Sometimes, when people discover that I prefer dresses — that, in fact, I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about dresses — they are instantly suspicious. "What do you have against pants?" they ask. "Do you hate pants?"
"No," I reply, in a calm, even voice. "I don't hate pants. I wear pants a lot. I just prefer skirts and dresses, that's all."
They often don't believe me, in the same way that some vegans secretly believe that people who eat meat must not like tofu. They won't believe a preference for one thing doesn't automatically lead to a hatred for the opposite. They believe that a liking for Dr. Pepper signals an anti-Mr. Pibb agenda or possibly vendetta; that a fondness for the color blue means you secretly hate orange.
You know what? Those doubters may be right, because last night I almost started to hate pants.
Check out this first pair:

OMG the fug! The dropped waist! The pindots! The pegged legs! The horror!
But then, I saw these.

At first, I only saw the polka dots–I was intrigued! I reached out! Then I actually — and I have a witness — shrieked in dismay. Nobody, but nobody, should wear polka-dot leggings. There oughta be a law. In fact, the manufacture, distribution, or sale of polka-dot leggings should be illegal in the 48 contiguous states, and highly restricted, at the very least, in Hawaii, Alaska, Puerto Rico, and Guam.
But oh, the Day of Pants Horror (or, as it is also styled, El Dia de Pantalones de Terror) continued with these white monstrosities:

Now, if that one isn't enough to make you fall to your knees and beg your dresses for forgiveness, I don't know what would.
So. My faith in my open-mindedness in regard to pants-wearing (of the literal, not metaphorical kind) has been shaken by seeing THREE Pants of the End Times in one day. That's gotta be a sign, and not a good one. If I see dead birds tomorrow, or there's an eclipse, or lots of people in acid-washed denim bustier sundresses, I'll know it's all over and I'll make my plans for the eschaton. In fact, those plans will probably involve a new dress …