It seems to me that men should wear skirts and women wear slacks.
When I enlisted in the Marine Corps, I was thrown boxer shorts at uniform issue. I almost handed them back and asked for briefs. I'd never even held boxers, much less worn them. Boxers made no sense to me. They were too loose, like my overly permissive parents. Where was the support? What was their purpose?
I hated wearing boxer shorts. Briefs keep dangling bits tight and in place. Being yelled at by the Marine issuing them to me had the same effect on my testicles, but my penis was free to swing around in my trousers because of the loose underwear. Ironically, thanks to the free-flowing boxers, the Marine Corps had given my genitals all sorts of freedom. It got better.
I defended my country and now I'm a civilian, free to wear whatever's on sale. A skirt seems a better fit for men. First, most men are grateful to give up their goodies; skirts provide easy access. Women wear their virtue a little closer to the chest, so the confines of slacks support that security.
I have pants with complicated zippers and button flaps. Access resembles the opening sequence of the old television showGet Smart where he has to pass through all those doors. When I need to pee, I need to pee right then. Guys don't even need a bathroom. If we wore skirts, we'd save like two steps. We'd have more time to put the lid back down.
Skirts offer storage space. I don't want to carry a purse, but I'd love to stash stuff under my skirt and pull it out when needed. "Got a match?" I'd simply reach under the loose fabric and in a flash I'd be striking the flint against my boot heel. Chivalry isn't dead, it's just not that easy to access.
Men love to strike bold poses. Pants constrict that. That time Angelina Jolie stuck her leg out of her dress, like a kickstand, I said, "Wow, there's someone in charge." I'd be a more effective leader if I could confidently pop my legs two feet apart to begin a business meeting.
When Sharon Stone crossed and uncrossed her legs, of course she got my attention. I mean she didn't even have to hitch up her khakis. In pants, I'm one squirm away from knee injury.
I need to let Gwyneth Paltrow know that it's men's parts that need a good ironing. Our genitals are super-wrinkly already; pants make it worse. When I get undressed at night, it takes an hour for my skin to unfold. A skirt would never let that happen. And throughout the day, if wind blew my skirt up, I'd be grateful for the refreshment.
When Thoreau wrote, "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams", he was talking to me. And I can walk forth easier in not pants. Perhaps I'll live longer due to the extra cardio. Women live longer than men, this wardrobe switch might even our lifespans out.
I might not have the balls to wear a skirt, but I'm free to think about it.
This is inspired by my completed memoir, The Pink Marine. I'm currently deciding whether to self-publish.