You have probably seen him walking around Georgetown. He is the opposite of rugged. He is the man who owns a collection of navy blue brass button blazers. He is the male version of Blair Waldorf. He wears...pastel.
If a guy wants to look like a marshmallow Peep, hey, that's his prerogative. But when that guy tries to be smooth and attempts to pick up a girl, he should expect a laugh. I'm not saying that they're aren't girls wearing Lily Pulitzer that totally dig dudes in croakies, comb-overs, and baby blue pants with lobsters embroidered all over them. I'm just saying that I don't understand it. I like pink shirts on guys sometimes...I think I have even bought a pink tie for an ex boyfriend once...but D.C. has been overrun by WASPs and I'd like to have someone explain it to me before I confront someone in madras shorts at Gold Cup.
Now, I didn't realize this, but as I was scouring the Internet for pictures that capture the essence of my pet peeve, I learned that there is a name for these outrageous printed pants. They are actually called "Go-to-Hell" pants...that explains everything.
Go-to-Hells by Flusser. I don't recommend wearing this boxers-as-pants look, fellahs.
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