Who wears short shorts? For years and years, not I.
I was not a shorts person. I didn’t like how much skin they showed, I didn’t like how they made me look, I didn’t like the things I thought people (you know, people) would think about me if I wore them, and I especially didn’t like the things that I would think about me if I wore them.
But you know what? It is approximately a zillion degrees out in New York this summer, and nobody cares what anybody else is wearing. Nobody! Like, maybe someone will pass by and think, “Oh, that girl’s wearing shorts,” and then he/she will continue walking and recommence thinking about other things, like how hot it is, or what to eat for lunch, or what was in this morning’s paper, or how hot it is. And maybe I’ll be like, “Oh, yikes, I’m in shorts, what does this say about me and how do I look and yikes again,” and then, I, too, will get over it (“it” being “myself”) and walk somewhere in this stupid pair of shorts and think about, among other things, how hot it is.