![This is the least confident defense of the short short I’ve ever read, and it leaves me deeply disappointed with the NYT and my beloved T magazine. Mr. Stoddard begins this article with a positive outlook on shorts, one, I’d say, that willingly defies social conceits:
“[M]en’s shorts have been inching away from their own breviloquent description. My call for a return to a common-sense inseam has been met over time with complacency, staunch resistance and — on the occasions I’ve dared to lead by example — merciless ribbing. Just as I was beginning to lose heart, it was revealed that several designers are featuring shorter men’s shorts for spring.” (“A Leg Man,” Grant Stoddard, 3/10/2011, NYT)
Stoddard is more than willing to strut his stuff in beautifully crafted outfits — assembled of garments and by art directors/stylists at the pinnacle of the short game — in theory, but quickly goes turncoat. It’s hard for me to feel bad for somewhere swathed in Yves Saint Laurent while being trailed by photographers, but I can commiserate with anyone playing the odd man out.
One can feel Stoddard itching to tug at the cuffs of his scantly shorts, well within arms reach, as he makes his way down the Sunset Strip, “a couple of motorists cared enough to slow down and holler, ‘Nice shorts!’ with seeming sincerity, though the guy who yelled ‘Sexy legs!’ didn’t sound all that convincing” (ibid).
The rest of the article continues to chronicle his feelings of peculiarity in his new digs, from tourists snapping photos to people at a farmers’ market [sic] looking on skeptically. Well no shit, people are going to look at you funny when “[t]he length of the blazer obscured the shorts completely from most angles. This meant the looks I drew were due to suspicions that I was completely pantsless” (ibid). This, however, does not mean it’s time to accept defeat and put on a pair of flood pants.
If Stoddard is earnestly calling for shorts to live up to their name, it’s at this moment, when his desire to demure is so palpable, that he must hike those shorts up, put on a pair of sunglasses, and stop giving a fuck. I’d appreciate this article so much more if Stoddard made it sound like he enjoyed himself, rather than concluding fashion designers may affect the lengths of work-a-day shorts coming to a store near you (a stunning insight). Instead, he’s practically made a mockery of those of us who would wear shorts that hit well above the knee; at the very least he calls into question one’s ability to rock some short shorts with confidence. Frankly, this article does little to advocate for shorter shorts, I’d argue it leaves them less accessible and more “high fashion” than if Stoddard had left the subject unearthed. And for that, Mr. Stoddard, I will never forgive you, but I hope you got to keep them YSL joints.
MKS](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lis4mvR2vz1qbtgj4o1_400.jpg)
This is the least confident defense of the short short I’ve ever read, and it leaves me deeply disappointed with the NYT and my beloved T magazine. Mr. Stoddard begins this article with a positive outlook on shorts, one, I’d say, that willingly defies social conceits:
“[M]en’s shorts have been inching away from their own breviloquent description. My call for a return to a common-sense inseam has been met over time with complacency, staunch resistance and — on the occasions I’ve dared to lead by example — merciless ribbing. Just as I was beginning to lose heart, it was revealed that several designers are featuring shorter men’s shorts for spring.” (“A Leg Man,” Grant Stoddard, 3/10/2011, NYT)
Stoddard is more than willing to strut his stuff in beautifully crafted outfits — assembled of garments and by art directors/stylists at the pinnacle of the short game — in theory, but quickly goes turncoat. It’s hard for me to feel bad for somewhere swathed in Yves Saint Laurent while being trailed by photographers, but I can commiserate with anyone playing the odd man out.
One can feel Stoddard itching to tug at the cuffs of his scantly shorts, well within arms reach, as he makes his way down the Sunset Strip, “a couple of motorists cared enough to slow down and holler, ‘Nice shorts!’ with seeming sincerity, though the guy who yelled ‘Sexy legs!’ didn’t sound all that convincing” (ibid).
The rest of the article continues to chronicle his feelings of peculiarity in his new digs, from tourists snapping photos to people at a farmers’ market [sic] looking on skeptically. Well no shit, people are going to look at you funny when “[t]he length of the blazer obscured the shorts completely from most angles. This meant the looks I drew were due to suspicions that I was completely pantsless” (ibid). This, however, does not mean it’s time to accept defeat and put on a pair of flood pants.
If Stoddard is earnestly calling for shorts to live up to their name, it’s at this moment, when his desire to demure is so palpable, that he must hike those shorts up, put on a pair of sunglasses, and stop giving a fuck. I’d appreciate this article so much more if Stoddard made it sound like he enjoyed himself, rather than concluding fashion designers may affect the lengths of work-a-day shorts coming to a store near you (a stunning insight). Instead, he’s practically made a mockery of those of us who would wear shorts that hit well above the knee; at the very least he calls into question one’s ability to rock some short shorts with confidence. Frankly, this article does little to advocate for shorter shorts, I’d argue it leaves them less accessible and more “high fashion” than if Stoddard had left the subject unearthed. And for that, Mr. Stoddard, I will never forgive you, but I hope you got to keep them YSL joints.
MKS
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