Alright. Another ‘will not miss once I leave NYC’ coming up here.

My office is one block from FIT (the Fashion Institute of Technology), so I walk through their ‘campus’ (it’s just this one block) from the train to my building. And, well, I’m afraid. You guys know I have this whole ‘getting older’ issue. I am simply leaving behind my young ways (for example, I only go out and get ragingly schonkered on average of once a month these days. I know. Dragging these old bones home at 6am requires a whole hell of a lot more recovery time than it used to, so I’ve had to tame things up a bit. All the other times I just get mildly schnockered, leave the raging at home for another day) and part of that has to do with fashion. Slave to the trends no more!!! I have now fully embraced ‘classic’ which more accurately translates to ‘purchasing basic items that last longer than one season and with a longer shelf life than a Forever21 outfit can offer, ie: can handle being washed more than once.’

But for that one block through the FIT campus, I relive my youth (missing are the Banarama cassettes and Bon Jovi jean jackets, but it’s close). That simple walk makes me a little afraid and shaky inside (NO, I am not hungover. Not this time anyway. I used up my one wild party evening earlier this month. still recovering from that one) when I see sweater dresses (ladies, they’re only flattering on one type of figure. the no figure: no hips, no chest, no ass. You cannot have any sort of shape and get away with this tube o’ fabric), a t-shirt and leggings that are being passed off as AN ENTIRE OUTFIT, and UGGS. ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THE UGGS?

Ok. Fine. They exist and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about that now. But I hate them. They seem to have gone from ‘uber trendy celebrity gear’ to ‘just slap these things on in any given situation, weather type, and age group, and they’re great for moms, too.’ Haven’t you seen the mom’s at the airport? All dolled up in their sweatsuit, pant legs tucked in, proudly displaying the back tag that alerts us all to the hip, trendiness of said mom? But, I digress…

We can forgive the moms for their transgressions, they’re moms. It’s what they do. If it comes down to Uggs or a fanny pack, I’ll help my mom tuck her sweats into the poofy, rounded toe glory that is an Ugg. But the tragically young, hip and trendy? The fashion students for crying out loud? They wear them with dresses, jeans, shorts, in rain, and 84˚weather (last week). Even in 77˚ weather, as it is here today. All I can think when I see this is the level of swamp foot that has to be pooling up in the bottom of that space boot. And these are the ones who will be setting the trends, designing the runways, dressing Vogue. *le sigh*

As I troll through, I always try to seek out the one that might dress for me. I long to find a girl whose handbag isn’t bedazzled and the size of a German Shephard and who doesn’t think that 60 denier tights are the same things as pants, but alas, I don’t think she is to be found here.

Maybe J. Crew and Banana have their training facilities elsewhere? Somewhere on a farm in Connecticut or Maine? Free from the influence of the Ugg? I can only hope.