Jun 12, 2017 4 min read

I’ve been mostly in bed with back problems for the past three weeks. I have no TV in the bedroom, so I keep up with the events of the outside world mainly via radio (aka, pictureless TV) and my smartphone. Viewing the world on a 4-inch screen works wonders for your perspective. No politician looks important or intimidating at a height of 2.5 inches. And it has been somewhat comforting to see that while I recline, our standard of living continues to decline.

I do, however, have one key question: When did President Trump sign an executive order withdrawing adult men from the agreement to reduce fashion pollution?

I ask because two disturbing male fashion trends popped up at just about the same time my back popped out:

1) The “male romper”

2) “Mantyhose”

Of the two, the male romper is by far the most troubling. Had fired FBI head James Comey seen these, I have no doubt that he would have been not “mildly queasy,” but “violently, gut-wrenchingly, projectile-vomitly” ill.

Women have been wearing rompers for decades. The earliest appearance that I can recall of a man wearing one was in the movie “Goldfinger,” when Sean Connery, as James Bond, appeared poolside wearing a one-piece blue terrycloth outfit over his swimming trunks. Short-sleeved and short-legged, it zipped or buttoned from neck to crotch, broken at the waist with an adorable belt. As the outfit to wear if you hoped to be hired for a guest shot as Farrah Fawcett’s twin brother in “Charlie’s Angels,” it was perfect. As everyday streetwear for a man, though, it was – and still is – wrong. Even on a stud muffin like Bond.

Just. Plain. Wrong.

But this hasn’t stopped a group of entrepreneurs from launching a Kickstarter campaign for a modern version of the romper that they call the RompHim. The campaign page says it is suited for “concerts, beach days, rooftops, pool parties, leisurely strolls or bar patios.” The page doesn’t say so, but I suspect that the Fourth of July-themed, stars-and-stripes RompHim pictured there would be just the thing to wear while being chased from an Independence Day parade by World War II veterans – who can be surprisingly spry when properly motivated.

Sadly, as these “Twin Peaks”-revival times seem to dictate, some 3,000 donors have contributed more than $300,000 toward the project. I would gladly have paid twice that to stop it.

I equate the RompHim to clamdiggers, a late-1950s three-quarter-length trouser aberration (think pedal pushers) that Sears Roebuck attempted to foist off on parents as the latest groovy fashion trend for boys. Guess whose mother bought a pair for him? Guess who “accidentally” dropped them into the Sears Best woodchipper that arrived in the same order?

I can’t for the life of me think why any male other than a recent preschool graduate would be caught dead in a RompHim. Then again, a friend tells me that while at Walmart one afternoon, she spied a guy in the checkout line who was wearing a Snuggie. That’s right – basically a blanket with sleeves.

Somewhat less troubling are Mantyhose, which the manufacturer unapologetically describes as “pantyhose for men.” Yet, they bother me. OK, I know that men have been wearing tights since Robin Hood and his Merry Men hung out in Swinging Sherwood. But, c’mon, people. Do we really need Mantyhose with patterns, especially ones that make your legs appear to be tattooed?

Who, I have to ask, is the target audience? Avocational pirates? Used to be you had to board at least one Spanish galleon or pillage a village to earn your tats. Wannabe Hell’s Angels who love watching “Ink Master” on Spike but faint while giving blood and ride a Honda 50? No, thanks.

If I want temporary tattoos, I’ll use those that come with bubble gum.

At least then I can spit something out when a guy walks by wearing a RompHim and Mantyhose.