Gaucho Pants

First it was the skinny jeans and now it's gaucho pants. Is the fashion world just trying to make me curl up on the floor and rock back and forth in the fetal position in my boot cut jeans?

The flowy ones are especially loathsome, but these ones from Urban Outfitters (or Urban Outshitters as Aaron likes to call them due to some issues involving back ordered LP frames) are more structured and therefore, somewhat less offensive. But let's call a spade a spade...aren't they really just culottes?

The underlying reason that I have an aversion to gaucho pants is because I keep having flashbacks of this harrowing event... I was at a friend's show a while back at the High Dive and after the bands stopped playing, they switched over to the stereo. Out of nowhere, these two fashionista girls (they must have gotten lost on the way to Belltown) that I had never met before, started dancing. They were both wearing gauchos, pointy-toed pumps and little tops. One of them tried to grab my arm and get me to dance. I tried to pry her off so I could continue enjoying my vodka tonic, but for a spindly girl, she was strong. I resisted, but it was a terrifying experience. So now I associate gaucho pants with her and her claw-like vice grip.