Fashion insanity, not necessary

Nikki Jagerman

Flare jeans and flip-flops, bare legs and cleavage, and Crocs with anything. All of these combinations are big-time fashion no-nos and that make me cringe. Board shorts in January? Those should be tucked away in October and not seen again until April.

The opposite goes for beanies and fur-lined jackets. Dressing sensibly and appropriately doesn’t mean spending more than you can afford on new clothes, it just requires reworking your wardrobe and keeping it somewhat up-to-date.

For beginners, finding clothes that fit properly is essential. When girls wear shirts that are short and tight and usually expose their belly button ring, no one is impressed.

Likewise, when pop-punk-loving guys with tiny band shirts and their hair dyed black strut the streets, both sexes ignore their small frame because no man of any size should wear clothes that tight.

After finding clothes that fit and flatter the figure you have, age-appropriateness and seasonality come into play.

People think I’m crazy to rotate my closet in October and April, but those people are also wearing Rainbows in January, so any opinion they have should be disregarded. You should also never take advice from old women who dress like their granddaughters.

The worst I’ve seen recently was spotted in the Sahara tent at Coachella. This woman had the face and eyeliner of Keith Richards, the skin that results from a lifetime of tanning, and platinum dread locks. This woman was in her 60s, no joke. She decided to wear a little hot pink wife beater and a denim mini skirt. It was gross.

Experts can dress ironically. That doesn’t mean wearing shirts that are supposed to be quirky and clever but aren’t (like Urban Outfitters’ graphic tees ranging from the ever-popular “Frankie Says Relax” to the pseudo political conscious “Obama Says Knock You Out”). Jeremy Scott and the Cobrasnake are icons in the ironic fashion realm.

The key to pulling it off is confidence, and if you’re wearing the multicolored Louis Vuitton fanny pack with neon Nike bike shorts and a giant muscle tank, you’re going to need it. Just about every column about fashion or modesty has incited some angry letters to the editor.

If my memory serves me correctly, the last letter called the column writer a frigid b****. After a semester of writing columns about Dov Charney, Jessica’s Law, and Jenna Jameson’s feature film “Zombie Strippers,” I can say the following without ridicule.

Modest is hottest.

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