Seriously, just go ahead, find yourself a nice meaty chunk and have at it because I am just about tired of you and I am thisclose to pulling hair.
First of all, the idea of $200 denim makes my slapping hand itch just on principle. Any pair of jeans with that sort of price tag had better be made out of the swaddling clothes of baby angels and come with a small but powerful electronic device, and y’all know I don’t mean an iPod.
Secondly, I don’t mind that you exist but your name is “Seven For All Mankind.”
Really? ALL mankind? Or do you mean “All Mankind As Long As Your Waist Is No Bigger Than 32 Inches With Legs Like a Pole-Vaulting Giraffe?”
THIRTY TWO INCHES. For a LOW rise. From what I’ve been able to discern that’s a small size 12. The average American woman wears a size 14.
Listen, I’m not a bitter fat chick and as I said I don’t mind that you EXIST. I’m sure you serve a purpose much in the same way that fleas, black velvet paintings of The Last Supper and leopard print stirrup pants do, but this is not Animal Farm and you are NOT the pant of the working-class proletariat so stop pretending you are.
Drop the name or add some sizes. The choice is yours.
Oh, and Moschino Cheap and Chic? Don’t think that your fabulous designs are going to save you from my wrath. I’m coming for you next.