Post III and final in the Cheeze Series
As I walked to the Metro one day this week, I realized why I like short pants. In a past life, I was a nineteenth-century boy who wore breeches. Capris, cropped pants, pedal-pushers, Bermuda shorts, whatever you want to call them, I wear those and long socks. Yep, though I haven’t yet undergone a past-life regression, I’m fairly certain I must’ve been a breeches-wearing boy in another lifetime; how else can I explain this affinity for capris?