When Kendall Jenner stepped out in New York last week wearing a long button-up shirt and seemingly no pants, my first thought wasn’t exactly “I need to wear that immediately.” Don’t get me wrong, she looked amazing—as models tend to do in clothing—and I’m a fan of the trend, but it just isn’t a look I’d pull out of my own closet.
I’ve never been afraid of a short hemline (see: all the dress code violations I racked up in high school), but I’ve never exactly been one to enter into flasher territory. But when the idea to try out the trend IRL came up in a pitch meeting, I obliged. Anything in the name of capital-J Journalism.
But shortly into my experiment, I was confronted with the reality that I am not Kendall Jenner (devastating). As soon as I slipped my white poplin boxers on underneath my oversized button-up in the Condé Nast bathroom stall, I immediately felt uncomfortable. Perhaps that should ve been obvious to me, given that I refused to wear the look on the subway. (I was not about to touch those seats in such a short hemline!)
Maybe it was the air hitting my bare upper thighs or the fact that the look decidedly did not feel work appropriate, but I tried to shuffle back to my desk unnoticed, which is a tall order when your shoes click-clack with every step. With my black knee-high boots and my oversized white button-up, I felt like a cross between Patrick Star in his boots in The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie and Tom Cruise in Risky Business in a way that I did not appreciate.
Mid-day, I sent a photo of my outfit to my friend Emma, who wrote back, “Logistical questions: spandex underneath? Ass sweat?” For the latter, thankfully not! Sitting down at my desk for most of the day yielded no problems, save for my shorts riding up, but I felt painfully self-aware of my pantlessness come lunchtime. Lunch tends to be a social event, but today I braved the Condé Nast cafeteria alone to scarf down some food before a call. I found myself in a sea of men in business attire, nary a fellow writer or fashion editor in sight. While (almost) anything goes on the editorial floor, I couldn’t help but notice the eyes of these confused suits linger on me as I strolled by, presumably wondering where the hell my pants went.
I did feel slightly frustrated looking at the photos of my outfit, wondering why I didn’t have the effortlessness of Kendall Jenner’s look. It reminded me of that meme, “what you ordered versus what you got.” (Once again, I was cruelly reminded that I am not one of my generation’s highest-paid models.)
If I were to try this look again, or if I could pass on any advice to the pantless-curious, I would first and foremost aim to avoid the ’80s movie cosplay. To do this, I would definitely opt for a bigger, longer shirt that was not white, and I’d also aim to wear bottoms with some more coverage. I still do find it quite cute, and I salute anyone who wants to go for it. It’s just not for me.
