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A prayer for the passing of Capri pants2004.11.27 Culture | Fashion | Satire | by BB Rodriguez
I don't know what defines Capri pants, but I know them when I see them. Have you noticed the creeping menace of Capri pants and related pant apparel lately? Its strange and frightening. Before you think I'm crazy, it turns out that I'm not to first to notice. First of all, there seems to be an infinite range of pant lengths from full length slacks all the way up to nothing. Defining these styles isn't easy—Laura Petri's capri pants were ankle-length—but I think I have it narrowed down to eight different types. When they touch your instep, you're wearing slacks. When you're wearing them just below the knee, those are clamdiggers (or perhaps pedal pushers; the difference is arcane). Anything in between seems to be "Capri pants."
Here is how I see the progression:
This seems to follow something like a bell curve. Rarely do you see a gal sashaying down Broad Street in a bikini bottom, but neither do you see real full-length slacks very often in good weather. The fashion seems to gather around shorts and Capri pants. Perhaps the luxury of Capri pants is that a woman doesn't have to have an exact fit. If they're a bit high or a bit low, no one is going to care. Well I care. I'm tired of Capri pants and the whole beach-strolling, douche-selling attitude. Bring back the skirts, ladies.
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