What's up with the sweeping gowns?

Call me an olde cougar, but the fashion of the young folks often puzzles me. Like last year's puffy mini-dresses.

This year it's the floor-length sundress. When your legs are tan and waxed and you've worked out all winter to show off, why would you want to shroud yourself in Scarlett O'Hara's curtains?

When one is creeping into clubs with a fake ID and has a midsection the width of a sapling, why take a fashion cue from Phyllis Diller? (Hell, I had visited Fogo de Chao this weekend and proudly flaunted the fact I had consumed a small Argentine impala by wearing a short, figure-appropriate garment.)

When it's a 105-degree heat index, why make things worse?

If one lives in a godless Western empire, why voluntarily don the bottom half of a burka?

To paraphrase the younger generation, WTF?

But most importantly...

when walking through Adams Morgan at 2 a.m., the LAST thing you want is for the hem of your dress to be dragging on the sidewalk. Just sayin'