Dear Hot Pants,
I judged you. I admit it. I thought you were slutty. But I’d never say it to your face. I’d just think it behind your back every time I saw you. Maybe we were frenemies. You were always nice to me so probably you thought we were actual friends. Sorry about that.
Anyway, I just want you to know how wrong I was. Totally wrong. And I admit it freely. Maybe you are a little slutty (you do leave so little to the imagination), but you’re also remarkably practical. If it’s sweltering out, I can always count on you to keep me cool. And you’re truly the best wing woman ever. I feel like I understand you better now than I ever thought I would. I want you in my wheel house, Hot Pants. I want you in my wheel house because you’re literally the only thing I want to wear right now.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw you in Taxi Driver. I remember thinking how fabulous Jodie Foster’s outfit was and how desperately I wanted to wear something like that. Then I was creeped out because it seemed inappropriate for a child prostitute to be so chic, but it was the seventies and you know better than anyone how that was.
I think it’s safe to say you demand a lot from a friendship and you can be pretty superficial (I mean hello, you make Helmut Newton’s leg fetish look tame by comparison). But you know what you like and what you need and you aren’t afraid to go after it. You’re confident. And frankly, what girl doesn’t want to be? Paired with my way-too-tall Miu Miu clogs, I feel like a towering disco inferno of Me Decade goddess-ness.
So I guess what I’m asking is: do you like wanna hang out sometime? I think I might be cool enough to hang with you now.
Film and Television
Taxi Driver. I don’t know that there’s ever been a better hot pants outfit ever. Especially with those too tall shoes. That seems to be key for you, Hot Pants, you like those big girl shoes.
Sex and the City. Mostly Carrie seemed to favor hot pants, but really, I feel like all the ladies sported them at some point. Except maybe Miranda. She’s above you, Hot Pants, and your obvious ways. No one ever said you were intellectual.
Helmut Newton. I think there are really only a few hot pants in his oeuvre, but he loved a good pair of legs. So do you, Hot Pants.