Rompers: I like them. So what?

Romper
noun /ˈrämpər/  /ˈrôm-/ 
1. A young child's one-piece outer garment
2. A similar item of clothing for adults, typically worn as overalls or as sports clothing
3. A person who romps

I really wish adult rompers had never been invented, and it's not because 99% of them are hideous and make me wish that terry cloth was as flammable as Aunt Edna's famous gasoline couch. No, it's because I want one, I want one soooo bad, so I can frolic and lounge in the sun just like I used to when I was five and rompers were relevant.


They're comfy, they're one-piece, and they're made of material that is also extremely absorbent. What's not to love? Well, to start with, the measurements. Romper designers decided to throw out all measurements that would account for such things as boobs, women's hips, or ALL THAT EXTRA LABIA. If I ever wanted to start a labia farm, I'd buy all the models from Target because they obviously could produce a rich harvest. Ahhh a fine harvest this year! Global Warming is obviously paying off for us jungle labia farmers!


What's worse is celebrities that try to make rompers glamorous. Just like short shorts and jeggings, rompers have never and will never make an onlooker think, "Ooo look at her! I bet she's rich and famous and successful!" There is nothing grown up about an article of clothing that must be completely removed- top and bottom- when it's potty time. You can add as much gold, diamonds, and leather accessories as you want but you'll always end up looking like what you are- a woman who thinks toddler wear is sexy.

This outfit by one of the Kardashians very clearly states: I like to wear diapers and romp!

The problem with rompers is that no matter how many times I look at one and tell myself "NO!", I can't make myself stop going back for more. And the media only feeds my addiction. It's like that one-piece Avengere-sque suit that keeps taunting you to try it on every time you walk by it in the mall. No matter how many donuts you can squeeze out of your thighs, you still look at it and think "I might look hot in that." The rational part of your brain tells you that acid-wash catsuits were only meant to be worn on stage in Louisiana, but that doesn't stop you from grabbing it and slinking off to a dressing room only to be disappointed again. Yes, you do look like a pro, and not a hot one either. You look like one of the methy hookers that hangs out in bus stops, twitching and waving at cars. Now is the time for you to decide, which is more important- fashion or self-respect? Sadly, we both know the answer is FASHION.