Short Shorts: Why I wear them

If it were a crime to wear shorts so short that you were forced to wonder about the length of my underwear then I would be guilty ten times over. Some people consider them offensive or unspeakably fashionable, but I do not believe that I have ever really cared. The truth about clothes that they do not teach you in whatever school that people go to learn about fashion criticism is that clothes are more about the wearer than they are about the viewer.

It's like sweatpants. If you decide that a particular day is sweats day then that day is sweats day Joan Rivers be damned. I feel the same way about short shorts. If there is a time, and a place, and the wearing of them is unlikely to lead to an encounter with hypothermia, I usually always say yes.

I realise that they're a bit of a daring item of clothing for some, so I'll explain how it was that I became so comfortable in them.

When I was much younger than I am now, I spent a great deal of time running around swimming pools. Apart from all the health benefits that swimming offers, it gives all who do it fairly regularly a truly spectacular amount of comfort with their nudity. After you've been seen cavorting in speedos by a multitude, wearing shorts with a 5 inch long in seam is no great achievement.

Some people will say that you should dress like a fashion blogger, and take risks with the clothes that you wear, but I disagree. You should dress for your comfort, because you never look better than when you are comfortable with who you are and what you are. If you wear clothes that encourage this, you won't feel the need to apologise for anything or explain anything.

So if you feel the need to explain why you've opted for shorts that show your quad biceps to full effect then you probably shouldn't wear them. It would probably help if you didn't take any pictures with your arse hanging out. If you're a man, and your bum isn't instrumental in the business of your money making, then the look what a fantastic bum I have instagram picture is never a good idea.

Happy Days,
Afam.

 I apologise for the the epic manspread in that picture and I apologise for where my hand is in it. I was sleeping on my way back from seeing the grandparents. When I sleep I find that my hands do not obey the demands of public decorum.