where I Teach who, despite being more than intelligent enough to attend said Institution, have not figured this out. What’s more, despite our ever-cooler autumn weather, there is a subset of female athletic types who can be seen all over the place wearing tiny little underpant-like shorts with their track and field jackets. (The male athletes seem not to be doing this, more’s the pity.)

Now, as both a feminist and a person who has made more than her fair share of sartorial faux-pas, I will defend to the death any woman’s right to dress like a twit if she really wants to. But there are limits even to my tolerance. Seeing these nouvelles sans-culottes everywhere makes me want to take up an alter-identity as a guerrilla sarong applier. Anyone care to join me?