They sway on nosebleed-high platforms. Their naked, milky thighs stick to the seats on the No. 1 train. Their soft, sweaty upper arms make contact with anyone sitting next to them. Who are they? They are the skinny ladies in the "band-aid" dresses that I see on the train on Friday nights, going out for a good time.
I'm all for a good time, of course, but why all the flesh? Why the pressure of being rail-thin enough to wear these teeny, tiny dresses that barely cover their butts, swaying atop platform soles (about 2-3 inches high at the toes, and soaring 6-7 inches at the heels) that would make a tayu reach for her yakko's shoulder. But there ain't no yakko available, at least not at the beginning of the evening. Almost as bad is the day-wear - looser dresses, equally short, which one can neither sit down in comfortably nor climb stairs in without giving everyone a free show. We had shows, too, when I was a kid, but they weren't supposed to be free.
Lest anyone think I am letting older women off the hook, consider the yards of middle-aged cleavage spilling out of low-cut tops among the older set on the way home. Honestly, I hate to be a killjoy, or sound that much like a frump - properly foundated middle-aged cleavage can work, but not at Target lingerie prices. Add in that at least 50% of the people on the train on any given day are visibly overweight, and you get the not-very-pretty picture.
Are guys off the hook? Mostly, because guys always seem to dress with their own comfort in mind first. So yeah - flipflops, baggy shorts, stretched out t-shirts - nobody is going to grace the cover of GQ in these outfits, especially with that ultra-important guy heatwave accessory - the wet washcloth draped over the top of the head. But at least I don't have to involuntarily look at so many exposed body parts, unless you consider knobby knees offensive (a knobby knee person myself, I can't really complain).
Recently, there have been reports of a serial groper on the Upper East Side. The guy is built like a jockey, apparently - 4'11" and about 120 pounds. I don't in any way want to condone his actions, but if the people he's groping are dressed like the women I see on the train, it could be considered a crime of opportunity.
Look, we used to push the envelope as far as our parents would let us - halter tops (which, in spite of various excesses, I have rarely seen in the past 20 years), braless by definition, were a summer fashion staple when I was a kid (joke - "You can borrow my halter top." Response: "I have nothing to halt!"). Cut off jeans shorts (remember Daisy Duke was just a descendant of Ellie Mae Clampett, who herself was a descendant of Lil' Abner's Daisy Mae), and the dresses were exactly finger-tip length (longer than they frequently are now). Guys were just as bad, wearing cutoffs so short their balls hung out when they sat down. Amusing, yes, but there's a time and a place.
Is there hope? Yes. As the current heatwave drags on (and on, and on), I am seeing more and more women opt for long skirts and sundresses that sweep the ankles. When made out of linen or cotton or rayon, fabrics that absorb moisture from the air and are cool to the touch, they are amply better than exposing your skin to the sun and subsequent heat, if not UV rays.
And the wearers don't stick to the seats on the No. 1 train.
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