The Problem of Pants

Yes, dear readers, if you needed proof that there are Very Silly People out in the Catholic blogsphere (and you didn't really need that, did you?) one need look no further than this sort of thing. What is the great threat to the world, to your morals, to your eyes, to your wife's virtue? PANTS! Don't believe me?

REGARDING NOT WEARING THE PANTS
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1.Regardless of your size, shape, or age, the attractiveness of your female figure is virtually always enhanced, while adding to your modesty, when you wear a dress.

2. Do this for us, the minority of chaste men who merit the gift of enjoying your beauty in such a way as to be grateful to your creator without temptation. Make it so it is good for men to look upon you, rather than requiring us to look away (which is a tragedy).
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4. Sadly, and we understand you may not be aware of this, but almost every style of pants reveals private information about your figure (by way of contour) what only your husband (and if not him, no man, including your sons, if you have sons) should perceive.

5. Thus, even a woman endowed with the most spectacular genetic form, in the bloom of her youth, can be given the illusion of ugliness, if not cheapness, by wearing pants. Likewise, pants rarely do anything but exaggerate extra volume on our figures.

Or more briefly: Ladies, you'll be much more pure and beautiful if you wear skirts (which holy men like yours truly will en-joy) whereas if you wear pants men will lust after you, because they'll make you look bulgy, you fat cow.

You know, I have to break it to you, but this whole question of whether skirts or pants is inherently more pure is just silly. Some women are hot, some are less so. Some outfits are hot, some are less so. Some guys are leches, some of us flatter ourselves we can enjoy a nice view pretty disinterestedly, and some are obliv. And all this goes on whether women wear pants or skirts.

Of course, who better to handle these difficult situations than the always-entertaining Simcha, who for those wanna-be patriarchs out there who are worried some lady they see on the street may be out in pants against her husband's wishes (because, you know, that would be terrible) has developed the pants pass.

Does it get better? I think not.

I am hereby issuing MrsDarwin (and, what the heck, all women -- What, that's bigamy? It's big of them too. Let's be big for a change!) a pants pass, a dress pass, a skirt pass, a high priority mini-skirts pass, and for use within the domicile, a lingerie pass. However, I'm taking her capris pass and putting it through the shredder. A man has to put limits somewhere, and by the power invested in me by my Y chromosome, I declare capris to be an offense against God -- but primarily against man.